Author Richard Cahill's Website--Living By Our Motto:"There Are No Stupid Questions, Just Stupid People Asking Questions Everybody else already knows the answer to."

Donald “He Loves My Ass” Trump got his hand caught in the cookie jar this week, and it was a steel-plated cookie jar with a heavy lid that got slammed repeatedly on his puny fingers as he tried to extract it.
 
White House spinmistress Stephanie Grisham had a rationalization ready immediately. “Even though we held up 400 million bucks until the Ukrainians started telling the lies we wanted them too, it certainly could not be called bribery like Deep State sweet pea Pelosi wants to. Everybody knows you use your own money if you want to bribe someone.
 
“Ask Stormy Daniels if you don’t believe me. When you bribe someone, you borrow money from your lawyer to hide your tracks, pay him back in dribs and drabs, and then piss on him as they haul him off to jail. That’s bribery by a bribery god, and that’s the way President Trump does bribery. I’ll go you one even better. That playmate that was threatening to shoot off her mouth about having an affair with the boss—he got Dave Pecker to pay her off and kill the story. That’s not a quid pro quo, by the way—that’s a quid pro bro.
 
“But remember, in the Ukraine, only taxpayer money was involved. Every single American taxpayer contributed to the Trump re-election campaign plan to smear Biden, or would have, if it wasn’t for that damn whistleblower. Sure, we know who he is, and we’re waterboarding his Pomeranian as we speak. But that’s water over the dam, or the doggie, as it were.
 
“Right now, the important thing for the American people who believe that Donald Trump is the most fantastic President ever is to be proud of themselves for helping the President get a leg up for re-election. You know that little box on your tax return that you can check to give a buck to support the Presidential election fund? Basically, we checked it for all of you! And then we held on to the cash until the Ukies were willing to crap on the Bidens.
 
“Calling that a bribe only makes sense if you’re Schiff, or some leakin’ Lieutenant Colonel, or a warbling Ambassador or two. The American people see right through this impeachment hoax, because they are always eager to ignore incontrovertible facts in favor of bizarre conspiracy theories.
 
“Just like their President.” 

This was the Salmon Shitbird’s reaction to the conviction of his pal Roger Stone on seven counts of perjury and witness intimidation last week, which Trump attributed to a ‘double standard.’ White House Counselor Kellyanne Conway, whose reputation for exuding truthiness is only second to the President’s, was quick to defend her boss:
 
“Lying is only language the President is fluent in, for one thing. He is outraged that there are penalties for lying to Democrats. The fact that almost all of the people he mentions in that brilliant Tweet have been examined thoroughly by the proctologist’s finger of justice and not convicted of anything is what outrages him, whereas a fine citizen like Roger Stone tells a couple of harmless fibs to Congress and threatens to kill just one, and only one, small dog and ends up looking at hard time. That just disgusts the President.
 
“Hillary is the prime example. She has been tried and convicted by Hannity, Limbaugh and Breitbart. Why is she still walking around free to run pedophile rings out of pizza parlors and kill Epstein? Schiff—elected to Congress as a Democrat. Why is that not a crime by itself? Mueller—nobody has ever accused him of lying about anything until the boss just did, which is deeply suspicious on the face of it.
 
“What needs to be done to fix this double standard? We need to fire all these Deep State FBI agents and prosecutors and set a simple, clean standard for American justice. Once you have been criticized by Fox and Friends twelve times, you ought to be considered convicted, and sentenced to prison for the same number of years as Bill Barr has had ice cream snacks that week.
 
“And don’t tell me that particular criminal justice reform would only affect Democrats. I hear Mitt Romney’s been channeling John McCain, going around the Senate muttering, “I like Presidents who haven’t been impeached.”
 
“Lock him up!”

​While babbling at a meeting of the Economic Club of New York this week, Trump improbably claimed his daughter Ivanka had created 14 million jobs.
 
“Wow, how many times can a girl get her nails done?” said some skeptics, while others pointed out that unlikely number had just randomly bubbled up to the surface of the jambalaya that is what’s left of the President’s aging brain.
 
White House press secretary Stephanie “You Can’t Make Me Talk” Grisham rose to Ivanka’s defense. “President Trump does not make mistakes. The 14 million number is accurate. The trouble is, because of the Deep State, CNN and Adam Schiff, all those jobs were unfortunately created in China.
 
