To the deafening screams and shouts of what could easily be the largest turnout in American history, the newly elected forty fifth President of the United States walks onto the stage of his inaugural pronouncement.  The location for this policy setting speech is deliberate and telling; nestled between the Museum of American History and the Department of Agriculture at the National Mall with the large phallic visage of the Washington Monument providing the backdrop, the POTUS hopes to emphasize both the revolutionary character a non-political billionaire narcissist will undoubtedly bring to the White House and to let the world know that “we” possess a huge throbbing white cock and the will to wield that meaty stallion against all those who stands in America’s way.  Of course “America’s way” is his way, after all the people have spoken and chosen this man amongst men to lead them.  A man with the most elegant hair of any who have served in the office of president, a man whose rather wall centered foreign policy struck a large nerve with the great majority of Americans, a man known on his reality show as “The Donald,” and now a man whom you may call President Trump.

The stage upon which Trump stands in akin to what one might find amongst the drugged and drunken rabble at some festival show.  Scaffolding posts holding aloft a canvassed roof adorned with a giant image of Trump’s face, the campaign slogan “Make America Great” alongside simple reminders of the new president’s name plaster the façade with giant American flags acting as sentries.  All the canvassing was the signature Trump blue of his glorious campaign, along with random red and white stars dotted the scene adding to the ambiance of patriotism, and the sheer greatness of a man who possessed the sheer will to topple the centuries old political establishment armed with nothing more than misogyny, xenophobia, casual racism, and the promise of a big fucking wall!

The crowd is absolutely tremendous.  Nobody previously realized or took seriously the numbers of support Trump was able to garner throughout the thickened arteries of all points between the coasts.  NYC, LA, Chicago, and other leftist leaning metropolises might not have supported him, but every Bum-fuck Virginian and Johnny Suburbs were scooped up into The Donald’s fear mongering arms like scared kiddies who need daddy.  What were they so afraid of?  Well aside from the propaganda about all peoples not American, there was the fear of dynasty that runs through the depths of the American psyche.  Two Bush’s had their turn in office and the Clinton’s were not going to get that same opportunity.  In the minds of the majority of Americans, they were faced with the choice between the woman whom embodied the very fabric of a political system virtually nobody trusted, and the man who made jokes about how he abused that very same corrupt system.  Oblivious to hypocrisy and with bellies full of ignorance born of propaganda, America chose its new face and they stood in veneration and awe.  They acted as though there were some high-speed automobiles continuously veering left or some group of athletes were trying to score points against some other group of similar athletes.  Jumps of joy, hand-clapping, fist pumps, hooting and hollering, screams of ecstasy, patriotism, campaign slogan chants, and varied racial slurs all swarmed together forming a deafening vortex of dumb rendering useless any hopes of hearing oneself think.  The crowd was awash in patriotic colors, whether it be hats, shirts, Zoobas, and/or shoes, these proud people numbering around half a million showed up in force to celebrate the individual freedom Trump touted so heavily during his campaign by ironically cheering in unison and dressing near identical.  Perhaps oddest of all were those few wearing Trump styled wigs as a symbol of their unwavering loyalty.  That fashion choice alongside their choired chants of “our leader is chosen” and “all hail the new chief” would have seemed to others in attendance as cult like had they not been caught up in their own fervor which was quickly approaching its fever pitch.

Standing at the epicenter of this raucous melee of ravenous sycophants while being surrounded and shadowed by both secret service and his own personal bodyguards was the man of the hour, President Trump.  The mythical star of Bethlehem paled in radiance and majesty in comparison with the magnificent fashion in which Trump stood over his people, and yet not a wise man was to be found amongst this hoard of flatterers so eager to consume his mighty word.  Gazing out upon his fleshy mass of followers, Trump couldn’t help but contort his anus like mouth into an awkwardly lopsided grin.  “Finally” Trump thought, “after all these months spent travelling around meeting and greeting all these losers, after dealing with cunts like Megyn Kelly and Hilary Clinton, after having to put up with Mexican trash interrupting my perfectly crafted speeches…FINALLY!  I’VE DONE IT…I’VE WON!”  Adjusting the microphone and pausing momentarily to let the crowd simmer, Trump began addressing his flock:

