Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: alexandria ocasio-cortez

A Partial Transcript Of The House Oversight Committee’s USPS Hearing, 4/24/20

VIRTUAL GAVEL NOISE!

“Okay, I call this hearing of the House Oversight Committee to order. Most of us are here via Zoom today, so I have to ask everyone to remember to mute their mics when they’re not speaking. Let’s not have a repeat of what happened at the weekly meeting.”

“Screw you, Chairwoman Maloney!”

“Settle down, Jordan.”

“I won’t be bullied! I won’t be accused of falsehoods and non-factorials!”

“We all heard you yelling at your kids. I’ll never forget it, quite frankly.”

“WE WERE REHEARSING A PLAY!”

“No one believes that. I’m moving forward. The Oversight Committee assembles today to question Mr. Louis DeJoy, Postmaster General of the United States. There have, recently, been troubling changes within the Postal Service leading to slowdowns in mail delivery. With the election coming up, and so many Americans voting via the mail, Congress has a clear interest in getting to the bottom of the problem. Thank you for joining us, Mr. DeJoy.”

“Thank you for having me, Chairwoman Maloney. I look forward to a frank and open exchange of views.”

“Oh, goody. The Chair recognizes Katie Porter.”

“Thank you, Madame Chairwoman. Mr. DeJoy, how much is a stamp?”

“You’re not even gonna say ‘Hi?'”

“Answer the question, please.”

“Very rude, young lady.”

“Mr. DeJoy, how much is a stamp?”

“I know how much a car costs. Ask me how much a car costs.”

“Do you know or not?”

“How do you quantify ‘knowing?’ It’s a riddle for the ages.”

“Last chance, sir. How much is a stamp?”

“Whatever the market will bear?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Basic economic theory sides with me, Congresslady.”

“Congressperson. Or Congresswoman.”

“Really? I had always heard ‘Congressady.’ It rolls off the tongue.”

“Mr. DeJoy, are you taking these hearings seriously?”

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

“There are also reports of massive slowdowns in mail service. It’s taking longer and longer for Americans to get and receive mail.”

“Yes. True. I blame the trucks.”

“What now?”

“The trucks. Have you seen them? They’re not aerodynamic, like, at all. Impossible to go fast in them. You bought us some Corvettes, we could get everybody their bills and pills a lot quicker.”

“The trucks are not the problem, sir.”

“They’re not the solution, either. The fire department gets cool trucks. Why can’t we have some?”

“Mr. DeJoy.”

“Shit, the cops have tanks.”

“Mr. DeJoy.”

“Buy us some tanks and I’ll fix the Post Office.”

“That is, quite simply, the least ethical, moral, or legal statement I have ever heard another human being utter.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

OLD-SCHOOL “SHOCKER” GIF POPPING UP ON EVERYONE’S SCREENS NOISE

“Who the hell did that?”

“I did, Madam Chair! Jimmy Jordan hacked democracy!”

“Knock it off!”

“Noob.”

“Shut up. It’s your turn to ask questions.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna ask ’em good. General DeJoy, good morning. Do I salute you?”

“I’m not a general general.”

“Do you outrank the Surgeon General?”

“Dunno.”

“Could you take him?”

“Physically?”

“Bingo.”

“Dunno. He’s a pretty big guy.”

“Man’s a heavyweight. Probably the most powerful Surgeon General we’ve ever had. C. Everett Koop wouldn’t have stood a chance against him.”

“Nosireebob.”

“Gosh, I like you. Generalissimo DeJoy, what kind of people mail stuff?”

“Mongrels, and those unworthy of love. The impure by birth. Suffragettes and rabble-rousers. Low people.”

“Yuck.”

“Yeah. Yuck people. And why deal with them? Shutting down the Post Office is a favor to those types. What’s in their mailboxes? Opiates and pamphlets about Bolshevism. They’ll thank us.”

“They will! They’ll thank us!”

“Yay!”

“Yay!”

“YAY!”

“YAAAAAAAY!”

VIRTUAL GAVEL NOISE!

“Cut it out! Stop it! Mr. Jordan, your time is up.”

“Your butt is up.”

