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 chemtrails from Tucker Carlson’s jet home from Moscow had barely finished poisoning the air over Eastern Europe when Putin killed Navalny, providing a bracing start to another week bubbling with fresh murders and insanity.
 
Carlson had been to Moscow to kiss the Head Ogre’s ass. Even Russia’s Top Thug was critical of Tucker’s bow-tied white guy’s mealy-mouthedness towards him, probably expecting at least a bland inquiry about his responsibility for hundreds of thousands of deaths and rapes, but Carlson worshipped over Putin like Guy Fieri might slobber over a cheesesteak joint, thereby insuring, to the disappointment of many observers, that he got out of Russia without being poisoned himself.
 
The Kremlin announced blandly that its chief opponent had died of “sudden death syndrome.” This is a Russian euphemism for “getting slipped a KGB roofie.”
 
Back here, the Tangerine Drama Queen continued oozing his way to the Republican nomination for President like a wave of toxic sludge bursting out of a containment pond. Showing his continued delicate touch for race relations, Trump claimed black Americans like him because he is a criminal, like all of them are. Not content with that, he claimed to have restored prayers to public schools, beaten Obama in 2016, made “Israel the capital of Israel,” and promised that Americans would continue to be able to listen to AM radio in their cars.
 
That AM radio plank alone ought to guarantee his anointment in Milwaukee. He nails down the vote of everybody in the US who drives a vehicle made before 1963.
 
He also claimed political kinship with Navalny, except that he hasn’t been poisoned or locked up for years. “Just you wait, motherfucker,” Jack Smith was heard to say afterwards.
 
At the end of the week, he surged to victory in South Carolina despite looking and sounding like a man who had been slipped a massive dose of LSD and then hit in the face with bear spray. That caused all of his handlers to reflect that maybe Trump ought to up the ante on what he could do and still not lose a single vote, from shooting someone on Fifth Avenue in broad daylight as he originally claimed, to maybe exhuming the corpse of Queen Elizabeth and dry-humping it at one of his rallies, or catching Melania fellating Hunter Biden and roasting both of them with a flamethrower he happened to have in his golf cart.
 
He ended his speech in Nashville by saying: "They want you to say what they want you, what they want to have you say. And we're not gonna let that happen. You're going to say as you want & you're going to believe & you're going to believe in God. You're gonna believe in God because God is here & God is watching."
 
At that moment, on His Heavenly throne, God was rumored to have said, “Jesus Christ! Will somebody change the fucking channel?”
 
To which His Son replied, “You’ve got the remote.”

​Satan popped up on my Skype screen again to vent a little. He looked woebegone. His usual gleaming scarlet complexion was verging on a dull purple, and the Satanic glint in his eyes had been replaced by a dull, if still thoroughly unwholesome, stare.
 
“What gives?” I said. “I didn’t think the Evil One got hangovers.”
 
“I don’t,” he said. “The pressure of running Hell just getting to me.”
 
“I imagine. The war in Ukraine must be filling the place up with customers arriving early.”
 
“It’s not them. Most of them just get the standard treatment. Melt a red-hot medallion onto their chests and turn them loose to swim in the Lake of Molten Fire or play along the Beach of Blisters. The grandma-rapers and other war criminals get fileted by my imps when those guys get around to it, which isn’t often—they negotiated a four-day work week for themselves in their last contract, plus unlimited mental health days, claiming that pitchforking souls for all eternity gives them permanent PTSD. Even pouring hot lead down the gullets of politicians to keep them from lying gets old after a while, they say. But you don’t see them on some condemned psychiatrist’s couch on their days off. All they do is hang out at their taverns, drinking boiling wine from gold chalices and playing cornhole with shrunken heads.”
 
“Are you just showing up to complain about your labor issues again?
 
“Hell, no. I’m here to talk about real problems. Vladimir Putin’s going to die one of these days, and I always feel the pressure when someone who really, really, REALLY deserves to be here shows up at the Gates of Despair.”
 
“Are you afraid he’ll take over? He might be qualified.”
 
“Frankly, I wouldn’t mind. Ain’t no vacation days in eternity, and sitting by the Pool of Urine from Failed Drug Tests, sipping the blood of unbaptized boys, and enjoying the screams of the damned from afar sounds like a peaceful way to spend a millennium or so, but there’s no rest for the wicked. Kind of sorry I made up that rule in the first place. But, no—if I let Putin have the run of the place for even a few hours, he’ll drum up some kind of fake referendum to make himself Lucifer-for-Life. I know how that guy works.”
 