My fellow Americans today marks a great new day that will be looked back upon throughout history as the day America started becoming great again.  You know, when I first started campaigning I knew that the people…that YOU people wanted a leader who would do what’s necessary to make America great again, to turn America back into the winner it used to be and now you’ve elected me to do just that.  I have developed a three part plan in order to make America great again.  It’s a finely constructed plan and I believe it is the best way to do what we want to do.  First, we will deal with the illegal immigrants plaguing our great country, second we’ll deal with the Chinese stealing our jobs and business, and finally we’ll deal with those terrorists in the Middle East once and for all.  I know we can accomplish these things because we are a strong people capable of anything and I know I am the man to lead us there.  The days of career politicians giving our country away to the highest bidder are over!  It’s time to take America back!

The crowd roared to life as Trump paused to absorb the energy and sheer magnitude of this his greatest feat.  The fervor and unyielding loyalty were almost too great to be believed.  “How can they be so loyal, I must truly be the greatest leader of all time” the newly anointed leader pondered as he stood proudly with hair shimmering in the spot lights almost as if it were illuminated from within.  Unfortunately all good things must end and Trumps gratuitous id feeding frenzy was no different, for unbeknownst to all who bore witness to this fateful day the seeds of treasonous intent were being sown beneath the Donald’s feet, and the consequences would shock and change the face of the world.

“It’s way too fucking hot under this stage! Let’s hurry the fuck up all ready” the exasperated Hispanic man quipped.  “Shut the fuck up, we won’t hear the cue over your bitching!” his partner snapped back.  Both were similar in stature, small and slim, in the mid-twenties, and of Mexican descent.  Both were born in America to legal Naturalized immigrants, and sick of the racist tidal wave unleashed upon them by the man standing two feet above their heads.  But this is not the sort of terrorist plot normally thought of, for there are no bombs, no guns, and no lethal intent whatsoever.  In reality it would be more appropriate to call what these two young men have planned a prank, though the public mood is far too uptight, defensive, and scared for that sort of analysis.  The unfortunate reality of the situation is that crime will be overblown, the national rage against all things Hispanic will boil over, and repercussions will be brutal, but since when do college aged kids properly think through all the ramifications of their actions?  Trump’s speech was feverishly working toward its crescendo and the boys prepared to execute their plot.  The rigging was amazingly simple to setup considering the high level of security present.  Apparently all the heightened vigilance concerning Mexicans didn’t translate well when it came to two nameless workers feigning help in constructing the stage.  Uniformed in blue overalls, nobody said a word as they helped carry materials from tractor trailers to inside the perimeter of security.  Once inside they anonymously set to work installing pulleys and rope which had no business on that stage, all the while being completely ignored by the bevy of workers and security too consumed in their own duties to pay any mind to “the help.”  Attached to the end of that rope and centered perfectly above where Trump would be standing was a bucket, which perhaps constituted the gravest breech in security for how could an unknown minority stand atop a ladder pouring a red viscous fluid into it without being noticed?  Regardless of the holes in security, it was this fluid that was to provide the exclamation point to the boy’s protest against the unfettered racism Trump implicitly endorsed; see the buckets contents did not consist of red colored water, fruit punch, or even human blood!  For this point to be made properly a very special sacrifice had to be made, and what better way to make it than to use the thick, putrid blood from one of the ever-elusive and very dangerous Chupacabra!  Calling the blood of this epic destroyer of goats and all other things small farm animal vile would be far too kind; it is the sort of disgusting that will force the uninitiated into involuntary fits of vomiting and possible diarrhea.  In other words, it would leave a taste in Trump’s mouth that he wouldn’t soon forget.