“Nice, real nice. The Chair now recognizes–”

LIGHTING RIG DESCENDING NOISE

“–from New York’s Fightin’ 14th…the Bronx Brawler–”

SOCIALLY-DISTANCED FIREWORKS ERUPTING NOISE

“–the Queen of Queens…we have no choice but to stan…Alexandria Ocasio-COOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRteeeeeeezzzzzz!”

ELVIS’ THEME MUSIC PLAYING NOISE

“Thank you, Madam Chairwoman. Thank you very much. Mr. DeJoy, I have several questions.”

“Huh. That’s not gonna work for me. I’ve only got two answers, and one of them is ‘Dunno.'”

“Mr. DeJoy, we have heard disturbing reports of mail-sorting machines being removed from postal facilities, adversely affecting delivery time. Is this true?”

“Sure. You remove a sorting machine, everything takes longer. True as hell.”

“What I’m asking about is whether you have removed the machines.”

“Me? No. Those things are heavy, and I’m rich. I don’t lift stuff like that.”

“Did you give the order to do it?”

“Ohhhhh. I thought you meant, like, did I get a handtruck and wheel the machines out to the dumpster.”

“No.”

“Makes a lot more sense. That wouldn’t be an efficient use of the boss’ time.”

“Sir, did you order the removal of the sorting machines?”

“Yes. But I had very good reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Some mail-sorting machines–and this came as a shock to me, too–are haunted. Full of boojums and gobbledyhogs. You get more than one of those in a location and you’re looking at a full-out poltergeist situation. They will team up on you!”

“None of that is true.”

“Some are commies.”

“I’m sorry, did you just accuse mail-sorting machines of subscribing to a political philosophy?”

“I have a list! I have a list of mail-sorting machines with Communist sympathies!”

“May we see it?”

“I don’t have it on me.”

“Why were the machines removed, sir?”

“We didn’t ‘remove’ them. We took them outside. Imagine a a cocker spaniel spent its entire life inside a cramped government building. You’d want that cocker spaniel to go outside, wouldn’t you?”

“Not a great analogy.”

“I disagree. Best analogy ever.”

“Disgustedly, I yield my time.”

VIRTUAL GAVEL NOISE!

A Partial Transcript Of Mark Zuckerberg’s House Testimony, 10/23/19

GAVEL NOISE!

“Order. Order. Everybody simmer. HEY! SIT YOUR BOBO ASSES DOWN! I am not Steny Hoyer. Auntie Maxine will not abide by any foolishness from anyone in here. You best behave yourselves in my hearing. The Financial Services Committee welcomes the CEO of Facebook, Mr. Mark Zuckerberg.”

“Chairwoman Waters, I thank you for this opportunity to fly across the country and get yelled at.”

“Mr. Zuckerberg, the Presidential election is almost upon us, and you have done less than nothing to make sure that Facebook is not once again overrun with bad actors, foreign influences, and whatever the hell ‘bots’ are.”

“I disagree with that, ma’am.”

“How so?”

“We did do something.”

“What?”

“We monetized the bad actors.”

“Mr. Zuckerberg, you have a problem. Facebook is where most Americans get their news, and you have allowed it to become a cesspool. Is there any formal vetting of political advertisements on your platform?”

“Well, sure. The checks have to officially clear. We’re very formal when it comes to getting paid. We stand on ceremony there.”

“What you’re saying is that any organization that pays for space on your service can have it, regardless of its message?”

“No. We would not allow actionable calls to violence. Just suggestions that violence is justified against certain groups. Wait, no. The Rohingya. Sometimes we do allow direct calls to violence. But that was in Myanmar, so my lawyers have told me that it doesn’t count.”

“It most certainly does count.”

“I agree. Violence is bad.”

“Mm-hmm. I will yield my time. The Chair recognizes Bill Foster from the great state of Illinois.”

“Thank you, Chairwoman Waters. Mr. Zuckerberg, I would like to ask you some questions about Facebooks’s cryptocurrency program called Libra. Could you describe in plain terms what Libra is?”

“It is a plan to make money.”

“Facebook already makes billions of dollars a year.”

“No, I meant make money. Like, we’re gonna start printing our own currency. Not actually ‘printing.’ Everything’s gonna be digital, obviously.”

“Uh-huh. And who would keep this digital information?”

“I would. We. We would. Libra will make the consumers’ lives easier. Imagine a treasury, a national bank, the mall, and Twitter combined.”

