"2024" BY JOHN BRUNI

 Those of you who have been around me a long time know that if a year has been particularly terrible to me, I write a bizarro horror story about it. It has not escaped my attention, by the way, that these have all been election years so far. This is the third in the series. The first is "2016" and the second is "2020." Check them out first, because this might not make sense if you don't. If this isn't your first rodeo with me, enjoy! (If that's the right word. It might not be. But it must suffice.)

2024

By John Bruni

 

So obviously I didn’t die. While I was passed out, the world changed again. Now we didn’t just have time atrocities, we also had monsters. Vampires owned the night, even though the werewolves owned the moon. Sorcerers and invisible men and ghosts grew more and more powerful by the day.

But I missed all of that. As I lay dying like a Faulkner novel, 2021 was born from the shark-ravaged ruins of 2020, and he was a big bastard. At six-ten and three hundred pounds of pure muscle he wore sunglasses that hid his eyes and a gold chain that could choke Andre the Giant.

And he found me. He later told me that as I’d killed two years and destroyed the planet, I was too dangerous to be free. Hence my lifetime incarceration in his torture chamber. It was a very well-used room. Used on me all year and then passed on to 2022 like a royal scepter. Repeat, give to 2023.

And now I’m owned by 2024, a heartless and adroit torturer. He knew how to bring me to the brink of death and nurse me back to life just to do it all again. He also knew to do no permanent damage. He knew that would result in me giving up.

And he still had plans for me.

He keeps me drunk and on drugs at all times. Then he deprives me of both, sending me into dopesick DTs until I beg for death. Then he shoots me up and gives me whiskey only to do it again. And again. And again.

2024 is a real fucker of fucks, and I want to kill him with every fiber of my being. I keep my eyes open, seeking any opportunity, no matter how hopeless.

It comes in December. Near Christmas. 2024 is now old. Not frail—yet—but he’s starting to miss a step here and there. I just need that step to be close to me. Close enough to bite. My hands and feet are tied to a chair, so it’s the only thing I can do.

The loose hanging skin near the inside of his elbow gets too close to me. I am so weak that I think I might not move fast enough. Then my neck kicks into gear with a near whooshing sound, and I clamp my teeth down on it. Sludgy blood oozes into my mouth and between my teeth. 2024 screams, but I worry my head back and forth and the hunk of flesh comes off like Play-Doh stretched too far. The sensation grosses me out, and I gag, dropping the skin into my lap.

I have no time to think. I must react. I spit the blood at the ropes binding my hands to the chair, hoping to get my wrists wet enough to slip them. The friction burns, but I work frantically to escape.

“Son of a bitch!” 2024 says. He clutches the crescent I bit out of him. That awful gooey blood of his dribbles down like honey instead of the usual liquid flow. “Don’t go anywhere.” Smiling like he didn’t hurt. He charges off, looking for something.

The blood is helping make me slippery, but it’s not good enough. I gnaw at the ropes, pulling back, trying to slide my hand free. I can feel it give a little. The taste in my mouth reminds me of hay and seawater. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s weird, and I struggle faster.

My hand is free! I grab at the rope on my other wrist and claw at the knot, twisting and pulling. I’m almost there! Almost . . . al—

2024 returns with a set of dental tools. He’s going into some villain monologue I don’t bother to listen to. I know what he has in mind. He has yet to look at me, so I must be fast.

My other hand slips out just as he turns to me, holding aloft a tool probably meant to relieve me of my teeth. But he pauses in mid-step. He sees my hands, and a snarl forms on his grizzled face. He lunges forward.

So do I, but I’ve forgotten my legs are still tied to the chair. I belly flop on the floor, cracking my jaw on the hardwood. I bite a sliver off my tongue with a white hot burning pain. It gets stuck between my cheek and teeth.

2024 does not expect my fuckup, so he trips on my head and falls on top of me. The air whumps out of my lungs, but I know the stakes. I can’t grow lax. I twist as much as I can and get my arms around him in an upside down bear hug. Because of my awkward position I don’t have much power in my grip, and he breaks the hold easily. He head butts me in the balls, and I can’t breathe. The pain spreads like warmth through my crotch, and no matter how softly I cup my genitals, I don’t think I’ll be able to function again.

2024 stands, a gun now in his age-gnarled fist. “The others said I should keep you alive, but fuck that. You almost got me. I can’t have that.” He thumbs the hammer back, and the cocking sound is apocalyptic in my ears.

Fuck. This is it. I never should have killed 2016. I close my eyes and wait for the bullet.

I hear the POW loud in my ears, loud enough to cause a ringing. I’m dead, and my ears are ringing? That seems unfair.

I open my eyes to see 2024 standing above me with an exit wound in his chest big enough to hold a dinner plate. His heart is gone, and he’s incredulous about it. Then he crumples, wheezing, death sidling up on him.

A man stands behind him holding a smoking gun. He seems familiar, but it isn’t until I see his remarkable eyebrows that I recognize my savior.

“Luigi Mangione?!” The Adjuster himself?

Luigi reloads, then stows his gun away. “2024 was out of control. I had to stop the bastard. It took me a while to find him, but vengeance is mine.”

I recall the odd looks everyone gave me when I was hunting 2016. It never occurred to me that someone else might think to murder a year.

I hear 2024’s death rattle, and I brace myself. When I killed 2016, the world fast forwarded because it was summer, not the last day of the year. 2024 is almost over, so I don’t expect anything crazy. I think we’re going to be okay.

2024’s corpse lets out a tremendous fart, shaking the world again. I look away, not wanting to see 2025’s birth. These years always come out with a great and terrible flood of diarrhea. I watch Luigi’s horror spread across his face until the shit explosion. He gags, doubled over, thankfully away from me.

Baby 2025 sits in the bloody shit puddle of its predecessor. It gurgles, looking up at us.

“This is fucked up,” Luigi says.

“First time?” I’m thinking of the Buster Scruggs hangman meme.

“What do we do now?”

I remember thinking about baby 2017’s fate. I showed mercy, and look what happened. “We should kill the son of a bitch.”

“Kill a baby?” He shakes his head as if to say, “What a crazy world this is.”

“If we don’t, it will come for us someday.”

“But a baby?”

“Needs must.”

“Doesn’t killing years lead to weird shit?” Luigi asks.

“Fair point. But what’s the worst that can happen? Aliens?”

He nods. “Aliens.”

I hold out my hand for the gun. He thinks about it for a second, then gives it to me. I point it at 2025 and pull back the hammer.

“No mercy,” I say.

“Maybe some mercy?” 2025 says in a high-pitched helium voice.

I pull the trigger, blowing his tiny head off, and wait to see what happens.

THE END

THE COCAINE! BROS. ARE BACK!

 Indeed!

CONSIDERING JOHN BRUNI

 I recently talked with my longtime friend and fellow author, Kent Hill, about Something to Consider, Trancers and a bunch of other cool stuff. Check it out here.

NEW SOCIAL MEDIA

 I got it into my head that I should leave Squitter and pull back significantly on Facebook to limit social media, but now I've done the opposite. I have MORE of a social media presence now. You can find me on Mastodon at @johnbruni and on Bluesky at @tusitalabruni. What the hell is wrong with me?

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #950: FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE

 A while back my stepmom sent me a note from my dad. He'd been thoughtful enough to leave messages to all his loved ones in the event of his death. I thought it would be a good idea to do the same, so I spent some time a couple of weeks ago doing just that.

Have you ever written something meant to be read after you're dead? Mark Twain demanded that his autobiography go unpublished until a hundred years after his death to ensure that everyone he wrote about would be dead. It's not quite the same thing, though, when you're writing something for a specific person to read.

The first thing I noticed was the list of regrets I'd built up without ever realizing it. I have more regrets than I ever thought I would, and I'm not a regretful guy. Not usually. But it was odd how quickly they came pouring out of me when I started writing them down. I was surprised to find I was tearing up while writing some of these. I certainly didn't expect that.