“Well, you could just torture him in any of the numerous ways he’s killed people here. Poison his underwear, put polonium in his tea, starve him in some gulag, launch missiles at his head, shoot him from behind when he least expects it. I mean, the ways are almost endless.”
 
“I could, but then I might be accused of a lack of originality.”
 
“Just combine it, then—shoot him while he’s exploding while wearing poisoned underwear and sipping radioactive tea. Over and over. And just for the lulz, push him out of a high window in the Castle of Condemned Souls at random intervals.”
 
“Hmm…not bad. I always knew you were an idea guy.”
 
I blushed. It’s not every day you get praised by THE fallen angel.
 
“Thanks. And oh, by the way—see you soon.”

A phone in a secret room at the Kremlin rings at midnight. VLADIMIR PUTIN answers)

PUTIN: Hallo?

DONALD TRUMP: Vlad, old buddy, it's the Donald. How's your genius invasion of Ukraine going?

PUTIN: At least as well as your trying to avoid getting speared by Merrick Garland is, Donald. But maybe we can help each other.

TRUMP: I was hoping you would say that, Vlad. I've got lots of Top Secret stuff at fire sale prices right now. I've got lawyer bills to pay.

PUTIN: Ordinarily, I would be enthusiastic. But right now I'm spending all my money on Iranian drones. Just until we can get our powerful Russian drones working with the microchips we pried out of toaster ovens, naturally. Also, we have a little manpower shortage over here. ​I know I said I would give you many rubles for the nude pictures of the French President oil-wrestling with Greta Thunberg when she was eleven, but right now I could use some trigger-happy Proud Boys. Got any?

TRUMP: Love to help you, Vlad, but the PB's are keeping on the down-low until the January 6th trials blow over. How about a list of all US spies in Russia?

PUTIN: Anybody I thought was a spy, I sent to Ukraine. Zelensky dropped missiles on them all. Spying problem way down. I can offer Russian citizenship to the Oath Keepers. They can bring their own guns. As a matter of fact, they get double-secret-enhanced-super-citizenship if they bring their own guns.

TRUMP: How about the inside info on Brazil's nuclear defense posture?

PUTIN: Brazil is low on my attack list right now, Donald. How about you have one of your famous packed rallies in Irkutsk in a couple weeks. No-cost airplane tickets  to Russia provided--incoming flights are kind of empty for the next few months. Afterwards, free van transportation to all attendees to their new positions on the front lines in Izyum! 

TRUMP: A direct feed from our spy satellites?

PUTIN: Nyet. Can you persuade Q-Anon that Hillary Clinton is running sex slaves out of a basement in Kyiv? Where they go one, they go all, so they might as well go to Ukraine is what I think.

TRUMP: We're not getting anywhere here, Vlad. But I still wish you well. Don't end up in front of a firing squad. 

PUTIN: You too, old pal. I'm the last person in the world who wants to see you broke and in prison.

(The phone call ends)

TRUMP: Prick!

​PUTIN: ублюдок овец! (Sheep-fucker!)

Ukraine is calling out for volunteers to fight alongside its forces, and while some Americans have responded, the most prominent bearers of arms among us, and the loudest voices against tyranny in our midst, are strangely quiet now that an actual opportunity to fight for freedom is presented to them.
 
Grim-faced men of many nations are flying to Ukraine as I write this, to face off against the Russian aggressors, but none of them are Proud Boys, or 3 Percenters, or Oath Keepers, or anybody else among what I like to call the Fat Boys for Freedom are among them. Or, if they are, they’re keeping a low profile.
 
Could it be that it’s one thing to sneak attack the US Capital when you outnumber the cops ten to one, with an eye to hanging a bunch of unarmed, elderly politicians in suits and heels, which, admittedly, you’ve already proved yourselves dismal failures at, but another thing to face off against an actual armed enemy? I don’t see this as a strong argument for your bravery. The Russian army is more dangerous than whoever it is you are defending yourself against when you open-carry your AR-15 into a Walgreen’s, but, as per the available evidence, not much more.

And don't be whimpering that the US government advises against you fighting in the 'Kraine. Since when do you guys take orders from the Deep State?
 