“Far left radical Democrats keep Americans from benefiting from Ivanka’s robust job creation policy. Their socialist policies prevent the President’s daughter from making purses, gloves and accessories in our country. Democrats, particularly all of the ones running for President and that Alexandria Occasionally-Cortez person, are the people that don’t let 14-year-old girls be chained to workbenches while stitching pocketbooks together for six bucks a day, seven days a week, while ignoring their troubling cries of “Please, please let me go so I can become a sex worker.”
 
“China does not mind letting Ivanka contract out her work to Uighur slave camps, since gluing boots together keeps their minds off wanting their own country. When we MAGA again in 2020, maybe we can get those caged kids to do something as useful, instead of just sitting there unwashed and giving each other respiratory infections. Until then, though, Ivanka is forced to use her miraculous job-creating powers elsewhere.
 
“Think about that before you get all impeachy on her dad.”

​Donald Trump, Jr., who has often been overheard muttering to himself, “I wish I could come across as venal and self-serving as my father,” took a giant step in that direction with the publication of a book someone else wrote for him called “Triggered—More Bullshit that My Father Will Tweet About.”
 
Or something like that. The book had actually been out for over a week before somebody bothered to read it—most copies were purchased by people to impress visitors to their meth labs. When somebody finally did, they noted that Trump the Lesser had devoted a passage to his family’s visit to Arlington National Cemetery, which made the younger Trump compare the sacrifices of the war dead buried there to his family’s supposed business losses incurred as a result of Russia promoting his dad for the Presidency in 2016.
 
 “In that moment, I also thought of all the attacks we’d already suffered as a family, and about all the sacrifices we’d have to make to help my father succeed — voluntarily giving up a huge chunk of our business and all international deals to avoid the appearance that we were ‘profiting off the office,’” Trump Jr. wrote. Even though it was “a sacrifice we were more than happy and willing to make,” Trump Jr. lamented that “we didn’t get any credit whatsoever from the mainstream media, which now does not surprise me at all.”
 
This column always goes right to the source, so we grabbed a flight to Dulles with a Ouija board packed in our carry-on, went out to the cemetery on the night of the full moon, and started interviewing some of the souls there. Here are their thoughts:
 
“Sure, I was pierced by about a hundred metal fragments when I threw myself on a grenade to save the rest of my company, and while it didn’t take me long to die, the pain was really intense—it felt like I was covered in bone spurs. But I can’t imagine the agony of being unable to build Trump Towers Taipei because my sister already has a pocketbook deal with mainland China. God, that must hurt.”
 
“I was riddled with bullets when my unit attempted to assault a machine gun nest. The rest of the men were driven away, so it took me hours to die alone on the battlefield. My suffering was so intense that an enemy soldier walked up to put an end to my misery, but his commander stopped him from taking the mercy shot—he said to save the ammunition for other Americans. But I’d rather endure that all over again than not be able to build another golf course in Portugal.”
 
“Who the fuck was this twerp’s editor? Who listened to this spoiled little pissant ramble on about sacrifice when he was standing over the graves of American heroes and thought, “My God, that needs to go in his book? Get me his ghostwriter on the phone!” That guy needs to get a job he can handle, like licking the oil out of Trump’s tanning bed when he’s done baking in it.”
 
The rest of the cemetery’s inhabitants were too busy turning over in their graves to comment.

In news from the religious fringe this week, noted charismatic Jennifer LeClair predicted that the Prince of Darkness had it in for recently Christianized pop singer Kanye West, while Paula White, newly hired advisor to the White House, prayed aloud that Trump would be kept safe from demons although she did imply that most of those demons were on the House Intelligence Committee.
 
Paula preaches the Prosperity Gospel, which holds that you will get rich if you send her all your money, thus surpassing the original Christian concept that strained credibility the most, the Virgin Birth. Kudos to Paula for that, and congratulations on getting the White House job.
 
Jennifer, who still works in the private sector, and has previously held forth on the Seven Signs Witches Are Attacking You (they include excessive dandruff and tinnitus) fears that Satan will murder Kanye West, despite the Evil One’s reputation for not doing humankind any favors.
 
Not willing to get my news secondhand, I drew a pentangle on the floor of the garage and placed a candle at each point. I didn’t have any blood of an unbaptized male child handy—the girl threw it out, thinking it was a bottle of spoiled ketchup—so I put a box of Cheez-its at the center of the pentangle, knowing that Satan loves Cheez-its.
 
He immediately appeared in a cloud of ash, which coated the garage thoroughly. Next time Skype, I thought to myself.
 