Actually, I *have* written something before meant to be read after my death. I wrote a final GF for you all to be posted as a last message. It didn't feel quite the same, though, as writing to specific people. I hope I've made it easy for my survivors to find everyone I wrote to. These are, after all, physical letters in actual envelopes.

Nature turns to wrapping up another cycle of its life. The leaves fall dead, and the trees are lined with snow. The earth curls inward. The creatures sleep. The end of the year approaches, and we wrap up everything we can. Everything we can't? That's next year's problem.

And yes, I'm wrapping up Goodnight, Fuckers for the year. Next week is Thanksgiving, so my writing vacation officially begins once I post this. (Kind of. I still have GMF on Sunday.) I'll see you all in 2025. I fucking hope. And it's got to be better than 2024. It can't possibly be worse.

Can it?

(Cue the apocalypse . . .)

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #949: THANK THE SPARTANS

 For my birthday I gifted myself the complete collection of Dan Carlin's Hardcore History. I hadn't heard the first 35 shows, so I thought it would be a good investment. As I was listening to one of the early episodes I heard him talking about how Thermopylae was more important than a lot of people realize. Sure, it's a great story, but if it had gone differently it might have changed the course of world history.

I found this a little difficult to believe. If you don't know the story, you know the story. It's the 300 Spartans holding off the Persian Army. The significance of their sacrifice was to buy the Greek city-states time to gather an army to head off Xerxes at the pass. They were able to do this and turn the Persians away.

But what if they didn't succeed? The idea is, Persia conquers Greece and then prevents Greek culture and ideas from spreading out across the world. And which modern country based a lot of their government on Greek culture and ideas? Is it possible that America would never have been founded? Or, at least not in the way that we think of as America. In this alternate reality there might even be a different name for it.

In all likelihood it probably wouldn't have happened that way. The Persians tended toward big picture things, not little picture things. They required a tribute of taxes and able-bodied men in the event of war, and that was it. They left everyone else to live and think and worship as they pleased. As "culture" doesn't really fall under the purview of the ruling empire, I'm pretty sure Greek ideas would have still gotten out there.

But it's kind of fun to think about.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #948: CORPORATIONS AND SMALL BUSINESS OWNERS

You know how I hate advertising. If I'm stuck with commercials, I will not so much as look at the TV. I will not listen. I will not pay attention until my show comes back on. The truly unfortunate side effect of getting high is that I often forget to look away and constantly watch commercials by accident.

I saw this meme earlier, sent by my hetero lifemate Rob Tannahill, and I actually thought, no. Corporations are actually *not* trying to shut down small businesses. I mean, not usually. It happens from time to time, but it's not the standard SOP.

Bill Hicks used to say that commercials used sex appeal to sell things. Now they use nostalgia, which seems to be oddly working better than the sex. But a lot of commercials on the air right now are about corporations ready and willing to help small business owners get their business off the ground. That seems a little . . . different, right?

Why would corporations, who are notoriously in it for themselves (and whatever tax breaks they can get for tricking their customers into donating for causes by "rounding up" instead of donating, themselves), help small business owners? It is a little baffling if you're unfamiliar with corporate tactics.

Why do you think the farmer feeds his pigs so much slop? Why does he smile as they get fatter and fatter? Why do such pigs go for so much money at the county fair?

What do corporations do when they're in trouble? Money's running low, and they're running out of options. They start to look around for another corporation in a similar situation to merge with, sure, but then they would be equal partners in something, and that is unacceptable. Even Donald J. Trump hisowngoddamself knows that in every transaction there is a winner and a loser, and there isn't a CEO in the US who hasn't read The Art of the Deal. Par for the course for any CEO: raid the assets of small businesses. They don't have the crippling debt the corporations have, so the corporations can seize those assets, borrow even more money against them, and leave the small business a hollowed out carcass suitable for making footballs.

They'll come to you hat in hand, first, offering you the world if you'd only just sell for an obscenely low, insulting figure. Naturally you decline. So now it's a hostile takeover, and your lawyer will never be good enough to fight their army of lawyers. Before you know it, you no longer have a business, big or small. And no crime has been committed. No one is going to prison for this unless you flip out and murder some executive who probably has it coming. Not that such an argument would hold up in court.

All of these corporations are running on the fumes of consuming smaller businesses, never realizing for an instant that they will one day hit critical mass. There will be just one business that owns everything. Odd that they're angling for a Communist world through Capitalism. But all the same, when there are no more businesses to conquer, Alexander the CEO won't just weep. He'll eat himself starting at the feet.

It suddenly occurred to me that I don't really know if footballs are made of pigskins. Turns out, in the early days of football they were made out of, not pigskin, but pig bladder. Which is definitely not a skin, but it's a whole lot better to say "let's throw around the pigskin" than "let's throw around the pigsbladder."

Although it comes down to the same thing in the end. The corporations *are* killing small businesses. That's some free market we have, there. Kinda like putting mobsters in charge of enforcing the law.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #947: GWAR

 

I've been listening to GWAR since high school. I've been with them even through Carnival of Chaos, but I dropped off after Battle Maximus. For reasons. Not too long ago I decided to put together a GWAR playlist. Fuck it. Let's throw the new shit on there, see if it's any good. I was not hopeful, but what the hell?

I try not to bail on a band when they get a new singer. I stuck with Alice in Chains, and they're still putting out good songs, more or less. Not the same as with Layne Staley, but Jerry Cantrell is still there rocking out. But sometimes it's a dealbreaker. If your singer, Bon Scott, died on you, and you thought to hire Brian Johnson, that was a good call. That worked. Now Brian Johnson left and you got an aged Axl Rose to replace him, that's a different story. Were Stone Temple Pilots better with Scott Weiland or without? A more appropriate question: who do you remember more fondly, Stone Temple Pilots or Talk Show? Come to think of it, they had two singers die on them, the other being Chester Bennington for that brief period where he was touring with them. Is Dave Coutts still alive?

So. How does the new GWAR measure up?

It doesn't. Not by a longshot.

It still sounds like GWAR except when the singer is singing. He has one thing he does really well, so he never strays from it. There is no nuance to him. No playfulness. Jokes tend to fall flat. There is no creativity in their profanity and descriptions of bloody violence and sex. The band I remember was a real person, but now they're a pod person. They seem the same, but something is off.

And it's very obvious what is off.

Dave Brockie used to say that he imagined GWAR as a band that could go on forever like KISS. It doesn't matter who is under the masks/paint. He seems to have been right about every member of GWAR . . . except for himself.

By the way, if you didn't know he wrote a book, you should check out Whargoul. It's the most aggressively passive book I've ever read. It's great.

Also, GWAR has been on Fox News a lot. What's up with that? Not sure I want to actually watch the videos to find out. Can anyone summarize?

One last thing. I didn't often listen to This Toilet Earth. It wasn't as good as the others. But I'd completely forgotten about this gem.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #946: THIS! VERY! DAY!

 Today has been a very unusual day for me. I've felt off in everything I did except, oddly, my job. That went pretty well. It almost always does on a Monday, and I kicked ass on that front. But my brain, which runs super fast despite my desire for it to go much, much slower, kept hitting speed bumps today. I'm kind of surprised it didn't derail my day.

And almost all of this stuff is speech. I have a script in my head for every occasion. Except I kept getting hung up on words that I knew backwards, forwards, maybe not inside out but what the hell why not? I lost confidence in the things I was saying, which is a huge mistake if you're in sales.

And then there was this nearly overwhelming sensation that I'm going deaf. You know how when it gets dead silent you can actually hear how deafeningly loud silence is? I've been getting that today. I ran a finger through each ear, and there's no blockage. I just did a deep cleaning not too long ago (a necessary thing, as my body produces an insane amount of ear wax). My ears *do* feel kind of numb, though.