It's true your supply lines are going to be stretched thin. The European Union does not allow Little Debbie snack cakes to be imported into their continent. The French made sure of that. Loaded nachos are served in very few restaurants in Ukraine. Expect your fellow freedom fighters to look at you blankly when you ask them if they’ve ever had turducken.
 
Whether you will be able to carry Trump and Confederate flags into battle is a difficult question. On one hand, the Ukrainians are winning the battlefield by using sneak attacks and unconventional tactics, and it’s tough to be sneaky when you’re waving a flag the same size as a IHop sign on the interstate.
 
On the other hand, the Russian army, frostbitten, starving, and running out of bullets, may see you as allies. They need help in the worst way, and when they see those Don’t Tread on Me flags and hear the roar of your monster trucks, they may well feel that Tucker Carlson himself has tired of repeating Russian propaganda from his comfy studio in New York and come to the battlefield, knife in teeth, to save them. You may hear them crying “Приди и спаси нас Такер Карлсон!”* and you’ll mutter to yourself “What the hell are them people trying to say?
 
They’re trying to say they’re on your side. And you know what? They probably are.

* Pridi i spasi nas Taker Karlson, or Save us, Tucker Carlson!

The death of millionaire pedophile Jeffrey Epstein while in federal custody last week so far has been ruled an apparent suicide, which nobody in the United States or the world believes because his death was just so goddam convenient, especially for himself.
 
Epstein was taken off suicide watch even though he recently tried to commit suicide. He said he hadn’t tried to kill himself—other inmates had attacked him and left a nasty, ring-shaped bruise around his neck. He apparently talked his way off suicide watch. “I’m in a hella good mood,” he told his jailers. “Looking at a minimum 45 years in the pen and getting every dime of my fortune sued away might give some people pause, but I look back on a lifetime of accomplishments. Hey, I even got Alan Dershowitz laid! Why would I want to leave this earth? I mean, sure, some people think you get 72 virgins when you got to heaven, but I’m pretty sure I’ve already had at least 72 virgins, so what’s my motivation?
 
“Of course, I’m in federal custody, in a correctional system directly under the supervision of Donald Trump, so if I end up possibly murdered in my cell, the only logical person to blame is Hillary Clinton. I’ve always admired her skills. As the runner of a pedophile ring myself, I can only stand in awe of a fellow pedophiliac who can run her ring out of the basement of a pizza joint with no basement. And when I offered to fly Bill Clinton to my special Lolita island in the Caribbean, he turned me down. ‘All the teen cooch that Hillary’s been getting me has me worn down, dude,’ is what he said. So, we just flew to Africa to try and cure AIDS, but there’s your motivation right there. Hillary has always been afraid that Bill might prefer my sex slaves to her sex slaves.
 
“Trump, on the other hand, would never have me killed because we have been really solid bros ever since we tag-teamed that thirteen-year-old that filed suit against him, only to drop it later when she found the severed head of her gerbil in her girly pink canopy bed. When you’re beheading a pet rodent, I’ll tell you what really works—bolt cutters. So, I’d much rather be here, in federal custody, than at my mansion—under the protection of my President, rather than being exposed in my own house, with nothing but an ankle monitor to keep me from ending up like Seth Rich.
 
“I tell you who else I worry about getting to me—Putin! I’ve been worried about him ever since me and Trump watched the pee tape on his giant HD TV at Mar al Lago. Putin likes to poison, so when you bring me my Wheaties in the morning, would you also bring a Geiger counter so I can make sure they’re only normally radioactive?
 
“The other thing that makes me feel safe and comfy here is that if somebody should kill me and make it look like a suicide, which I definitely would not commit, promise, promise!—it would be sure to be investigated by Bill Barr. That dude is my kind of Attorney General. If he wants to get to the bottom of something, he gets to the bottom of it. And if he doesn’t want to get to the bottom of it, well, there probably is no bottom. And I’m sure he’d love to investigate something that really probably might happen, like Hillary leaving Scarborough to kill me in jail.
 
“So, don’t worry about me. Looking at a life sentence of being broke behind bars, with the closest thing to a teen sex slave I’m ever going to have again is a 19-year-old guy who calls himself Juanita, is not the kind of thing that gets a man like me down! Watch the other prisoners. Just leave me with some clothesline to hang these wet jeans on, will ya? And can I get an extension cord? I like the nice, thick yellow ones.
 
“And that belt you guys took away? Can’t find that silly thing anywhere.”