“Hell, no,” he said sincerely, in between mouthfuls of snack food. “Got a glass of ice water? Just leave the pitcher by me. I don’t want to kill anybody. Killing people was His idea in the first place, remember? The whole everybody’s-got-to-buy-the-farm concept was alright at first—there weren’t that many people and slashing at their departed souls with pitchforks gave my imps work.
 
“Then came the USA, God’s favorite nation. You know why that is? Because almost no Americans go to Heaven. He’s got to let Jimmy Carter in, but anyone can see He’s even putting that off. The rest of you are addicted to either Internet porn or opioids, or both. Every time one of you people dies, you add to the line to get into the Pits of Perdition. It’s starting to be the DMV of all eternity. Inside, it’s just too crowded. We’ve had to buy space heaters for some of the far corners just to keep them respectably warm.
 
“Of course, Trump and Kanye are going to Hell—why should they be any different? But I’m putting it off for as long as possible. I do send demons after Trump, but that’s only so they can insert Satan’s Stents into his arteries while he sleeps off his latest cheeseburger binge. Otherwise his heart would have stopped in Stormy Daniel’s arms. And now that Kanye’s formed an attachment to Jesus, I want him to live as long as possible. Christ just texted me the other day about it--Dear Me, he is just so icky. I’d rather be hugged by a fetus—which amuses me to no end. So, I don’t want to see Kanye here anytime soon. And neither does Biggie or Tupac.
 
“What Hell’s scientists are really working on is the live-forever pill. Yeah, I put them in the lowest circle after they invented the boner pill—didn’t that backfire spectacularly? I promised each one of them an afternoon at a Tastee-Freeze, though, if they can come up with a live-forever treatment.
 
“That would solve all my problems.”

While the Cantaloupe Caligula is busy insisting that the phone call during which he was overheard extorting Ukraine’s leader was “perfect,” his inner circle has been busy exploring alternate defenses for his behavior, as the Senate plans to acquit him no matter how glaring the evidence of casual criminal conduct by our Prez becomes, and is willing to accept the feeblest of defenses.
 
Rising to the challenge, Kellyanne Conway, the Queen of Alternative Everything, from facts to universes, is prepared to spin this tale:
 
“The President was in fact, overheard demanding Ukraine hastily make up some sludge and spread it on the Bidens like cheap margarine on burnt toast, but he did not mean to threaten to withhold military aid until Ukraine coughed up the goods. That would have been bad for our national security. What the President meant to do was to threaten to take away Donald Trump Jr.’s allowance, unless Ukraine played along. It just came out ‘you’re not getting any night goggles or more Javelin missiles until you start a fake, incomprehensibly foreign investigation of Hunter Biden that lasts at least until November, 2020.’
 
“What he meant to say was ‘If you don't spout a mist of scum all over the Bidens, Junior’s going to have to get a job.’ The mistake is easy to understand—DTJ’s allowance is 400 million—the same amount as the Ukrainian military aid package. The President just got them confused. He thought the Ukrainians wouldn’t want Junior’s allowance taken away, because they, like everybody else, know that Donald Jr. is virtually unemployable, since his only skills are being able to do his own hair and compose Tweets as thoughtless, stupid and self-owning as tossing rocks off an overpass onto oncoming cars.
 
“There’s nothing illegal about that. I mean blackmailing foreigners, not throwing rocks off bridges. That is illegal, although Donald Trump could do it and not lose a single vote. There were no actual taxpayer funds involved in the Ukraine deal, even though it sure sounded like there were. Case closed, not guilty, nothing to see here, good night, MAGA.”
 
Ms. Conway then rose into the air on a broom and shot down the hall, then sped away into the open air cackling, “Suck my chemtrail, witch hunters!”

​Former VP Joe Biden was refused Communion at a Catholic church in South Carolina last weekend, as the local priest got holy on him for not being against abortion enough, or at all. This is consistent with the position of most religious South Carolinians, whether they are Catholics, standard Protestants or evangelicals belonging to the Church of the Nine Hundred Foot Jesus Weeping by the River--the candidate who won't let the government in your uterus is shunned in favor of Trump, the candidate who's paid for more abortions than you've had used cars. 
 
Whether that ruined Biden's chance at eternal glory (or the Democratic nomination) or not is not for this column to determine. Joe’s stance on abortion is the typical Dem position on it—he’s personally opposed to it, but doesn’t think it’s right to force his beliefs on America’s non-Catholics, which include Jews, Muslims, Presbyterians and various twisted Satanists, witches and atheists, who are cool with women making their own minds up about it.