Or maybe I'm finally cracking. I've had a crack up in the works, anyway. Might as well get it over with, preferably without the psych ward this time. Would it be better to pretend to lose my mind for a little while than to wait for it to happen naturally? It would probably be waaaaaaay worse the latter way.

It would be nice to wake up without any fucking pain or problems. Just once.

All right, Tuesday. The golfball is in your garden hose. Let's get to work on the best possible results . . .

Oh! Also, today is the 39th anniversary of me writing my first story. Mom made me sign and date it so I'd always know. I thought that was weird at the time, but I'm now glad I did. Although I'm not sure why she told me to do that. Did she somehow know even back then? Or is this something all moms do, and if their kid turns out to be a writer, hey, that's a gamble that pays off? Holy shit, is that why I liked dinosaurs so much? She was trying to push me into paleontology?!?!?!?!!?! What other seeds did she plant?!?!?!?! Dark Shadows?!?!?!?! SHE PUT THAT THERE, T . . . well, actually, I really enjoyed Dark Shadows. I've seen all things Dark Shadows EXCEPT for the Tim Burton movie, which I shall never see.

Wow. Look at this mess. This is kinda what Goodnight, Fuckers looked like back when I was writing these things in a blacked out drunken state. I swear I didn't drink any booze! Why? Do you got some?

Ahhhhhhhhh. I swear I meant to write about something here tonight. I think I'm finally bored with my own misery. Has that finally happened? Have I lived long enough to witness this day? This? Very? Day?

That's heavy, Doc.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #945: JOURNAL ENTRY

 What follows is a journal entry from a few days ago, back when I was feeling miserable and was tempted to drink. I don't usually write in my journal anymore, as I cover most things here in GF. Unless I'm stressed the fuck out, and I was stressed the fuck out. I thought it would be a good GF column, so I'm typing it up here.

I came up with a fourth option which was so obvious that I felt stupid for not thinking of it earlier, especially since this thing isn't going to cost me the same as last time. It's going to cost me 1/3 of that price. It's still money I don't have, but I felt comfortable enough asking someone to loan me the money. See how stupid I was? Anyway, here's the entry. Enjoy? I guess?

So it has come to my attention that one of my battles that I *thought* I had won is not over. [Slightly revised for anonymity.] And I need money to put a stake through its heart. Money I don't have.

I spent the last of my savings thinking this fucking problem was finally off my plate, and much to my horror it is not. I have three options, and they all suck.

I can ignore it until the City fines me into the ground and gain the enmity of my neighbors. Added bonus: if I do this I will eventually be kicked out of the house I live in but don't own or even rent.

I can do one thing that can get me some money, but I'll never be able to retire, as I don't think I could ever pay it back.

Or I can do another thing that will get me a lot of money, but my brothers would have to cremate me when I die, and I'd rather be buried. Again, I don't see how I could pay back this money.

This doesn't even take into account the hole in my foot, which I'm sure will eventually cost me said foot. I don't have enough space to list the litany of my woes.

So yeah. I've been feeling the need for booze. So far I've been able to deny it, but if this shit keeps up, I am so fucking fucked. The worst part is, I would have had the money if I didn't go to St. Louis, so I feel extra stupid over this. I thought I'd taken everything into account back then. I considered problems that might come up and thought that the gamble would be worth it even if I lost. I didn't count on this. 

If only I'd died at 40 like I'd expected.

Yeah, all that seems pretty hopeless. Good thing I was able to pull myself out of the nosedive. Things aren't dire yet, but that's still on the menu in the near future. The good news is, for the first time in months, I got a full paycheck at work today. Unfortunately all of it has to go towards bills I've been putting off including the biggest bastard bill I have, my car loan payments. I desperately need to get this car paid for. That way I could win back $600 a month and not be so royally fucked. I'm pretty sure I can't afford weed or food for the next couple of weeks. I have enough of the former (more or less), but the latter might call for desperate times, measures, etc.

I just need to not get sick again. Please don't let me get sick again. Not only will that fuck me up beyond all expectations (especially the lowest), but I could also rip a new hole in my esophagus, one that I'll need a mesh inside of me for. And a feeding tube in my stomach.

Honestly? Considering my Year of Shit (TM)? That would be par for the course.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #944: REAL GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS

 That was fucking intense, but it had to be done. There were no sane responses for what happened last week, so I picked an insane response. I saw myself writing a bunch of Evil Goodnight Fuckers, but I realized rather quickly why that wouldn't work. The best way to describe it is . . . well. OK, I thought I'd take the fight to the enemy and get a Truth Social account. I would then satirize the rich bastards to their faces. Or "faces," I suppose. I wanted to see if admin would eventually step in and ban me. But then people started saying insipid things like, "Your body, my choice." I knew in that moment that everyone over there is most likely to agree with the crazy shit I was going to say. If I said, "Hooray! King Trump says kill the poor! Let's set up camps!" I wouldn't feel good about getting similar declarations from the snake pit, all of them decidedly *not* satire. There may be no way to satrize these fucks.

Where do we go from here? I'm sure we must either kiss the ring of feel the boot on our throats. Or nothing will happen. A lot of Republicans turned on the Trumpster. Hell, the Senate already dismissed his suggestion for Senate Majority Leader. It's possible they'll still be around to stymie him. Make no mistake, the only people in any position to make a difference right now are the Republicans who can't stand him. One of the things currently exciting me is the fact that Trump's own team, not the Republicans I was just talking about, are annoyed with Elon Musk and want him to get the fuck out.

Does any of this even matter? The precious economy is soaring. Gas prices are down. This is all due to Trump getting elected. But things might be different on January 20th. If he actually does live up to his campaign promises, the economy would have no choice but to tank. Sure, the tariffs will ensure that merchants buy American, but that's about a pubic hair's width away from being Communism. But Americans *do* love choice. I wonder how the oligarchs will feel about importing a Lamborghini and having to pay tariffs out the ass for it. Or will they once again be exempt from the rules? The funny thing, though, is American companies who manufacture overseas, like Lincoln cars, will still have to pay the tariff to import their own products. Ain't that a kick in the ass?

American economics are about to get bent over, and as someone who despises American economics, I'm here for it. Typically I'd make a comment about how I'd love to see Trump flounder with this problem, but he never flounders. People let him get away with EVERYTHING. And he knows it. I'll bet he really could shoot a man on Fifth Avenue in NYC and get away with it, especially if that man is Joe Biden. He could be caught in mid-rape on live television, and hey, it's just Donnie bein' Donnie, lol. The closest he's ever come to accountability is an assassin's bullet.

(Speaking of which, how is Kyle Gass doing? Hollywood Jables chose voicing cartoon characters over his friend and music partner for decades because of this shit weasel. (I'm regular John Bruni now. FUCK SHIT WEASELS!))

I'm tired. A lot of people are. To cope with it all, we might have to embrace the apocalypse . . .

EVIL GOODNIGHT FUCKERS #5: WE THE OLIGARCHS PART THREE

 

FIRST AMENDMENT

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof (IT'S FREEDOM *OF* RELIGION *NOT* FREEDOM FROM RELIGION LIBERAL SCUM!), or abridging the freedom of speech (possibly a mistake, fucking BLM douchebags . . .), or of the press (FAKE NEWS!), or the right of the people to peaceably assemble (did you get the operative word there, antifa?), and to petition the government for a redress of grievances. That last part is probably a whoopsie. You, the people, will do as you're told. There will be no so-called "redress of grievances." One of the Jameses, Madison or Munroe, I can never tell them apart, probably put that in there as a joke.

SECOND AMENDMENT

A well-regulated militia (or any asshole with a chip on his shoulder), being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed. NO INFRINGING! That means we should be handing guns to the sickly and the mentally ill (but we should probably still make sure the person we're handing them to is white). And we should all have machine guns and rocket launchers and, yes, even a nuke.(Not more than one of those. That would be . . . excessive even for us.) I should be able to get all of these things on sale at Walmart during Black Friday.