​In a widely-publicized phone call last week, Trump offered Putin American help in putting out Siberian wildfires. In a less-publicized call, he also offered to send American alt-righters to settle pro-democracy protesters’ hash in any future demonstrations in Moscow.
 
A spokesman for the White House elaborated. “Many people think the Russians are doing all right by themselves in beating and arresting anti-Putin protesters, but American fanatics have many advantages over Russian proto-fascists. They drive cars into crowds, for example. Many Russian right-wingers don’t even own cars. We’ve got Americans going to Trump rallies, getting inspired to exercise their 2nd Amendment rights, and then they start blasting away in mosques, churches, synagogues, discos and Walmarts—Putin’s got to be thinking, why wait until your enemies start protesting before eliminating them? And poisoning your opponents is such a bother—over here, we’ve got many people who only need to read a couple articles on Breitbart before they start mailing out those letter bombs.
 
“Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, White Lives Matter, Bikers for Trump—these are guys who would be proud to march in the country that invented anti-Semitism while chanting, “Jew Will Not Replace Us!” As long as they get special clearance from the Russian authorities to bring enough tiki-torches, opioids and crystal meth for the duration when they pass through Moscow customs, they would be happy to stay as long as Putin needs them. I mean, for the first time they’ll being in a country where assaulting gays is completely legal, and owning a libtard is something you can literally do. Like, you can keep one in the basement and nobody cares. They’ll be thinking they’re breathing the pure air of freedom for the very first time. They might not want to come back.
 
“But we want them back. They’re very fine people.”

The news that Putin buddy Viktor Vekselberg, the man known in Moscow as “Человек, который держит путинский промах,” (Translation-- “The guy who holds Putin’s boner”) funneled over half a million from a slush fund in Switzerland to Trump fixer Michael Cohen was pounced upon by the lamestream media as proof that the Russians were cultivating Trump as an asset from the minute he had his mushroom fertilized at the Moscow Ritz, but the Russians denied the deal had anything to do with the current President.
 
A source from the Russian embassy, who insisted on anonymity because, as he said, “My flight to Moscow doesn’t leave until midnight, and I don’t want any FBI agents to have to stay up late nosing around a smelly old terminal at Dulles on my account,” insisted that Russia cut the checks to Cohen just because, “We really dig Michael Cohen. The guy is just a mensch. If he lived in Russia instead of here, he would be Boy Oligarch of the Year every year. For sure.
 
“The guy can totally write a threatening letter. That’s what caught the boss’s eye. I mean the letter he wrote to Yale, threatening them if they ever went public with their rejection of young Trump’s application to their school, was just a work of art. Yale’s reaction to Trump’s request to be admitted there was basically ROTFLOAF (rolling on the floor laughing our asses off). Cohen told them if that ever leaked, they’d never be able to get a taxi in New York again. After that, it was crickets from Yale.
 
“So, we hired him to write a couple threatening letters. He wrote one to the Ukraine, but we had to invade them anyway. We didn’t hold that against Cohen. Because we already had him write one to Angela Merkel telling her to STFU up the gas pipeline she’s been whining for, and to John Podesta, threatening to put his password on Reddit.
 
“When Cohen started lying to Congress, that’s when the boss really started to warm up to him, because Comrade Putin’s motto is, “I’ll lie to anybody’s Congress, including my own, even though I don’t really have to, because I can have them poisoned instead.
 
“So, you see, it’s all about our appreciation for Michael Cohen. We didn’t give him the half mil to pass on information about Trump that we could use blackmail him once he became President. That’s just fake news.  And nobody’s mad at him in Moscow because he turned state’s evidence and implicated everybody in Trump’s orbit this side of Stormy Daniels in some kind of felony. It will definitely be a coincidence if he turns out to be the only inmate in his prison that has a small amount of radioactive materials mixed in with his chow every day. It won’t be Russia condemning him to a horrifying slow death, that’s for sure. People need to think it might be Hillary Clinton, still trying to cover up Uranium One. Everybody at the Kremlin knows she gets all the free radioactive Splenda she wants.
 
“Why doesn’t the media cover that?”

Russia, not to be outdone by their puppet Trump, also declared a national emergency to combat an invasion last week.
 
The residents of Novaya Zemlya, a region of Russia whose name translates, roughly, as “frozen bog where you would have to be out of your friggin’ mind to live in the first place,” are being terrorized by invaders. These invaders are all white, as are the residents of Novaya Zemlya, so there is no racism involved. It’s more species-ism, since the invaders are polar bears.