Nervously the two vandals waited for the climax of Trump’s speech to unleash their Carrie inspired hoax.  Sweaty hands gripped the rope with white knuckles of pure intent.  The time was finally upon them to earn their place in history.  If only they knew how correct that statement were then maybe they would have reversed course.  The six little magic words they were waiting for “It’s time to take America back” were uttered and with solemn determination they both yanked on the rope for all they were worth.  Topside the crowd was caught up in a fit of pure hysteria as their leader stood proudly in front of the podium, arms outstretched with a look of pure ecstasy upon his face.  Then, as if in slow motion, blood fell from the sky.

The dictionary describes a miracle as an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause.  Perhaps it’s a severe lack of understanding that has since led some to use that word to describe the events of that fateful day, or it could simply be the blind devoted faith of the possessed.  In any event, the day of Trump’s departure from humanity and simultaneous ascension to benevolence has been referred to in miraculous terms such as The Rebirth, The Resurrection, and The Second Coming by more than a few.  But this is jumping ahead a bit and a full exposition of that day’s events is in order if full understanding is to be gained of our current situation.

Blood fell from the sky that day drenching President Trump from head to toe in the viscous, vile, vital fluids of that great ruiner of livestock the Chupacabra.  Moments of time seemed to collide like an interstate pile-up as the roar of the crowd was instantaneously replaced with deafening silence.  Every eyeball was fixated on the sacrificial offering now enveloping their savior of apple pie, white picket fences and two and a half children.  Then a lone hissing began permeating the ubiquitous silence; at first so slight that only the police dogs reacted with growls and barks aimed at the stage, but it soon grew audible to the audience and then much louder.  Blank stares of astonishment soon turned to contorted expressions of terror as increasingly voluminous hissing was accompanied by a cloud of steam cyclically swirling round Trump.  One might think shrieks of terror or agony would accompany a man caught in some sort of invisible pressure cooker, but Trump simply stood there in silence as his bodily host began liquefying into a gelatinous, amorphous mess.  One observer would later note how eerily similar the whole affair was to that famous scene from The Wizard of Oz.  The hissing eventually ebbed and all that remained of The Donald lay smoking behind the podium.  The crowd was singularly motionless as those contorted expressions of terror slowly relaxed into doe-eyed astonishment.  Faint sounds of shoes tapping on stage signaled the arrival of various members of security, guns drawn and completely clueless to what they were witnessing.  Two men moved the podium to side in an effort to conduct investigative work which allowed the crowd access to the gelatinous remains of their commander-in-chief.  Security gathered around as the crowd took in the sight; the President had been reduced to a revolting pile of goo along with smatterings of Chupacabra blood strewn about the place.  Perhaps the most perplexing aspect of the whole maddening sight was the toupee, perfectly preserved and resting just beneath the oozy surface of Trump’s remains.