THIRD AMENDMENT

No soldier shall in time of peace be quartered in any house without the owner's consent, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law. Owners. Not renters. We're talking about oligarchs, yes? You, as the people, will yet again do as you're told. Wartime? Peacetime? We'll keep warriors for freedom in your hovel whether you like it or not. Why would you object? You're not a Commie, are you?

FOURTH AMENDMENT

The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers and effects, against any unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or Affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched and the persons or things to be seized. I feel this one's a mistake, too. If this is true, then all the cops who have murdered innocent Black men would be guilty of violating this Constitution. That can't be right, unless this is another whites-only amendment.

FIFTH AMENDMENT

Skip the text. This is the most important right after the 2nd Amendment. It means you have the right to not incriminate yourself. Also, if you kill someone and are found not guilty, even though you really did the crime, you can't be tried again. This is super important to have in your back pocket, especially when you're testifying before Congress. It also guarantees due process. Again, I think this only applies to white Americans.

SIXTH AMENDMENT

The right to a speedy and public trial. That's nice, but you don't want either of those things. Keep the public out of it if you can, and draw out the trial for as long as possible. This increases your chances of winning, and who knows? The other side might run out of money before finding you guilty! Remember, you are the oligarch. Not the sniveling people. You also have to know what you're being charged with and who is accusing you, which is a handicap for us. Do you realize how hard it is to try someone for a crime when they know what that crime is? It's a bureaucratic nightmare! Let's ditch this one. Wait, we also guarantee consul for these scumbags? Since when do criminals have rights?

SEVENTH AMENDMENT

If you're getting sued for more than twenty bucks, you have a right to a jury trial, but the results can't be reexamined by any other court. Seems shrewd.

EIGHTH AMENDMENT

Excessive bail and fines are bad. Which is a relief for us. We can afford those things. The people usually can't. Better that they should remain in jail until trial, anyway. Also, cruel and unusual punishment is forbidden. They can't possibly mean that. Every single one of our prisons is cruel and unusual. Shouldn't that kind of thing be mandatory? See above for my question regarding criminals and rights.

NINTH AMENDMENT

These rights are not the be-all, end-all rights of American citizens. This list of rights should not be interpreted as saying that any right not mentioned here is fair game. This is dangerous! The LGBTQ+ community could demand their rights using this amendment! Repeal! Or maybe we can go back in time and cut this part out before the second Constitution is signed. They had another amendment ready to go, so there would still be 10 of them in the Bill of Rights.

TENTH AMENDMENT

If the Constitution covers it, then it's federal. If not, then the states have to figure it out. I don't see abortion mentioned! So it's up to the states to ensure women must never have autonomous control over their bodies. That's their husbands' job. If she's unmarried, her father must control her. Or her brothers. Any male member of the family must step up. If there are none, just put her in prison. It's easier than trying to figure this one out.

ELEVENTH AMENDMENT

If the citizen in a case against the US is from another country, we won't handle it. Suck it, Frenchie! (Actually I don't know what this really means. Maybe the Frenchies are telling *us* to suck it?)

TWELFTH AMENDMENT

Electors send their voters to the seat of government to the President of the Senate (ie. the VP of the US), who will count ballots by hand. There's a lot of other stuff in here, but why go over it? We just witnessed our last election. Repeal!

THIRTEENTH AMENDMENT

Oof. Let's not talk about this one. Besides, it's a moot point. Soon we'll have slaves again, and America will be made great again!

FOURTEENTH AMENDMENT

SECTION 1: Were you born here or were naturalized? If yes to either one, then you're an American citizen! States can't make laws that violate this Constitution. Rich people only. Even the white poors are shit out of luck on this one.

SECTION 2: The number of Representatives is determined by the population of each state (not counting untaxed natives because fuck them). You have to be 21 years old to vote (which they sadly changed later; we should raise that age to 78). Also, you can't vote if you took part in rebellion (another post-Civil War amendment?) or if you've been charged with other crimes. Hm. Good thing no one knows about this. Did you see Trump brazenly voting on live television?

SECTION 3: If you took an oath of office and rebelled against the US anyway, you can't hold future office. What a harsh way of handling Confederate heroes! But with 2/3s of Congress that can change.

SECTION 4: The US public debt can never be questioned. How else can we spend unholy amounts of money on war--er, I mean, defense? We won't pay for anything incurred during insurrection, by the way.

SECTION 5: A useless section. A few of these amendments have such a section saying Congress has the ability to enforce this. Didn't you say earlier that they're the ones who make the laws? Why bring it up again? Several times? You high, bro?

FIFTEENTH AMENDMENT

The right to vote can't be denied or abridged. Fuck, we gotta stop clearing voter rolls? How else are we going to ensure that the lefties never get to vote? I'm not sure if we can rely on them making typos in the online forms. That's usually how we handle it. Does that mean that we have to acknowledge that it's possible for people to have the same name and birthdate? How are we going to hijack the republic? Oh right, we can ignore it. Good thing I remembered I'm a scumbag, myself.

SIXTEENTH AMENDMENT

Congress can tax citizens' income. Wait, so taxation is *not* theft? Are you sure?

SEVENTEENTH AMENDMENT

More boring Senate stuff. The governor of the state can temporarily fill vacancies until an election. Not even history professors will ask you about this one.

EIGHTEENTH AMENDMENT

The manufacture, sale and transport of booze is illegal. They said nothing about giving it as a gift. We just need to collect money for something else, that's all. Weird that Al Capone never figured that part out.

NINETEENTH AMENDMENT

Women get the right to vote. Yet they still vote men into office. Thank fuck!

TWENTIETH AMENDMENT

SECTION 1: The president must pass the torch on January 20 at noon. Representatives and Senators must do the same on January 3 at noon.

SECTION 2: Congress needs to meet on January 3, I assume for orientation?

SECTION 3: If the president dies before he can be sworn in, the veep takes over. Same if the president . . . doesn't qualify? Wait, so we can stop Trump from taking office? Better not let the libs find out about this. Can we redact this? I'll run a Sharpie across this part on the real Constitution. Also, if the veep doesn't qualify either, whatever that means, then Congress will figure it out.

SECTION 4: Congress will figure it out if there are no other options.

SECTION 5: This starts on October 15. I know you were really wondering about that.

TWENTY-FIRST AMENDMENT

The 18th Amendment is repealed! Yay! Except it's still illegal to deliver booze across state lines and other borders.

TWENTY-SECOND AMENDMENT

The president can't be elected more than twice. We sure learned our lesson from FDR! If you hold the office someone else was elected for for up to 2 years, you can still get elected twice. This doesn't apply to anyone in office at the time this amendment was proposed. Now that we have President-for-Life Trump, I'm sure we can dispense with this nonsense.

TWENTY-THIRD AMENDMENT

The seat of government determines electors. This is more bullshit meant to confuse the issue. Electors are important because if we became a democracy instead of pretending to be one like we do now, the peasants might elect someone who isn't bought and paid for by corporate interests. We must ensure that no one is elected who can destroy our precious system.

TWENTY-FOURTH AMENDMENT

Not paying taxes can't be used to prevent one from voting. No further evidence is needed to prove this country serves oligarchs, who pay zero taxes, and no one else. It's certainly not meant to benefit the poor! Nothing in this country is.

TWENTY-FIFTH AMENDMENT

SECTION 1: If the president dies or is removed, the veep takes over.

SECTION 2: If the veep dies or is removed, the president recommends a candidate for approval by Congress.

SECTION 3: If the president tells the President pro Tempore or the Speaker of the House that he can't continue his duties, the veep takes over.

SECTION 4: The veep can rat out the president if the president is incapable of performing his duties. I see you, JD Vance, you little shit weasel! Don't even think about it! (I apologize to shit weasels everywhere. It was not my intention to insult you. My apologies.) The president can be reinstated with a written declaration, and the veep and a majority of the executive branch must agree. The president has four (4) days to deny it. (Counting Sundays?) If Congress is not in session, they have 48 hours to be in session. They need 2/3s of the vote needed to deny the president's return.