The Church, which makes its living forcing its beliefs on people who have not yet been disgusted by its harboring a coven of child molesters since along about the Middle Ages, doesn’t always deny Joe the Body of Christ—his hometown priest is cool with him—that guy just says “Whatever” about the whole third trimester deal and slips him the wafer. Which is good for Joe, I guess, although, as an ex-member of the One True Church, I gave up the whole Communion thing as soon as I was old enough to drive myself to Dunkin’ Donuts instead of church, which is where my Catholic mother thought I was taking the car. Crullers taste way better than Communion wafers.
 
Joe needs a gimmick, because he is getting all knotted up in the polls. Liz Warren has one. I am constantly being urged to “Have a Beer with Liz,” by my Facebook feed. Which would be fine by me. In fact, I would be happy to have six or eight of them with her, until we were both buzzed enough to show each other our tattoos and make up crude Amy Klobuchar jokes. Not to be outdone, Pete Buttigieg also tries to lure me on FB to “Have Pizza with Pete.” Choice of beverage is optional, I guess, but beer would be good. Count on me showing up.
 
No invite from Joe, yet, although “Have Communion with Joe,” would leave me cold. “Get Shot Down for Communion with Joe” is more my style, and I can show him how do it with flair—when the priest refuses to pass over the sacred saltine, just say, “Aw, your fingers reek of altar boy ass, anyway,” and attempt to high-five everybody on the way out.
 
With pizza and beer both taken, the best I can come up with for the former VP is “Do a Line with Biden.”
 
But if you win, don’t be surprised if Hunter shows up instead.

Trump has long railed that the Democrats impeaching him would be unconstitutional, and Kellyanne Conway, in the absence of Rudy “I Wish We Had All Made That Flight to Vienna,” Giuliani, was happy to reveal the legal reasoning behind the President’s defense.
 
“Second Amendment, baby,” she chortled. “The Constitution says President Trump can have as many guns as he wants, smoking or not. Everything from a derringer to a howitzer is covered by executive privilege.”
 
Um, Kellyanne, now, you know ‘smoking gun’ is a metaphor for unassailable evidence of a crime.
 
“I know that’s what the Deep State wants us to think. This administration, thanks to the special genius of Donald Trump, has moved far beyond metaphor. We have a literalist interpretation of the Constitution and you know as well as I that means guns. Loads of them, rocked and loaded. If some of them are found smoking once in a while, that’s inevitable. But hardly impeachable."
 
Career diplomats have testified that Trump appears to have offered a quid pro quo to Ukraine in order to get them to investigate Joe Biden for some nonexistent crime, like having better hair than him.
 
“Nonsense! First off, nobody has better hair than Donald J Trump. His hair costs are at this point in excess of $5,000 per follicle. What’s Biden do for his hair? A tablespoon full of hair gel every morning that costs maybe a nickel a squeeze? Secondly, we do not use the words quid pro quo around here. We only use American words. Quid pro quo is a Ukrainian word. The President, despite his genius, does not speak Ukrainian. It's the real reason he fired Ms. Ambassador Bitch. The woman was constantly babbling in Ukrainian. You can't make a quid pro quo if you don't understand what one is.”
 
How about ‘one hand washes the other?’ Do you understand that, Kellyanne?
 
“I understand that’s how every single person with both hands washes their hands. The President is prepared to write off the votes of one-handed people if they can’t sympathize with his plight of being a billionaire, President of the US and still having two conveniently small hands. If they persist in coming to his rallies and waving their defective limbs at him, he’s liable to give them a cruel nickname, like “Stumpies” or “Fistless Scum.”
 
We’re getting pretty far off the track here, Kellyanne.
 
“Off the tracks, through the woods and down the rabbit hole. It’s where I always go.
 
So, you do understand metaphors, Kellyanne?
 
“Yes, but don’t tell Trump that. It’s why Giuliani’s in hiding. When John Bolton said Giuliani was cooking up a ‘drug deal,’ Trump got wind of it and thought it was an actual drug deal.”
 
And he didn’t want anybody moving drugs through the White House?
 
“No, he wanted his cut.”

My personal Christian icon came alive with a revelation over the weekend. This was a first—Dollar Store Camouflage Jesus generally sits quietly on His allotted place on the library shelf, never weeping or bleeding or having other bodily functions that make other statues of Him, His Mother or other sundry saints and martyrs famous.
 
This time, though, He raised his tiny right hand and said, distinctly, “I need you to do Me a solid and tell Mike Pompeo to get off My ass.”
 