At this point something fantastic occurred, the Trump goo began to jiggle!  It was very slight at first, then with increasing momentum the whole pile began to almost lift off the ground.  The motion seemed to be generated by the toupee as it wiggled about beneath the surface. Then with a loud *POP* the toupee shot out of the muck and spiraled skyward reaching a height of about thirty feet before slowly descending to an average human height where it remained suspended in mid-air!  Besides those who went faint from the sight, every person present remained motionless and transfixed; so did the toupee for a few intense moments as it quickly adjusted itself to being without a host.  Then strings of hair began flipping and flopping about as it turned ninety degrees to reveal its face to the crowd; two big bulging bright yellow eyes almost glowing with intensity, and a mouth which perfectly mimicked that of its former host being small and puckered like a butthole.  With some quiet thuds a few more of the audience collapsed at this impossible sight.  Only the security stood fast as if under some secret spell that forbade them from acting in the appropriate human manner.  With all eyes and television cameras fixed on the floating monstrosity it addressed the world, “My fellow Americans…” That voice, it was Trumps! –and it seemed to be being transmitted psychically.  The hair piece continued, “…and YES, you are MY fellow Americans for I am one of you.  I was born here in this great land and I was attached to my first and only host here.  The man you knew as The Donald and I have been together since both our infancy, as were his parents and mine, our families have been a part of each for generations and now he’s gone.”  Those bright yellow eyes seemed to glare into every person’s very being and for a moment one could actually feel this being’s pain and anguish at losing such an intimate aspect of its self.  “Rest assured those responsible for this travesty will be properly punished!” bellowed the incensed toupee as two young Hispanic men can be seen in the background being dragged away by security.  “For now I suppose it will suffice to explain what happened to the Trump host and where we as a nation need to go from here.  First I must offer an apology for I have not been completely forthcoming with you when I spoke of the Mexican threat to our country.  It is true that Mexico is sending a bunch of rapists and murderers into our country and yes the illegals streaming across our borders are stealing our jobs, but there is something more to the blight of the Mexicans that I have hitherto share.  See my race has been able to fully adapt itself to coexistence amongst humanity on Earth.  We have been here for a long while now and have lived our lives in plain sight playing the role of soothing your self-conscious fears of male pattern baldness.  You call us by many names: rug, wig, piece, toupee, and others.  Our native name is not comprehendible to your primitive primate minds, so I suppose for the sake of brevity you may call me Trumpee.  Now, while we have been able to adjust to mostly everything on your planet, the disgusting blood those damned Chupacabra possess still proves quite lethal to our hosts whenever and to whatever degree we are exposed.  That is the further reason I hold contempt toward that region, but make no mistake they are an affront to everything we hold dear as Americans!”  At this point Trumpee fell silent as it’s piercing stare mesmerized all those foolish enough to gaze upon it.  Trumpee’s race is psychic and the unprepared are always quick to fall prey to their hairy whiles.  It continued, “so what then of the future my fellow Americans?  Unbeknownst to your planet’s primitive defense systems a colonial expeditionary force has been in orbit for some time now, and has been waiting for the proper time for incursion.  Do not fret, the feeling of joining is like what you humans think of as “divine” and preparations have been made to ensure that what happened to my host will never happen again.”

With the end of that sentence Trumpee utilized its tremendous mind to flick a non-physical switch which changed the course of human history.  Down near the U.S. Mexican border the ground began to shake as if the Earth itself were being torn asunder.  From Texas to California giant patches of land were heaved into the air as a giant steel wall slowly emerged from the Earth and rising to an incredible five hundred feet high.  As the wall rose skyward the colonial ship sitting for months in deep orbit began its decent.  Our defensive measures were neutralized; the people watching the inauguration were hypnotized by Trumpee’s incredible mind and those who skipped it were clueless to the invasion leaving them no time to prepare.  The military decimated itself while the populous either sat quietly mesmerized or were taken completely off guard and had little to no chance.  The space carrier reached an altitude of roughly fifteen thousand feet somewhere over Nebraska and released its load upon the continental United States.  Hundreds of millions of flying toupees moved swiftly across the land attaching themselves to every person they could get their strands on.  Once someone is taken as a host their free will and possibly consciousness are subverted as they become nothing more than fleshy vehicles for the toupees to operate as they see fit.  Many a great head of hair was ruined that day.  Some of us were able to escape hairy corruption and fled underground.  We were able to form small pockets of resistance and under the leadership of the great Colonel Sanders have been able to survive freely.  Eventually he was cut down, but we still fight on in desperate hope of a better tomorrow.  It’s been 11 years since that fateful day and most of the world has been turned into mindless toupee wearing automatons.  The only hope we have is this letter reaching into the past in order to avoid what your future will become.  We’ve found a way to transmit small quantities of information at the quantum level allowing me to send this letter to you in my past.  If you’re reading this then please stop this from happening!  Don’t let this future happen; don’t let your future come to an end.  Don’t let the aliens come to power, don’t vote for Trump!

The End?