TWENTY-SIXTH AMENDMENT

18 year olds can now vote. Bad idea. If they get sent to war and manage to come back home, they *won't* vote for the people who sent them there in the first place. Unacceptable.

TWENTY-SEVENTH AMENDMENT

This is a weird one. It was originally proposed at the first Convention as the original 11th Amendment. For some reason no one thought to bring it back for decades. It's about how much money Congress makes. Don't worry about it! Besides, considering the amount of graft they get up to, a dollar amount would be impossible to figure out!

TWENTY-EIGHTH AMENDMENT

Donald Jesus Trump is President-for-Life! And beyond. When his wretched and aged body finally gives out and he dies, we will worship him as a god if not the god. Okay, maybe I made this one up. But I'm sure it will come to pass soon.

This is the end of Evil Goodnight Fuckers. At long last. Our regularly scheduled programming returns tomorrow night.

EVIL GOODNIGHT FUCKERS #4: WE THE OLIGARCHS PART TWO

Glory be.

 

ARTICLE 3

SECTION 1: The Supreme Court. As opposed to all other courts, which the Constitution calls "inferior." Take that, you pisspoor local judges! I don't know what this part about "good Behavior" means, but it better not mean that our Justices can't commit crimes like accepting bribes. Without bribing them, our whole economy would collapse! And women would be free to get abortions! Get on that, Kavanaugh. I thought you were onboard with this kind of thing..

SECTION 2: This part is pretty boring. It lists the kinds of cases the Supreme Court can take. Listen, just do what we tell you to do. Don't worry about if it's legal or not. Just let your eyes glaze over. Also, all crimes are by jury EXCEPT impeachment, and they should be prosecuted in the state in which the crime occurred. Which is good news! Us Trumpsters are only committing crimes of the heart. Good luck finding a courtroom in my circulatory system! Oh wait. This says if there is no state in question, Congress gets to choose where the trial happens. Good thing we got the Senate! Now if only the House would fall in line . . .

SECTION 3: We can easily ignore this part. The definition of "treason" is about to change.

ARTICLE 4

SECTION 1: States get full "Faith and Credit." So go crazy, my dudes.

SECTION 2: Citizens of each state get the privileges of all states. Which means the definition of "citizen" is going to need to be changed, too. Also, if you're charged with a crime in one state and flee to another, the first state can demand you be returned, and the second state must comply. Which sucks. Why should Supreme Leader, who lived in New York and Florida, be subjected to Georgia laws? He's God's anointed. That's bullshit. Thankfully they added on the part that was used to justify returning slaves to their owners even if the slave was found in another state. That one came in pretty handy and will again soon, I'm sure.

SECTION 3: New states can be added to the Union. Thank fuck we were able to get Texas in. Those racist slavers helped get the Trumpster elected, after all. But for some reason the states can't be formed from land inside of an existing state without Congress's permission. Come on, guys. Do we really need a WEST Virginia? And what about Maine? It functioned perfectly when it was a part of Massachusetts! Also, Congress can make rules about federal territories. Like *that* needed to be said.

SECTION 4: This is where the United States declares itself to be a Republic, and that it will protect US citizens from invasion and domestic violence. There must be some kind of mistake. I'm not seeing the word "capitalism" here. Did they forget to mention that part? Similarly I don't see mention of "democracy," which is a relief. There are a lot of stupid people out there. We need Electors to make up for them.

ARTICLE 5

The Congress, whenever two thirds of both Houses shall deem it necessary, shall propose Amendments to this Constitution, or, on the Application of the Legislatures of two thirds of the several States, shall call a Convention for proposing Amendments, which, in either Case, shall be valid to all Intents and Purposes, as Part of this Constitution, when ratified by the Legislatures of three fourths of the several States, or by Conventions in three fourths thereof, as the one or the other Mode of Ratification may be proposed by the Congress; Provided that no Amendment which may be made prior to the Year One thousand eight hundred and eight shall in any Manner affect the first and fourth Clauses in the Ninth Section of the first Article; and that no State, without its Consent, shall be deprived of its equal Suffrage in the Senate.

[Regular John Bruni here. That's a direct quote of Article V. I'm not fucking with it. It's pretty important, actually. So memorize this. There will be a test later. To be continued in Goodnight, Fuckers #1000! OK, back to Evil John Bruni.]

ARTICLE 6

Thank fuck these are getting shorter. Anyway, all debts entered into before the signing of the Constitution will be honored under said Constitution. Nice try, freeloaders! It also says that this Constitution is the law of the land, so obey it. Also, everyone we just talked about have to swear an oath of office before assuming such jobs. Now we're talking! Oh wait, it also says that religious tests shall never be part of such oaths. But how are we going to make sure Christ stays in Christmas?

ARTICLE 7

We only have 9 out of 13 states agreeing to this Constitution. Good enough!

________________________________________________

sign your name and loyalty oath to Trump here

Yeah, yeah, there's more. I'm going to handle those pesky amendments tomorrow night.

EVIL GOODNIGHT FUCKERS #3: WE THE OLIGARCHS PART ONE

 

PREAMBLE

(that means introduction)

We the Oligarchs of the United States, in order to form a perfect Union ripe for the picking, establish Justice (for white landowning men only), insure domestic Trankwi . . . Trenqwill . . . fucking calm, provide eyewatering amounts of money for "defence," promote general Welfare and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves (and no one else) and our prosperity? No, that's not right. Uhhhhhhh our kids and our kids' kids and their, etc., do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

ARTICLE 1

SECTION 1: All legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives, all of which are owned by their corporate sponsors.

SECTION 2: The House of Representatives shall be composed of Members (evil tee-hee!) chosen every second year by the Oligarchs of the several States, and the Electors in each state shall have the Qualifications requisite, and the Electors in each State shall have the Qualifications requisite for Electors of the most numerous Branch of the State Legislature, ensuring that we only have to deal with the politicians we bought and paid for. To be a Representative, you must be 25 at least and have lived in the United States for at least seven years. You also have to live in the state you're running in, beyotch. Yeah, let's skip the old timey talk. No one wants to hear that shit. I don't even know what most of these words mean, anyway. So here's where we learn that the number of Representatives depends on the number of people in your state. And by people, I mean white people. You get one for every 30,000, so states can have different numbers, but they are all required to have at least one. If one of the Democrats get busted for raping a child at a pizza place, then we get to do a writ of election to fill that vacant seat (good riddance, scum!) You know, I don't feel so bad about those big words now. The Founding Fathers apparently thought "choose" was spelled "chuse." And they capitalize weird words. What a bunch'a maroons.

SECTION 3: Each state gets two senators. You gotta be 30 years old at least, lived in the country for nine and must live in the state you represent. Which sucks because who the hell wants to live in Georgia? You mean you can't be a senator for GA and live in the much more reasonable Delaware? When will the woke madness stop? The veep gets to be the president of the Senate, but the veep doesn't get a vote unless it's as a tiebreaker. The Senate also gets to replace the veep should the veep be promoted to President of the US or should the veep be missing. Also, they get to be in charge of impeachments. Where they fuck were they for Obama? Clinton? Biden? But we're all too familiar with this part. Unless you have a very short memory. It also says they can only remove the president from office and forbid that president from ever holding office again. Our boy Trump's got two of these suckers under his belt (the one his kids are so rightly familiar with), and he still got elected again! YEE-HAW!

SECTION 4: The States get to choose how to run their elections. I'm sure that will stop once we have King Trump ruling over us all. O glory day!

SECTION 5: Blah, blah, blah, more election rules and the keeping of minutes, etc. I'm sure we can get rid of this part, too.