“What you’re describing is a Phillip K. Dick novel. No one wants to live in one of his books. What kind of assurances can you give this committee about security when it comes to your cryptocurrency?”

“Oh, I can give assurances.”

“I assure you.”

“What technical steps have you taken to make your product safe?”

“It’s inherently a lot safer than so-called ‘real’ money. Can’t choke on it.”

“From hackers, Mr. Zuckerberg.”

“Stealing is bad.”

“We know that. How will you prevent people’s money from getting stolen?”

“What I find works for me is to have so much money that it can’t all be stolen at once. That would be my advice.”

“I yield my time in disgust back to the Chair.”

“Thank you, Congressman. This committee now recognizes the Honorable Gentleman from Florida, Bill Posey.”

“I do appreciate your recognition, Madame Chair. Mr. Zuckerberg, I am a man of science, but also a fierce champion of free speech. It worried me that Facebook saw fit to censor voices on one side of the vaccine debate.”

“There is no debate, Congressman.”

“Hold your horses, pal. I have done my research–almost all of it on your very site–and I know for a fact that vaccines are one of the leading killers of Americans today. You got smoking, then there’s suicide, and then vaccines. Higher than car crashes!”

“That is not true.”

“Many doctors, some of whom have been to my private home and met my private wife, agree that vaccines cause athleticism.”

“Autism.”

“That, too.”

“No, Congressman. Vaccines do not cause anything but long lives. And if they did cause athleticism, that’s a good thing.”

“Not for your feet. It burns!”

“I don’t understand where this line of questioning is going.”

“Will you or will you not commit to personally unvaccinating your children?”

“That’s not a thing. And, no.”

“You proved my case.”

“What case?”

“That vaccines introduce tiny Jewish goblins into the bloodstream.”

“Is his time almost up?”

“All our time is almost up! I’d rather get the flu than have Jewish goblins of any size in me!”

GAVEL NOISE!

“What the hell is wrong with you, boy? Quit your playing. The Chair takes the rest of your time back due to you not knowing how to act right, and awards it to the Distinguished Gentlewoman from Queens, Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez.”

FRAT BOY AND AN IDIOT BURSTING INTO THE ROOM NOISE

“This is a mutiny! We hereby place all Democrats in the room under citizen’s arrest!”

“LOUIE!”

“Congressman Gaetz! Congressman Gohmert! What are you doing? Get out of here!”

“All of this is phony and a sham, and the Constitution says that Puerto Rican ladies can’t be in Congress!”

“LOUIE!”

“Out! Out! Security!”

FRAT BOY AND AN IDIOT BEING WRESTLED OUT OF THE ROOM NOISE

“I will not have it, I will not put up with it. Next person in here that acts up is getting my size four up their ass. I’ll put it way up there, too. Test me, I dare you. Congresswoman Ocasio-Cortez?”

“Thank you, ma’am. Mr. Zuckerberg, I have some questions about your fact-checking department.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have one?”

“Not as such.”

“What does that mean?”

“We outsource our judgement about what is and isn’t a fact.”

“To whom?”

“We also crowdsource our judgement.”

“What does that mean?”

“Facebook believes that the average consumer is far more savvy than you Washington elites give them credit, and is easily capable of seeing through high-level disinformation campaigns.”

“Advertisers on Facebook are able to narrowcast their ads to very specific demographics. Could a political campaign that desired to suppress the African-American vote send ads to that community stating that the date of Election Day had been changed?”

“You can’t change Election Day. It’s in the Constitution.”

“Right. It would be a lie.”

“Lying is bad.”

“Sure is, slugger.”

“So I don’t think that would happen.”

“Multiple agencies in the Intelligence Community have determined that incidents like that did happen during the 2016 election. On your platform, Mr. Zuckerberg.”

“People are so disappointing sometimes.”

“What if a company wished to advertise a pill that it claimed cured cancer? Would you allow that ad?”

Did the pill cure cancer?”

“No.”

“Is the word ‘cure’ in quotations on the ad? Punctuation is the facial expression of language.”

“I have no idea what that means. Mr, Zuckerberg, could I run ads with a photoshopped picture of me hugging Republicans in tight districts? I’m the last person in the world any Republican wants to be see hugging. Probably piss off a couple of their voters. Could I do that?”