This is more important to most Americans than policy decisions

When it comes to obsolete British monarchy with German ancestry, I am time and time again amazed by the obsessed behavior displayed by housewives and soccer moms on both sides of the pond.  The obsession with Prince William and Kate Middleton is so over the top and so entrenched in certain circles that it is actually hard to believe.  For instance, according to CTV news there are, amongst other things, odds being placed on what their child’s name will be, press camping out in front of the hospital Mrs. Middleton is planning on staying in, they are receiving gifts (including condoms) from foreign governments, and speculation even abounds that the birth of this child will help the economy.  I suppose I am either preaching to the choir or being a berating asshole depending on your viewpoint, but seriously I want to know, why is it that these people having a child, or getting married, or how much they party, or what he did in the military, or ANYTHING they have ever done, are doing, or will do matter so damn much to people?  I suppose I could ask that question about every celebrity really, but I will just stick to these two for now.  Who cares if a soon to be token king and his high school sweetheart have a child?  The fact I even know they met in high school is more information than I ever want to have about either of them.

Just a small 50,000+ casualty mistake

Seriously, there are important issues and decisions happening EVERY DAY that every American should be concerned with.  How many proponents (or opponents) of DOMA know that the government used some back-handed shit to get that law overturned?  Yay gays can get marriage benefits, but the downside is that the executive has the power to overturn laws without the congress (though this has been a trend that goes back to Jefferson so I suppose it’s nothing new for most Americans to not know).  It seems our collective naivete with regards to all things legislative, executive, and judicial is growing at an exponential rate, and for a long while now there have been those who are not only aware of this, but use it to manipulate situations to their own ends.  Look up the Gulf of Tonkin incident if you don’t believe me.

imagesMuch has been made of the recent NSA warrantless surveillance controversy and the man who leaked these classified documents for the world to see, and regardless if you think Edward Snowden is a hero for the justice and freedom of humanity or a treacherous traitor enabling terrorists to raze America to the ground, you have to admit these documents are quite telling of the lengths our government is willing to go in the name of security.  Now multitudes of people have come out both supporting and condemning the United State’s clandestine eavesdropping activities, and to try and argue against this or that person would be an exercise in futility.  Instead, I want to highlight a couple of key aspects of of the NSA’s program (appropriately named Operation PRISM) and how, in my opinion the temptation to overstep boundaries the U.S. government themselves have set are too easy to exercise.

The first thing to understand is what exactly Operation PRISM is and what it entails.  Operation PRISM is a Top-Secret U.S. government program involving the gathering of personal information from nine major internet companies (Microsoft, Yahoo, Google, Facebook, PalTalk, AOL, Skype, YouTube and Apple) so they can sift through that information searching for possible terrorist threats.  This program is directed toward non-US citizens living outside the United States and receives its permissions from a federal judge operating out of a special court under the broader ranging Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA).  So in theory, the United States government (as well as the British GCHQ) mine personal data on foreign citizens in sovereign states to try and root out those who might be plotting an attack against the homeland or its interests abroad.

Here one might ask (especially if they live somewhere other than the United States) “well what about America, does the NSA spy on American citizens?”  After all it only seems fair right?  The answer is of course a resounding YES.  According to

With the participation of those companies, PRISM – and therefore Washington intelligence workers – “incidentally” have access to the bulk of Americans’ email, video and voice chat, videos, photos, voice-over-IP (Skype) chats, file transfers and social networking details.

Now the use of the term “incidentally” implies that any information gained on American citizens is done so accidentally and Obama has publicly defended these practices with a balancing security and privacy argument as reported in the Huffington Post:

It’s important to recognize that you can’t have 100 percent security and also then have 100 percent privacy and zero inconvenience. We’re going to have to make some choices as a society. And what I can say is that in evaluating these programs, they make a difference in our capacity to anticipate and prevent possible terrorist activity.