 
There are eerie parallels to the Trumped-up emergency at our Mexican border. The bears are moving in on Novaya Zemlya because where they were living before is no good for them. Global warming, which is popular in Russia because that nation's most popular indoor sport is freezing your nipples off, is nonetheless causing the ice sheets up north to dissolve. This is where the bears make their living, killing seals that pop up through the ice to breathe. Now that there is no ice to pop up through, the seals can breathe anywhere they want, and wisely chose to inhale where there are no polar bears.
 
Likewise, the polar bears are doing a job no Novaya Zemlyan wants to do—going through the garbage of Novaya Zemlya and eating the bits that humans have already determined are too yucky to snack down on. The locals don’t appreciate this, however—they are frightened out of their skins when they see hungry polar bears roaming their streets, much as a wary American might panic because he or she overheard someone speaking Spanish at a Walmart. Russian parents won't send their kids to school, for fear of them being eaten at the bus stop, just like American parents are alarmed if their children have to go to school with a little brown kid who doesn't know how to text in English.
 
Like Mexico, the polar bears are not sending Russia their best polar bears. They are sending ALL their polar bears. All these beasts want is to escape starvation in their homelands. They are seeking asylum in Russian garbage dumps, eating frozen borscht and turnips, though if the Novaya Zemlyans have any freshly killed seal they don’t know what to do with, the bears would surely appreciate that.
 
Many of these polar bear caravans contain females and cubs, but that doesn’t cut them any slack in Russian opinion, because female and cub polar bears, just like the males, will kill you AND eat you, which even M-13 seldom does.
 
Faced with this bear invasion, the Russians are doing what any sensible nation that actually has a problem with immigrants coming in and terrorizing its citizens would do. They are separating the cubs from their mothers and putting them in cages, naturally, but most importantly, THEY ARE BUILDING A WALL!
 
No word yet on whether the polar bears will pay for it.

The Trump Administration will announce new, wide -ranging sanctions on a certain high-ranking Russian for refusing to poison Special Counsel Robert Mueller, confidential sources say.
 
“The President is just plain pissed at Putin,” the source added. “It’s all they talked about in Helsinki when they had their private confab. Shot in the back of the head, beaten to death, shoved into a hole on a frozen lake, or good old-fashioned radiation poisoning—that’s all Trump asked. Even when Putin offered to let him put a golf course in Syria, the President kept coming back to the subject of whacking Mueller.
 
“Putin, of course, agreed—he was running out of people to murder at home, anyway—but nothing’s happened yet. ‘What is he, another Jeffie Sessions?’ the President said the other day. ‘You can’t recuse yourself from rubbing someone out.”
 
“We know Putin’s got plenty of radioactive material left, because Hillary sold all of our uranium to him. We seriously don’t know what’s going on. Why can’t Putin slip a fatal dose of polonium into Mueller’s tea, like he did that guy in the UK? But he doesn’t. He just keeps coming up with weak excuses, like the fact that Mueller doesn’t drink tea, and Monster, which Mueller drinks six or eight cans of a day, doesn’t conceal the taste of a deadly dose of fissile material nearly as well. Or that all his assassins called in sick. Or that it’s National Political Murder Week in Russia, and all of his hired killers are drinking vodka and eating pickled pig’s heads on the Black Sea.
 
“The sneaky weasel even keeps coming up with other people he’s willing to assassinate—Michael Cohen, Stormy Daniels, Omarosa, and Rachel Maddow—instead of Mueller, which just makes the President suspicious that Mueller’s got something on Putin. Trump thinks it's something really juicy, like a tape of him peeing in Pussy Riot’s underwear drawer, or footage of him having an erotic encounter with that horse he likes to ride around bare-chested, because Trump is pretty obsessed with tapes. All the rest of us don't want to tell him that Putin banged Melania in the men's room in Helsinki, and he's probably just waiting for Mueller to put the boss in chains so he can get some more of that Slovenian stuff. 
 
“Anyway, we’re going to see if confiscating the couple billion Putin keeps in the Caymans is enough to make him get busy with offing Mueller and putting an end to the Rigged Witch Hunt. We’re hoping that Putin’s just putting off Mueller’s dirt nap so he can snuff him in a truly spectacular fashion.
 
Like, what?
 
“Burning him at the stake would be good.”