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."

The Salmon Shitbird, at his most recent rally, or as some people call them, “convocation of noisy, obese, white illiterates,” claimed that in addition to the War on Christmas, his opponents plan to change the name of Thanksgiving. As a Christmas warrior, this gave me pause. To what? This most treasured holiday is the lone day of festivity on the American calendar yet to be fully commercialized, despite the best efforts of Macy’s. Thanksgiving, which celebrates the rescue of starving religious zealots by their indigenous American neighbors, whom they later wiped out of existence, seems to deserve its carved-in-stone status, if for nothing other than to start the month-long slog of shitty weather and shittier music that culminates in Christmas.
 
The Son of Shitbird, DT Jr., whose sole purpose in life seems to be making people say to themselves, Jesus, what a hateful little twerp, advocated for more political arguments at Thanksgiving dinner. You know, the kind of Thanksgiving arguments that result in one offended family member storming out, finding a bar that’s open, getting drunk, sliding on an ice patch into a tree and getting seriously hurt and arrested, while all his relatives can think is “Serves that idiot right.”
 
But I accept the challenge. Here are some suggestions:
 
Fuck Prayers and Pilgrims—Let’s Eat:  A celebration for crusty, hungry old atheists. Anybody who produces a paper on which an original, rather lengthy Thanksgiving prayer of gratitude is written has to eat in the yard. As it should be.
 
Taco Thursday, or A Spliff Before Supper: Legal weed makes this version of the holiday possible. Everybody is too baked to bake a turkey, so one designated stoner gets to drive to the nearest Jack-In-The-Box and order takeout tacos, with a minimum order of 15 per person.
 
Drunk Racist Uncle Day: A toast to the guys who really enjoy the holiday the most.
 
Carbon and Carbohydrates Day: Eliminate the whole antiquated gratitude/Pilgrim angle and celebrate the real heroes of the feast—pie, stuffing, yams and jet fuel.
 
The Fourth Thursday in November: Bland “Happy Holidays” version of the day. Celebrated by buying plastic-wrapped turkey sandwiches at 7-11.
 
Trumpsgiving:  No actual celebration of gratitude for anything, as its namesake has failed to demonstrate time and time again. Instead of turkey getting eaten, pussy gets grabbed. Junior family members have to bribe the patriarch to get any food at all, and in wealthier clans, a bus is parked in the yard and people take turns throwing each other under it.

The wresting of state legislatures from Republican control has resulted in some states passing what they like to call “common sense” gun laws, like making people be 21 before they can buy a machine gun and “red flag” laws, which let the cops take guns away from people who seem to be homicidal or suicidal.
 
Modeled after sanctuary city ordinances, which allow local police to refuse to cooperate with ICE, gun sanctuary laws say the local sheriff can refuse to enforce gun laws passed by the state government.
 
“About time,” said Sheriff Humble Bugtick of Chitlin County, in the far west of Virginia. “Guns don’t want to be regulated by some Dimcrats in Richmond. Like Mexican kids in cages, they want to be free, except that guns are legal and belong in this country.
 
“A gun has the right to be stuffed under the sofa cushions, or carried in a purse so that a toddler can grab it and put a bullet in his mom. Guns belong everywhere, especially the bedroom, where they can be grabbed in case of an intruder or used in role-playing during kinky sex which occasionally results in a gunshot wound.
 
“Kids shooting each other with guns they have found in tool boxes or on your favorite stump in the yard to plink beer cans off of is a rich Southern tradition, like mixing mint juleps or making black people wait in line for hours to vote.
 
“Having a gun nearby makes people here feel safer. Voters here don’t like the thought of regaining consciousness from a Jim Beam or an Oxy stupor and not being able to grab a gun and point it at whatever woke ‘em up.
 
“A man’s got a right to defend his home, tent, still or meth lab out here. And we don’t want no part of them red flag laws where you decide in advance that a gun owner is homicidal or suicidal and take away all his guns. So what if a guy wants to kill his whole family and then himself? The Bible teaches that the most of them unfortunate people are going to Heaven anyway, and it clears out a pew in church.
 
“Let guns be free. And by that, I mean, let them be freely traded at swap meets and sold proudly in liquor stores without all those troublesome background checks. Let them be open-carried into CVS and Walmart. And if them Dimcrats want to come out here and try and take them away, we’ll be waiting for them.”

With that, the Sheriff tapped his sidearm meaningfully, which caused it to accidentally discharge, with the bullet apparently hitting the official in the foot. “Criminey,” he said as he limped off. “Been meaning to start wearing that holster on the other side.”

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!”