SECTION 6: Congress gets paid from the Treasury. They're also exempt from being arrested except in cases of Treason, Felony and Breach of the Peace. Hey, wait a minute! Thank fuck they didn't mention the Executive in this one! Only the plebs in Congress have to deal with Treason, Felony and Breach of the Peace. Also, the Congresspuppets can't hold any other office but the one they were just elected for. This part also mentions "emoluments." It sounds dirty, but it's not. Oh well. No evil tee-hee for this one.

SECTION 7: All bills for collecting money from the peasants must start in the House. The bill must pass the House and then the Senate, but before it becomes Law, the President must see it and sign it. Or he can veto it if he's a dirty Commie. Thankfully we have a way to ignore such gestures: it must go back to the House, pass with two-thirds, do the same with the Senate, and then fuck the president and all he stands for. The president has 10 days (not counting Sundays) to sign or veto or it will become a law whether he likes it or not.

SECTION 8 (appropriately) gives Congress the right to tax the fuck out of the commoners, but never out of we the oligarchs. Never us. It then tells us what Congress can do with that money. This is where my eyes glaze over. Do you pay attention to the food that your food eats? Of course not. Why would you care about the money your money is spending? Just leave it up to us. We're smarter than you and better at everything.

SECTION 9: MEGO: MY EYES GLAZE OVER. Oh wait, there's that thing about Habeas Corpus! Never suspend it, my dude. Unless, of course, you're facing a rebellion or an invasion or like, say, in times of civil war? That Lincoln fella makes me laugh. Here's also where the rule about not having nobility in this country is. More to the point, no one who holds office may profit from royalty or bureaucrats, etc. Hm. This one's a little tough. King Trump really does have a nice ring, no? And does this mean he has to give up the Trump Media Group? He didn't do it last time, so I'm guessing we're still cool to ignore this part. Keep it on the books in case a tricksey Democrat gets elected.

SECTION 10: The States have to abide by those rules, too. Also, they can't make their own money. That's why you don't have to hit a bank every time you cross state lines. That would be annoying. Also, the States can't have military forces of their own. I think we can talk our way out of this one, though. Texas could probably do this. Texas could do anything. In Texas you're asked to leave your guns in the car if you're going to the bank. It's just a suggestion, not a requirement. You never know if you're going to need to shoot a bunch of illegals with an AR-15 even in such an august financial institution as a bank.

ARTICLE 2

SECTION 1: Here's a bunch of stuff that the People don't need to know. They will never need to know presidential details now that we have our President-for-Life Donald Jesus Trump. This is where the juicy details are, so I'm not obliged to share them with the public. Wanna know how the Electoral College works? Fuck you! That's how. To be president you must be 35 at least, have lived in the United States for 14 years and must be a natural born citizen. They shrewdly added the part about being a legal US citizen at the time of the signing of the Constitution, or the Founding Fathers would have never had the chance to run the country! It also give the rules for replacing a president for any reason, but we all know what JD Vance has in mind. Good luck, buddy, but you're not taking the big dog down anytime soon. You fuck couches. He fucks supermodels. This is also where the oath of loyalty is. Honestly, do we need that? He's the boss. C'mon, guys.

SECTION 2: The president is in charge of the armed forces as commander-in-chief. He also has the ability to issue pardons! It would help a lot of the January 6 rio--er, patriots! Provided that Trump will actually follow through. Spoiler alert: he never follows through. Those patriots are fucked. If you have any doubts, ask Rudy Giuliani about how quickly he got his money out of the former and soon-to-be president. (Hint: HE DIDN'T! And he was America's mayor . . .)

SECTION 3: The president is expected to give a state of the union address to Congress from time to time. But they never gave permission to televise it, the rat bastards.

SECTION 4: The president and the VP can only be removed from office for Treason, Bribery and other high crimes and misdemeanors. See? Nothing about felonies! Although we may want to ixnay on the easontray . . .

All right. That's enough bullshit for tonight. We'll continue this tomorrow.

EVIL GOODNIGHT FUCKERS #2: MY FIRST TIME

 I remember when Gramps took me to kill my first homeless guy. He put me in the family Impala, and when we got close to the city, he told me to make sure my door was locked and my window was up all the way. You didn't want *them* to be able to grab you. *They* would do all sorts of sick shit to a white child.

Gramps selected a guy sitting on the steps of a rundown house (I later learned the term for it was a "crackhouse"). I asked him if maybe we should get a homeless lady instead. That's the way Reagan talked it up on TV, and Reagan spoke for God more than anyone else. We could have fun with a homeless lady. I hadn't hit puberty yet, but I knew what to do. I watched a lot of our home movies. Those were the days when 8 mm was king! Fuck this Camcorder shit!

Gramps said no. We still needed women for the pregnancy farm Reagan had in Intercourse, PA. So he had me hide in the back seat with the garrote while he cruised the guy. "Hey!" Gramps said. "Wanna earn ten bucks?"

The guy didn't seem to understand. So Gramps . . .

Ah hell. I thought Evil Goodnight Fuckers would be funny satire, but this is kinda gross. It's gross, right? Never mind. I feel gross. My heart's not in it. I'm just going to stop doing this.

I think I've made my point, anyway. The fact is, whether America knows it or not, this is what it voted for when it put Trump into office (again). Even if he doesn't live up to a single one of those promises, they still voted him in for those reasons. He is, and always will be, the Pussy-Grabber-in-Chief.

To get the numbering of the regular column back to where it needs to be, I'm going to do three more EGFs next week. I'm not going to sink this low in any of them, though. I had an idea for a while about deconstructing [REDACTED] to show what it really means. That will be super long and crazy, but at least I won't be talking about Gramps murdering a homeless dude. That was pretty fucked up. You get what I'm going for. No more need be said on the subject.

All right. I'll see you next week. Or on Sunday if you also read Good Morning, Fuckers! (There will be no evil version of that, in case you were wondering.)(SPOILER)

In the meantime, I'd say to enjoy this, but it's still pretty fucking horrible when you think beyond the instant reaction and realize the horrors some people are about to face. Yes, I hate to link to Yahoo, but I hate to link to Buzzfeed worse. The sacrifices one must make for Evil Goodnight Fuckers . . .

EVIL GOODNIGHT FUCKERS #1: IF YOU CAN'T BEAT 'EM, JOIN 'EM

 

I'm tired of being miserable all the time, so I registered as a Republican today. Already my net worth has skyrocketed to $6.66 million! That's *way* better than 40 pieces of silver! Also, I'm now six-foot-nine (evil tee-hee!)! I have a fifteen inch cock! And I'm bulletproof! Just ask the cops who tried to stop me from shooting up that school! I only got fifty-seven kids, but seven of them were honors students! Gotta nip intellectualism in the bud, you know. Butt, I mean. Nip them in the butt. I forgot. When you sign up as a Trumpster you have to adopt malaprop . . . er, that's too smart, also. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh say the stupid version of a smart thing! I used to know a guy who was stellar at this kind of thing. He once said that the Amish make their own wood. Unsurprisingly, he's a fellow Trumpster! Anyway, I also got three teachers, but do they really count?

To ensure that history goes as God meant it to, I invented a time machine and went back to make sure I voted for Trump. It's like a star for a Sneetch's belly. The other Trumpsters won't accept you unless you took a picture of your ballot with Trump's name ticked off. And your wife's ballot. And any woman you're related to, even people as distant as third cousins. You don't want to run the risk of your property voting for . . . I already forgot her name. Doug Emhoff's wife.

Oh yeah, Kamala Harris! Did you know she actually won the election? But Elon Musk invented a time machine before I did! (Ignore the feeling of contradiction you're feeling right now. It's damned unAmerican.) Ain't he swell? Good to know that not only is God on America's side, so is science! And we're not talking about that Darwin gibberish. That's too science-y for us faithful.

Speaking of, did you know that once you vote for Trump, God descends from the heavens and tells you that you did the right thing? Those Trumpsters were telling the truth the whole time! Wow! Too bad we didn't listen, yeah? If we did, we'd have gotten a head start on killing the poor!