There has been a lot of outrage over these accusations that the U.S. government has been spying on its own citizens.  Outrage further fueled by Obama admitting the truth of the claims, and defending them with various blurred lines in the sand such as “Nobody is listening to your telephone calls” (there is also a program for tapping phones) and throwing the blame on every member of Congress who has been briefed on the program (i.e. ALL of them).  However, not as much outrage as you might think; according to a recent Washington Post-Pew Research Center poll “56 percent of Americans consider the NSA’s accessing of telephone call records of millions of Americans through secret court orders “acceptable,” while 41 percent call the practice “unacceptable.”  Now if 56 percent of Americans are alright with their government spying on them out of their own fear of an attack, how many do you think are on board with spying on the rest of the world?  There is this inflated sense of national self-hood in this country and a tendency to think of the rest of the world as inferior to or not-as-good-as the ol’ USA that is generally shared by a great many of the masses.  Unfortunately for these apathetic denizens of the land of freedom, fried-foods, and fatties, there are a great number of people throughout the world having their privacy trampled on by government sanctioned eavesdropping.

In the interest of brevity I will only point out a couple of examples where the NSA’s spying techniques seem to be increasingly slipping down that slope of continual lines in the sand.  The first comes from our friends up north.  CTV News has reported that Canadians using American based online services (i.e. any of those listed above) might also be subjected to surveillance.  According to Canadian cyber-security expert Keith Murphy “The vast majority of our data and activities online is being routed through our neighbours to the south and so we are subject to all their regulations anyway, regardless of what the authorities in Canada might be doing.”  Now there are a bunch of oversights built into the program that are supposed to limit who can be spied on and in what context, and certainly the US wouldn’t want Canada (or any of their other allies) thinking they were spying on them…especially if the NSA actually IS spying on them.

In the latest round of leaked documents from mister Snowden, the US has been spying on 38 different embassies and mission which they call “targets.”  The spying involves both phone tapping as well as monitoring electronic communications, includes American allies such as France, Italy, Greece, Mexico, EU missions, Japan, South Korea, and India, and apparently have the aim of finding out inside knowledge on policy disagreements between them and the US.  Obama is vehemently defending the NSA’s practices with rather vague statements such as “In European capitals, people are interested not just in what I had for breakfast, but what my talking points are when I’m meeting with their leaders,” which suggests that Obama wants to say European countries also gather intelligence while he himself scrambles to develop some sort of cogent line of thought.  What I find shocking here is that the NSA’s justification for spying on American allies.  Gathering inside information on policy differences is a far cry from searching for potential terrorist plots and now we see how the slippery slope is progressing.  In a months time we have gone from the NSA gathering information on foreigners suspected of plotting against America, to spying on its own citizens (which is A-OK as long as the scary bad guys can’t hurt them), to spying on their allies who might think differently about global warming or corporate sanctions.  It is a scary thing when this sort of power can go unchecked as it apparently is.  I’m sure no secret court around gave the NSA (or anybody else) permission to spy on France or Italy which further suggests that this power is indeed going unchecked.  I will be curious to see what sort of excuse Obama’s administration will come up to explain away this latest allegation and even more curious as to see what next revelations will come to light.


It’s hard not to follow the unfolding events of butter-cooking queen Paula Deen and her recent proclamations about the African-American community.  From her initial revelation under oath that she used “the N-word” after being held up, to her rather folksy racist views about her poor token friend Hollis not being discernible from a blackboard, to her thoughts on how a proper wedding should be held, it seems as if whenever Paula turns up in the news these day it’s because of some new crazy implication about her deep racist views.  Even Jesse Jackson has chimed in saying Paula can be “redeemed” and now all the pieces are in place for at least two more news cycles of inane gossip and garbage that passes for news these days.  The thing is, NONE of this ever had to happen.

The way I figure it is either Paula Deen is so incredibly racist that she had to at least admit to once using the infamous slur under oath to help ease her sensibilities, or she is a moron who doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.  I’m voting for the latter.  You have to realize that this deposition came as a result of a lawsuit filed by Lisa Jackson, a former employee at one of Deen’s restaurants.  The suit alleges (among other things) that “racially discriminatory attitudes pervade,” African-Americans were held to “different, more stringent, standards” than whites at the restaurant, Hiers (Deen’s brother and co-owner) regularly made offensive racial remarks, Hiers violently shook employees on multiple occasions and came to work in an “almost constant state of intoxication,” and in showing Deen’s racism Jackson claims that while discussing a wedding she said “Well what I would really like is a bunch of little niggers to wear long-sleeve white shirts, black shorts and black bow ties, you know in the Shirley Temple days, they used to tap dance around. Now that would be a true southern wedding, wouldn’t it? But we can’t do that because the media would be on me about that.”