My first thought, as anybody’s would be, was, Shit, have I been doing drugs again? But that was unlikely, since it was first thing in the morning. I was drinking my coffee, and unless somebody had laced my Splenda with ayahuasca, I was as sober as I was going to get all day.
 
“Mike Pompeo, the Secretary of State, oh Lord?” I asked.
 
“That’s the one,” DSCJ said grimly, and for the first time, I wondered if the little AK-47 by his side was loaded. “That fat bastard’s been stalking me, and I want to be left alone. It’s Dear Lord this and Holy Me that all day and night long. From the early AM, when he’s praying he doesn’t have to kiss Trump’s ass before breakfast, to when he’s getting ready for bed, when he’s beseeching Me that there’s a piece of cake left in the fridge, I’m getting smothered with Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, every day.”
 
“But isn’t he and everyone else entitled to believe in You, oh Lord? Didn’t you say, “Believe in Me, and you’ll go to Heaven?”
 
“I may have said something like that once or twice, but, come on! Don’t you people have sarcasm anymore? And when they translated my holy wisecracks, they left a couple of asterisks out. One of the footnotes on that one was Except if you’re a self-important, bloated bag of pie and burgers, then it’s a hard swipe left. Yuck! I’d rather get hugged by a fetus, and believe you me, that’s creepy as fuck.”
 
“Is this all about Pompeo putting that video about being a Christian leader on the State Department web site?”

“Damn straight it is. I mean, it would be okay if Pompeo kept his crush on Me on the down low. Let’s put it in terms you can understand. I mean, it’s one thing when a woman who’s a tad overweight and not exactly a beauty queen lusts after you, but she keeps it between the two of you. It’s even a little flattering, right? But when you and her have about fourteen White Claws between you and start making out on the deck, and your wingman snaps a pick and posts it on Insta, it’s a whole 'nother story.”
 
“You’re embarrassed, oh my Savior?”
 
“The Holy Ghost has been roasting my ass ever since it went up. Every time the Trinity comes together, He rubs my nose in it, cackling with holy glee. He’s the same bitter, merciless mofo He’s been for all eternity. Mike Pompeo wants to know how to be a Christian leader? He can follow my example, and get himself crucified, as far as I’m concerned.”
 
“He works for Trump. That could happen any day.”
 
“Praise friggin’ be, is all I can say.”

Instead of having the next G-7 at his Doral resort, which Trump had to walk back plans for because it made even strong Republican stomachs churn, the White House announced today that it would not participate in Trump’s impeachment trial unless it was held at his resort at Mar al Lago.
 
“Looks like it’s going to happen around January-February, when the weather is shitty in Washington,” said White House Chief of Staff Mick Mulvaney. “Republicans love being in Florida in the winter, away from the cold and minority groups in DC. Couple rounds of complimentary golf, and a few Pina Coladas, and the Senate will be relaxed enough to acquit the President of all the crimes he and I have already admitted to, plus any more they might find out about between now and then. We doubt there’ll be any more, though, after Giuliani tragically and unexpectedly hangs himself next week.
 
“Of course, winter is high season at Mar al Lago, so we’re going to jack up the room rates big time for Democrats and the fake press. If they want to remove the President from office, they can cough up $800 a night to get bitten by the best, most exclusive bedbugs in the land, even though it’s likely they’ll just be left gnashing their teeth in their twenty-eight-dollar shrimp cocktails as the Republicans cheerfully let us off the hook. I mean sure, it’s all about our lies, greed and stupidity, but are they impeachable lies, greed and stupidity? That Boy Scout Romney might think so, but there’s plenty of other Republicans in the Senate pooping in their boxers at the thought of one of the President’s angry, illiterate Tweets being directed at them, and all they’ll be thinking about is a quick “Not Guilty,” and it’s out the door to Bob Kraft’s favorite massage parlor. And the Kurds don’t get to vote.
 
“Who wants to let the President off the hook under some dusty old Rotunda, surrounded by portraits of the nation’s heroes, which none of us definitely want to be, when you can do it while being caressed by the subtropical breezes and sultry waitresses at the nation’s most famous resort? There’s a lot of stress in letting the biggest crook ever to occupy the White House continue to lie, cheat and steal in office, and after the acquittal, Republicans are going to need to peace out in the sun, at least until November 2020 rolls around and we maybe all get slapped in the face with the cold, wet mackerel of fate.
 
“We’ll deal with that when we come to it, but in the meantime, what good is history if you can’t make money off of it?”