Don't look at me like that. We're not killing *all* the poor. We'll need to keep a few for slavery. God said it was OK. I'd advise you to read the Bible, but as a newly minted Freedom Fighter (TM, so Master gets his fair share) I have to forsake books. Sorry. They were holding me back all this time! All it ever did was make me smart, and that's just about as useful as tits on a boar.

It's OK. I can say that now. Sexism is part of the game. And, I might as well admit it now, racism comes with the deal. I don't make the rules, but I'll have to be a lot harder on the lesser races. That, too, is in the Bible. You know what? Forget it. I'll find a priest to tell you what the Bible says. You shouldn't be looking at books, anyway. Might give you ideas.

Goodnight, Fuckers is under new management. Have a blessed day!

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #943: GOOD LUCK

 

So much for Kamala Harris. And now we're stuck with President Clown for four years. Except clowns aren't usually responsible for crimes against humanity. I mean, it happens, but not normally.

Time to move on. Don't worry. The United States won't end until the oligarchs have sucked every last penny out of us, no matter who is president. We still have time.

First, shall we dispense with the illusion that voting is our only tool? It's a tool, all right, but not ours. It belongs to the oligarchs to ensure they stay in power. Do you doubt me? Have you ever wondered why the Electoral College exists in a so-called democracy? Nothing will work in this country until we recognize the truth of this. Am I full of shit? Possibly. But you need to ask yourself if you're happy. Answer honestly. And think about it. Don't knee-jerk off. If you're anything like me, you are never happy. I'm sure I was once upon a time, but it was probably so long ago that I've forgotten what it's like. Happiness, by the way, isn't merely being in a good mood. Happiness is satisfaction. Contentment.

Are you satisfied with the way the government runs your life? And make no mistake, it does. For more evidence of this, pick any Goodnight, Fuckers article at random, and you'll probably find it. Fuck it, I'm just going to say it. The US government is my beat, and I'm a relentless muckracker. But to get back to the question, I'd imagine you're not. That's why Trump won. So many people were angry and dissatisfied over their government that they elected a butt-fucker of epic proportions, thinking he would make them happy, never realizing that he doesn't give a shit about them. Never has, never will. The only thing the Trumpster is concerned with is his own well-being. He doesn't give a fuck about his own family. Look at Don Jr. and Eric. They're so desperate for his approval they'd stump at a Wendy's in Carbondale for him. My only solace is that they will both die without said approval from daddy. There is, however, one group of people that are tickled pink: the oligarchs.

Look on the bright side. At least we averted a civil war.

So what's next? #1 with a bullet (grazing the presidential ear?) is on Biden. He should do what he should have done a long time ago. He must issue an Executive Order regarding Roe v Wade. That will at least temporarily restore the right to abortion. The reason he didn't do this earlier was because he was running for reelection. He wouldn't be able to reach the right if he did that. Now he has no reason *not* to do this. Unless, of course, he's been in bed with Donald Trump this whole time. It wouldn't surprise me. They were both bought and paid for by the oligarchs, so they're brothers (or maybe half-brothers? stepbrothers?) in fucking the People over.

This Executive Order would buy us time to do what many states have done: add the right to abortion to the Constitution. I'm sure the amendment would not pass the House, but it has to be tried. Either that or we can piss directly into the face of every woman in the country. The United States usually goes with the latter, but we have to try.

The next step is, mmm, morally questionable, so I won't mention it here. I don't necessarily like it, but it might be the only option.

Then Biden has to make Trump's job as difficult as possible. Start planning roadblocks for him now. Maybe play a few pranks on him, too. Super Glue a quarter to the bottom of the Oval Office desk drawer. That should keep him busy for the next four years.

There is one drastic thing we could do, but we'd have to trick Congress into biting the hand that feeds, and how likely is that? The biggest reason to have a seat in the legislature is because of the opportunities to commit eye-watering amounts of graft. There is literally no other reason to have the job.

(What about making a difference? you ask. What about it? Perhaps you're confusing us with, say, Europe. The US is in business, not legislation. If we can't make a buck off it, it's useless.)

There's not much else to say. It was nice knowing the Ukraine. I feel certain that Trump honestly doesn't care about the Middle East. Someone will probably have to convince him to do something, that thing being honoring the Israel treaty. Considering the current situation there, I don't think we'll see an end to the violence any time soon. Besides, there's money to be made in slaughtering Palestinians. It's all in good fun. The Bible says we should kill them, and who are we to doubt the Bible?

Will the trains run on time? Everyone seems to agree that Trump's Day One Mass Deportation (TM) is impossible because of all the resources needed to enact it. This assumes, naturally, that he plans to let those immigrants live. I doubt he'd do anything, though. Where would the US be without the near slave labor of foreigners? Americans require minimum wage at the very least, and we know how our corporate overlords balk at that. So no. To save the economy there will be no deportation, mass or otherwise. As such, the trains, not needing to go to concentration camps, will not run on time.

Putin? Putin is happy as a clam. And I do mean that he's satisfied. Content. I wonder how our corporate overlords will deal with him. He doesn't play well with others, and I don't think they'll like taking orders from him even by proxy (ie. the Trumpster).

Take a deep breath.

Let it out.

Scream if you need to. Repeat if necessary.

Hold on tight. It's going to be rough.

I just wanted to tell you both good luck. We're all counting on you.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #942: OH FUCK

Oh fuck. Things aren't looking great right now. I'm going to bed. Here's to hoping tomorrow morning has better news for the United States.

SOMETHING TO CONSIDER by John Bruni NOW AVAILABLE!

 

Check it out here!

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #941: THE DUKE OF MAMMON

 

Tomorrow is Weasel Stomping Day, so this is my last chance to shit-talk Donald Trump as a presidential candidate, at least until he returns in four years to make our lives a living hell again. If you are still somehow on the fence about this guy, it is my intention tonight to try to get you to vote for someone else. Anyone else. Is Ross Perot running again? Vote for him.*

Back when I was in college JFK, Jr., created a magazine called George, named after the first president of our nation (as opposed to the King we fought a revolution against?). His intention was to explore where politics and pop culture meet. It was an interesting idea at the time, so I subscribed. It turned out to be a very uninteresting magazine, though, so I let the subscription lapse after a year. I think it would have been a lot more interesting today, in a world where politics and pop culture are inextricably linked to one another.

As you may know I've been cleaning out my house since my grandma's death, expecting to be kicked out at any moment by the bank who now owns it. So I've been exploring a lot, and I found my old issues of George. (Not, sadly, the one the MAGA douchebags point to as evidence that JFK, Jr., was supposed to come back and be Trump's running mate. I think that one, worth thousands (as opposed to this one, worth hundreds), was a couple of months before my subscription started.) One of them stood out from the rest of them: the issue pictured above.

(Please note, in the bottom left-hand corner, these words: THE TRUMPSTER. I'm pretty sure it was the editor who came up with that idiotic nonsense. If you're too young, there was an inexplicable time in our history when adding -ster to anything was cool. It was not actually cool. It was incredibly stupid at the time, so I'm going to take to calling him the Trumpster until he dies.)

As we were living under the threat of another Trumpster Administration at the time (and still are, at least until tomorrow) I thought it would be an important article to read. It was most illuminating. I'm not going to say much myself in this, just some commentary here and there. These are pictures I took of the article at various times. There's also a bonus section at the bottom for the unfortunately named "First Babes."

Let's start off with why I've called this column such:

This portrait of the Trumpster hangs in Mar-a-Lago, a chintzy Florida property he bought up way-back-when and covered with the cheap gilt shit he puts on everything. He bragged about putting a million down to buy it, but we know what his brags are really about. If you don't, you will shortly. But just for a second, let's pretend that the Trumpster (which nearly rhymes with "Dumpster," by the way, very apropos considering his recent jaunt in a garbage truck) was a normal person. Like a dude who lived down the street from you. Could you imagine going into such a neighbor's house and being confronted with this gaudy painting of himself? Could you take him seriously? I certainly couldn't. But the Trumpster was Not Serious when all this started. More on that in a moment.