Please tell me this shit doesn’t exist.

Now these are some serious allegations and in her defense Deen says they are all patently false…and THAT should be the end of the story until the trial itself unfolds.  But now here is where Deen steps in and proceeds to shoot herself in the foot.  She admits in the deposition to using the “N-word” back in 1986 after being robbed.  A moment of weakness?  A slip of the tongue?  Perhaps.  But let me ask you this, how well can anybody remember ANYTHING they said 18 years ago, especially while under duress?  No, the proper response should have been “No, to my best knowledge I have never used any racially offensive terms.”  That answer makes much more sense than “I used it once back in ’86” which sounds much more like she’s hiding something and could only come up with that bullshit statement on the fly.

From here things have just seemed to have snowballed out of control for poor Paula.  She put out some ridiculous apology video which only further muddies the matters, and in response has been dropped from 11 companies including losing her cooking show and her new cookbook.  All in all some bad times for the former queen of heart clogging sugar spiking southern goodness.

Then there is this article.  See the whole reason behind Lisa Jackson’s lawsuit is that she is “African-American adjacent” which means my fourth cousin Willie on my husband’s side is black so I will use that to justify the racism I see around me.  This seems like a pretty flimsy premise to initiate a multimillion dollar lawsuit to begin with, and you would think that Paula’s lawyers would be focusing on either disproving this claim, or showing that it s not really Jackson’s motivation…and they are.  In an ironic (if not moronic) twist, Deen’s camp is claiming that Lisa Jackson in fact has NO African-American relatives on either her or her husband’s side of the family.  Shocking to say the least.  However not as shocking as the fact that this whole very public debacle being public in the first place is all of Paula’s doing.  Every misstep, every unfortunate quote, every move further down the rabbit hole has all been due to Deen saying increasing ridiculous shit trying to revert previously said ridiculous shit.  It’s like an ever-increasing black hole of bullshit that will only end when Paula lets herslef be sucked down into the middle of it and disappear from the public spotlight.  Yeah, like that will ever happen.

There have been a lot of disheartening stories in the news as of late.  With the tornadoes in the mid-west, the revelations that the NSA has been spying on pretty much everyone in the world, and ignorant bigots wrapping themselves in the veil of religion to spew their hatred, the news seems to be nothing but tragedy and heartbreak as of late.  Well fear not true patriots of the stars and stripes, for there is one piece of news out there that is sure to get the collective artery-clogged hearts of America dysrhythmically pumping with agonizing chest pains of joy.  Look who’s back in town…

That’s right, Hostess announced today that Twinkies, CupCakes and Donettes will all be returning to store shelves on July 15.  Now perhaps there are some of you (Europeans presumably) who might not think that this is terribly important or relevant in the grand scheme of things.  After all, Nelson Mandela is dying (and who knows what kind of drama will come of it), The Taliban are attacking the presidential palace in Kabul, and HOLY SHIT plants can do math, but for the great unwashed mass that is the collective of general American thought none of this matters.  What matters is that two attention whores start ruining their child at birth, and everyone’s favorite creme filled pastry treat is back on the shelves.  I won’t bore you with the details of the restructuring of the company, who’s investing, or any other insignificant information, I will simply point out that when push comes to shove, American’s will indeed fight for and support what they deem to be a worthy cause; after all Hostess did help out the American housewife.  So fear not Paula Deen, even though you present yourself like some sort of time traveler from the pre Civil War south, know that when it comes down to what matters most Americans will proudly stand behind you, your fried buttery treats, and your indentured servants in the back room doing all the heavy lifting.

%d bloggers like this: