If/When indicted, Donald Trump will make arrangements to surrender himself to be booked and have a photo taken, and he will arrive as scheduled. I am confident of that fact because he will not risk having his hair being cattywampus for the mug shot, and he knows two things: they will not allow him to wear a baseball cap, and it will definitely be made public. He will arrive bigly coifed, in a blue suit, red tie and American flag pin.
Trump is holding a rally in Waco for the same reason Ronald Reagan launched his “state’s rights” message in a 1980 speech in Philadelphia, Mississippi, where civil rights protestors were killed in the 1960s: because the dog whistle isn’t loud enough for them.
Seriously, GOP, he admitted to committing a crime. Isn’t it the perfect opportunity to rid your Party of him? Santos, I mean. (Jeez, there are so many that could apply to.)
Trump’s (sixth) A-Team of lawyers is getting blown out of the water by MSNBC anchors and other pundits, not to mention in court proceedings. If your lead litagator isn’t prepared for questions on air from Ari Meilber–who admittedly is no slouch as a lawyer, but he’s no Jack Smith–he’s going to get shredded in federal court. None of the scores of legal theories Trump’s lawyers are hitting with either the public or the courts.
MAGAts want you to believe a public statement Stormy Daniels made denying an affair with Trump, while the NDA was in effect, and a court filing by Michael Cohen’s lawyer claiming Cohen denied Trump’s financial malfeasance as a crime, are evidence of the falsity of their statements. Stormy was honoring the NDA; Cohen was trying unsuccessfully to stay out of prison. Face facts: they’re actually evidence that Trump is trying to cover up a crime.
Kid #1 is three minutes past curfew: “Oh, my God, is she dead? Kidnapped? In a car accident? Call the hospitals!” Kid #4 is half an hour late: “Meh. She’ll come home when she’s hungry.”
Jack Smith’s birth name is actually “John Smith,” a cosmic signal that in the United States, an everyman with the backing of the Constitution can rely on our laws to stop the aspirations of a wannabe dictator.
Person *so* hoping Donald goes to jail soon: Melania. As his wife, she gets all his money and the use of his properties without him. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one who called authorities about the classified documents: “Iz dis de FBI? I know where secret paperz are.”
May Florida alligators take root in the Patriot Moat the howling mad MAGA cultists plan to form around Mar-a-Lago to prevent Trump’s arrest.
When you realize the DeSantis/GOP/conservative attacks on LGBTQ people are simply the latest effort to make a minority population a target of hatred to stoke their base–and you realize this is the latest version of their cyclical anti-immigrant, anti-Black, anti-women crusades, you see how shallow conservative policies are.
In any batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies, there’s always the last one, likely without a chip, made of dough scrapped from the side of the bowl in a desperate attempt to get just one more.
Alec Baldwin should portray Evan Corcoran in the HBO version of this ordeal, if he’s not busy with other things. Like jail. Robert Vaughn would be a perfect Rudy Giuliani, and he’s been dead since 2016.
The timing of DeSantis’s oppressive crusades isn’t random. He passed laws about education topics that will likely be overturned in the Supreme Court (even this one), but by the time the case gets there, the campaign will be over. DeSantis will block people’s liberties and target private citizens to get into office; imagine what he’ll do to stay there.
I was never afraid to fly or to speak in front of a group, but I do have intense phobias about clowns and dentists. The latter came from a practitioner I went to as a child who had little concern about the patient’s pain; my dentist of the last 15+ years is very cognizant of that issue. The fear of the former came because they’re just fucking scary.
The Lauryn Hill and the Fugees version of “Killing Me Softly” is a rare example of a remake that surpasses the original hit song, a recognized in both composition and performance. The latter version honors and improves the classic Roberta Flack single.
Every region has their own secret “best” foods, even in this age of conglomerate food processing. Having grown up close to the snack food haven of York County, Pennsylvania–home of Utz, Snyder’s and others–I had forgotten how good Herr’s were. Growing up, the household favorite, though, was Gibble’s, made with premium lard.
Can’t say enough how proud I am of Mrs. Jack (of course, ‘cause I married way above my station) but also all of her peers in education. They don’t leave their job when they leave their classroom. Mrs. J. spent much of this week trying to help a student of hers–a refugee from a nation ravaged by multiple natural disaster and corruption who has only been in the US a couple of years–get financial documentation to qualify for scholarships at an Ivy League school she got into. Fuck Ron DeSantis: Teachers do way more for students than any Republican politician ever has, including being better role models for children on a day-to-day basis.
Two Black teenage girls solving a math mystery that stumped academics for two and a half millennium. When we’re talking about cutting support for Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion programs in education, that’s what I’m talkin’ about.
Ninety minutes to deadline, and I didn’t think I could do it. I love it when a plan comes together.