This article was published in 2000, back when he was running for president the second time. I don't have much info about that first time (you'll see that little bit of info in a moment), but this time a reporter was smart enough to ask him why he was running.

The Trumpster, not being all that bright, told him the truth. (Or, as Gore Vidal would say, he "gave away the game.")

Wait, he was running for president as a PROMOTIONAL TOOL?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! So then . . . what about that first time he ran?

OK, let's stop for a moment. He ran for president the first time to bring visibility to his book? HE RAN FOR PRESIDENT AS A BOOK PROMOTION?!?!?!?!?! That son of a--wait a minute. That sounds kind of familiar. OK, yeah, I ran for president as a book promotion once. I, uh, don't have a lot of shade to throw on that one, I guess.

The first argument against this is, the Trumpster already has a lot of money. Why would he need to get more? Boy, do I have news for you about our corporate overlords! But here's a few thoughts on the Trumpster's personal worth as "presidential material":

That's not bad. Not bad at all. That's definitely worth telling a few lies over.

The Trumpster ran again between then and 2016, much with the same result: bowing out of the race with the ability to rent condos worth millions instead of hundreds of thousands. But 2016 changed everything. Do you remember how he conducted himself back then? There was no way that dude was serious. Even in 2000 everyone knew he was not a serious contender.

What went wrong in 2016? To ensure that he was not going to get elected, he said just about anything and everything he could imagine that would turn people off. My theory is, he didn't count on how many pieces of shit we have in this country who want a racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic (except Russia and Germany (specifically Nazi Germany)) garbage man as their Commander-in-Chief. He was not pleased when he won the White House. Perhaps these passages from George are the explanation as to why. And if you doubt his rage upon becoming the most powerful man in the world, here are a couple of quotes. The first is from author Mary Jordan, Melania Trumpster's biographer.

“The election night win came as a surprise even to Trump, according to many on his campaign, and little preparation had been done for what came next. Trump had even talked about going to one of his golf courses in Scotland immediately after the election so he didn’t have to watch Hillary Clinton bask in her success. One campaign aide recalled that candidate Trump had ‘told the pilot [of his private jet], ‘Fuel up the plane.’ “

Or how about this from author Michael Wolff? ("Their" being the Trumpster campaign.)

Their unexpected adventure would soon be over. Not only would Trump not be president, almost everyone in the campaign agreed, he should probably not be. Conveniently, the former conviction meant nobody had to deal with the latter issue.

As the campaign came to an end, Trump himself was sanguine. His ultimate goal, after all, had never been to win. “I can be the most famous man in the world,” he had told his aide Sam Nunberg at the outset of the race. His longtime friend Roger Ailes, the former head of Fox News, liked to say that if you want a career in television, first run for president. Now Trump, encouraged by Ailes, was floating rumors about a Trump network. It was a great future. He would come out of this campaign, Trump assured Ailes, with a far more powerful brand and untold opportunities.

“This is bigger than I ever dreamed of,” he told Ailes a week before the election. “I don’t think about losing, because it isn’t losing. We’ve totally won.”

That's pretty tasty, but here's the best part of Wolff's assessment:

Shortly after 8 p.m. on Election Night, when the unexpected trend — Trump might actually win — seemed confirmed, Don Jr. told a friend that his father, or DJT, as he calls him, looked as if he had seen a ghost. Melania was in tears — and not of joy.

There was, in the space of little more than an hour, in Steve Bannon’s not unamused observation, a befuddled Trump morphing into a disbelieving Trump and then into a horrified Trump. But still to come was the final transformation: Suddenly, Donald Trump became a man who believed that he deserved to be, and was wholly capable of being, the president of the United States.

Let's pause a minute to contemplate the fact that Don Jr. calls his dad DJT. Seriously. DJT? Your dad? It makes me wonder what Donald called Fred Christ the First. A few funny things occur to me, but in all reality Fred strikes me as the kind of dad who would accept nothing less than "sir" from any of his children.

The whole article is a great read. It's part of Wolff's bigger book on the topic. But tomorrow's Weasel Stomping Day. Treat yourself.

So the Trumpster accidentally became President. I'm pretty sure it was at that point when the privilege we witnessed during Fred C. Trump III's discussion of his uncle manifested. Suddenly the Trumpster was not just the US President; God had meant to put him there. He was now on a mission from God. And that's what all this nonsense he's spewing now in 2024 is about. He recognizes that garbage talk got him into the White House, and now he's hoping it will do the same again.

(It just now occurs to me that I said I wasn't going to say much, that I would only add commentary here and there. Whoops!)

But George isn't done. While the author of the article points out all these insanities in the Trumpster's character, he also makes it clear that he admires said Trumpster for it. It is his opinion that the Trumpster is America. The 2016 election results seem to bear that out.

Lest ye forget, the Trumpster is never as rich as he says he is. Even his 2016 campaign made comments about how cheap he was being with his own money. Why should Americans invest in the Trumpster (who is really America)?

Thankfully I'm not the only one out there telling you how much of a shit person the Trumpster is. Note to self: Find and read The Lost Tycoon.

Because Blogger is being a piece of shit right now and won't let me continue with the next picture without fucking the rest of my formatting, I need to put this line here. Continue please.

How can anyone vote for this dipshit with a straight face? He has flat-out told everyone he's a conman. But the Trumpster has learned Samuel Johnson's lesson well: "Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel." At the end of the day, there is no real justification for voting for this grifter. Are you really that far gone as a human being that you have to vote for a scarecrow stuffed with empty promises?

I'll let the article have the last thought on this. It's not meant to be a condemnation, but it can very well be taken as one.

ADDENDUM:

There's a sidebar to this article that's actually a two page spread called the "First Babes." It's a list of women the Trumpster has been with, along with weirdly distorted pictures of them. I'm not sure what the point of that was. I mean, I can guess. Let's impress everyone with all the hot chicks the Donald has fucked! But if so, why the distorted pictures? What this sidebar does instead, I think, is denigrate those women. Editorial sure didn't give much of a fuck about them beyond objectifying them. Here's a sampling with Melania saved for last.

A noble sentiment, to be sure, but, ah . . . well.

Does it surprise me that the Trumpster doesn't know anything about Black culture? Do I need to go over how ignorant he is of history again? But as far as Ivana goes, I couldn't check up on her. For obvious reasons. (There seems to be some evidence that Trump can't recognize his wives in pictures. To borrow a joke from Seth Meyers, is it possible that he's not cheating? That he thinks he's just sleeping with his wife when he's not?)

I find this one fairly disturbing, but not for the reasons you think. A lot of people give Melania a pass because of who she's married to. I don't . . . because of who she's married to. I have another picture regarding that, but I want to mention the part about her having broken up with the Trumpster between the interview for the article and the publication of the article. All the same, take a look at that magazine cover from the top again. Notice someone else in that picture? Here's the full image found inside the issue.

Isn't that a little weird? Creepy, even? That Melania had broken up with the Trumpster, and yet here is George still using that image as if to prove, hell yeah, hot chicks dig this guy! If I were Melania, I would have sued the magazine over this. But I don't feel too bad for her. You shouldn't, either. After all, who is she married to right now? Also, she knew exactly what she was getting into:

If you still think voting for this cumstain is going to make America great (again?) or is going to take back America (from whom?), you're out of your mind. As previously discussed in GF, America hasn't been great since 1950. Who didn't have many rights back then? Oh yes. Now it becomes clear. It's not a docile zoo elephant. It's one of Hannibal's war elephants. If you wanted to travel back to that shameful era of American history, why didn't you just build a time machine? It would be a lot easier . . .

*Ross Perot is dead?! Why didn't anyone tell me this?! Anyway, you should still vote for him.