“Congresswoman, NBC ran ads for years telling the country that Bill Cosby was a trustworthy family man.”

“Not relevant.”

“I’ll give you five million dollars in cash if you yield your time back to the Chair.”

“Answer the question, Mr. Zuckerberg.”

“Photoshop is bad.”

“Forget the Photoshop. Could I run a text ad asserting that a Republican candidate had voted for my Green New Deal bill?”

“Did that even come up for a vote?”

“No! It’s all a lie.”

“Lying is bad.”

“I tell you what, Mr. Zuckerberg–”

“Please stop asking me things, please stop asking me things.”

“–I’m gonna change topics.”

“Can we talk about Roman History? I love Ancient Rome. It’s where I got the idea for my haircut.”

“Not Rome. Recently, you have had several dinners with far-right wackadoodles.”

“I disagree with your classification.”

“One of the participants was a Twitter user who goes by the name Big Chief Memosabe and posts doctored videos of President Trump teabagging his political opponents, myself included?”

“Congresswoman, I’m sorry you got teabagged.”

“And at these dinners you discussed their assertion that social media is biased against conservatives. Do you believe that social media is biased against conservatives, Mr. Zuckerberg?”

“I don’t know what my final opinion on that is, Congresswoman, but an outside panel we consulted with did agree that there was.”

“Who was the outside panel?”

“Well, Memosabe was on it. That guy’s on the ball about life.”

GAVEL NOISE!

“Okay, give it a rest, Congresswoman. The boy’s clearly a dullard. We’re gonna take a five-minute recess so I can do something about my corns.”

GAVEL NOISE!

A Partial Transcript Of Michael Cohen’s Testimony, 2/27/19

HOUSE CONFERENCE ROOM – MORNING

“Order. This hearing of the House Oversight Committee will come to order. Jordan, stop doing push-ups.”

“Getting my pump on, Representative Cummings!”

“Just sit down. Ms. Ocasio-Cortez, put your phone away.”

“But I’m dunking on a columnist from Reason magazine!”

“Put it away or I’ll take it! I am going to have order for this hearing. Also, the next person that confuses me with John Lewis is getting censured. I mean it. We are gathered here today in this august chamber for a serious matter. We will be hearing the testimony of Mr. Michael Cohen, former personal lawyer to President Trump, and I would like to personally extend a plea, to both Democrats and Republicans seated with me: Please let’s embarrass ourselves as little as possible. All right, let’s get this nightmare rolling. Good morning, Mr. Cohen.”

“Good morning, Chairman Cummings.”

“Son, you’re in about as much trouble as it’s possible for a rich white man to be in.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ve been disbarred and convicted of several felonies.

“Yes, sir.”

“Issued a sentence for committing some crime.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And bad mistakes?”

“I’ve made a few.”

“Mr. Cohen, would you say that you’ve had your share of sand kicked in your face?”

“OBJECTION! Mr. Chairman, you and this witness are merely reciting Queen lyrics.”

“They are relevant in this case, Mr. Jordan. This is my time. I won’t interrupt during your time. Mr. Cohen, when you last appeared before Congress, were you completely truthful?”

“No, sir. Not completely.”

“Mostly?”

“I cannot agree with that characterization, sir.”

“Partially truthful?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“How about ‘slightly?’ Please say that we can settle on ‘slightly.'”

“Sure, yeah, why not?”

“So. Your last testimony before this House was only slightly truthful, but this go-round you promise to tell the whole truth, etc. Why should we believe you?”

“I have receipts.”

“Spill the tea, child.”

“I have two checks from Mr. Trump, one made out from his charity, for $35,000 to reimburse me for paying off Stormy Daniels. I have a half-used tube of Why Orange You Tan? which is Mr. Trump’s preferred self-bronzing cream. I have a handful of Mr. Trump’s golf scoring cards that are nothing but fabrications. And, of course, I have ten years worth of boxes full of criminal activities.”

“And where are those boxes now, Mr. Cohen?”

“They are with the attorneys of the Southern District of New York.”

“So all you brought is the check and the tanning lotion?”

“Don’t forget the golf cards.”

