DIAPER DON & THE MAGA MAXI PAD

Yeah, he's just such an admirable pillar of strength

By now, everyone has formed an opinion about what happened to Donald Trump last Saturday in Butler, Pennsylvania.

To be clear, Trump was not shot. He was shot AT. If a bullet from an AR-15—the MAGA Weapon of Anti-Choice—had touched any part of his body, that part of his body would no longer be a part of his body.

If you’re MAGA, you immediately began twisting yourself into a conspiracy pretzel because you need to believe the Democrats tried to carry out a “Deep State False Flag PsyOp” to take down Trump and we almost succeeded.

If you’re a Democrat, you’re questioning why Trump wasn’t whisked off stage immediately by his Secret Service detail instead of being propped up for a very grift-worthy and bloody photo op by pumping his widdle fist a la Josh Hawley.

(Also, it looked like Kim Guilfoyle kissed Trump on the side of his face with her overinflated trout mouth. The blood stuff seemed…theatrical.)

Once we learned the shooter was the 20-year-old conservative Christian son of a gun-owning Libertarian, Democrats collectively exhaled while the MAGA Conspiracy Pretzel Machine went into hyper-overdrive.

I am personally delighted Trump wasn’t seriously hurt, because I want him alive and well enough to face sentencing in September along with the other trials still ahead of him.

But they’ll never stop trying to pin it on us.

Our “violent rhetoric” made Thomas Crooks act alone on that rooftop, where he ended up killing a retired fire captain and only managed to graze Trump with a small piece of the Teleprompter that broke off when a bullet from his AR-15 missed its intended target.

He certainly didn’t seem traumatized the next day when he was joking about it on the golf course. Sinking a putt, Trump joked, “I never miss a shot, unlike the shooter.” And his paid sycophants laughed while President Joe Biden called the widow of the man who died protecting his family from the barrage of AR-15 bullets.

Trump has yet to reach out to Casey Comperatore’s family, I guess because he was too busy making sure his makeup matched with his brand new VP pick, cravenly ambitious eyeliner enthusiast and domestic abuser JD “Hillbilly Effigy” Vance, who only a few years ago compared Trump to Hitler.

It’s amazing how a few extra rubles in your bank account can turn you into a fucking traitor, huh JD? The Biden-Harris campaign has already destroyed JD in their official response, and I’m going to enjoy watching Vice President Kamala Harris own him in their debate SO MUCH.

Like, Kamala was ready to destroy him before she even met him, that’s how good she is. That fly was trying to airlift Mike Pence to safety, y’all.

Anyway, Donny Photo Op attached a giant Stayfree Maxi Pad to his fake boo-boo to garner sympathy, when all it did was make us laugh our asses off. This is your guy, really? He couldn’t even find an Always so that the “blood” would be absorbed better.

Oddly, the “bandage” disappeared by the time he galumphed onto the RNC stage. And it definitely wasn’t there when he fell asleep, just like he did in court.

So virile! So fired up and ready to go…back to bed!

If you’re someone who looks at that childfucka and sees strength, I suggest you make an appointment with your eye doctor because you have MAGA Myopia.

The sight of these two orange Russian assets together should really move Democrats to forget about the tired anti-Biden bias ginned up by the MSM.

I mean, the buffoonery on display here is just so cringe. How can anyone look at those two domestic abusers with anything but revulsion? Also, JD’s poor subjugated wife, Usha, is a Brown Indian woman—just like Nikki Haley and VP Harris—and some MAGA misogynoirists aren’t happy about it.

More problematic is that Sad Usha also once clerked for beer-loving Friend of Squee Brett Kavanaugh. I’m sure that wouldn’t be a conflict of interest should the Trump-Vance campaign decide to challenge an election loss. It’s all fine, right?

Interestingly, Sad Usha used to be a Democrat, and her husband used to talk all tough about Trump. There’s a story there we’ll never hear, because Hillbilly Effigy has a history of changing his life story to suit his current craven ambition.

Sad Usha is extra sad about having to quit her law firm job, and rumors are already flying that she really doesn’t want to be Second Lady in a Project2025 Administration.

Thankfully, Democrats have a newly invigorated Joe Biden leading us, and even when he stumbles over his words or falls off a bike, he never walks around with a giant feminine napkin on his face.

LET’S GO, DARK BRANDON!

Who shut down Lester Holt last night, btw.

Switching gears, it’s really hard to promote a book in the middle of MAGA trying very hard to start a Civil War, especially when you’re self-published and suppressed on Twitter because Elon Musk is fully owned by Putin.

September will mark the first anniversary of when I released my beloved rock & roll love story, The Sound of Settling. My goal is to reach 1000 copies sold, which doesn’t sound like a lot when you consider the kind of social media follower numbers I have, but then again…it’s a book, people have extreme ADHD now thanks to the 6-second TikTok video news cycle, and I’m the only one pushing it instead of having a publisher and agent do it for me.

My July 3rd essay about Trump raping children procured for him by Jeffrey Epstein has generated more views than my posts about my book. I understand why, but there’s that part of my lizard brain that asks, “If they like this writing so much, why wouldn’t they get your book?”

That’s not on you, Dear Reader.

But in the fight against Dear Leader, it would be great to also have my book out there in a proper mass-market paperback version.

Please check out my meta-fanfic inspired by Dave Grohl. If you can’t afford to buy a copy, I ask that you simply share the link on your socials. You never know who might see it!

Did I mention I’m exhausted?