“No, no. Very important. Mr. Cohen, I thank you for appearing here and warn you that Congress does not like being lied to. A second time.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The Chair recognizes the Ranking Member, the distinguished gentleman from Ohio, Mr. Jordan.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chairman. Mr. Cohen, you’re a slimy little piece of anus grease, aren’t you? Just a worm of a slug of a snail of a creep of a Communist of a man. You’re not even a man, you’re a male mammal. That’s all the gender status I grant you, Mikey. I wanna get you on the mat. I wanna get you in a singlet and on the mat. I’ll cauliflower your lying ears right up, you Five Towns trash.”

“You leave the Five Towns out of it!”

“I’ll kick your assapequa!”

“That’s not one of the Five Towns!”

GAVEL NOISE!

“Knock it off, the two of you. I’m making a motion that Long Island not be mentioned for the rest of the day. Passed by unanimous consent. Mr. Jordan?”

“I just think it’s sad–sad!–that we are wasting the American people’s time like this when there are caravans–caravans!–full of Mexicans and Ecuadorians and CHUDs infiltrating our borders every day. We got doctors doing post-birth abortions and CHUDs in Texas, but this Committee is gonna sit around talking to a convicted liar who went to school at a Taco Bell.”

“Cooley Law School is upstairs from the Taco Bell, sir.”

“Same building, though, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I stand by my comments. Mr. Cohen, how long did you work at the White House?”

“I did not work at the White House, Congressman.”

“Oh, that’s right. You didn’t. You wanted to soooooooo bad, but you didn’t get your foot in the door.”

“I never wanted to work there, sir.”

“You totally did. You wanted to work there so hard.”

“No, sir.”

“You gonna cry?”

“I am not–”

“Cry, bitch. Cry about it.”

“–going to cry.”

GAVEL NOISE!

“Knock it off, Jordan. Your time’s up, anyway. The Chair recognizes Ms. Pressley from the great state of Massachusetts.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cummings. Mr, Cohen, I’d like to discuss Mr. Trump’s racism.”

“Have I already talked about his thing with Burger King and the blacks?”

“Yes. Let’s not rehash the Burger King thing. Mr. Cohen: scale of one to ten, how racist is Donald Trump?”

“Solid seven with occasional gusts to eight.”

“On a scale of Mr. Rogers to Hitler.”

“Mel Gibson.”

“Oh, did Mr. Trump also hate the Jews?”

“No, only Buddy Hackett, and that was for a personal reason. Mainly hated the blacks, but he had quite a bit of vitriol left over for the Mexicans.”

“Does Mr. Trump believe–”

“All Latinos are Mexican to Mr. Trump.”

“–that all Latinos…yeah, I figured.”

“Oh, and don’t forget the Muslims. Terrified of shabooboo law.”

“Does he mean sharia law, sir?”

“One would assume so, but it’s impossible to truly know.”

“Thank you, Mr Cohen, but just to be cruel…did Mr. Trump ever tell you which of his sons he loves the least.”

“He did, and often.”

“Was it Don Junior?”

“It was.”

“Thank you. I yield my time.”

“The Chair thanks the distinguished lady-gentleman for her questions and recognizes my friend from North Carolina, Mr. Meadows.”

“Thank you kindly, Mr. Cummings, my great friend. You’re one of the good ones.”

“What now?”

“Mr. Cohen, I would like to talk about your untrue, scurrilous, and fictitatious lies about President Trump and his love for all people of this earth who aren’t Mexicans or CHUDs.”

“What’s with you guys and CHUDs?”

“I’ll ask the questions, Lie-chael Cohen. See what I did there?”

“Not very clever, sir.”

“More clever than you. I’m not a disbarred, disgraced liar. I’m not going to the booty zone. That’s what prison is, Mr. Cohen. Booty zone. They coming for your booty, man.”

“Was there a question, sir?”

“Yes, there is. You lied on President Trump just before when you called him racist. You LIED on that beautiful man. Ain’t no sunrise without President Trump, and the sunset asks permission, too. Children grow taller because he wills it. His dreams are our Mondays, man. Over there in that White House? That’s the Alpha and Omega right there, bubba. And he ain’t no racist. I want you to look at something I got here.

SOUTHERN WHISTLING NOISE

“C’mon down here, sugar. This here is Lynne Patton. She works at HUD, real high up. Got a government driver and everything. That’s class, man. Would President Trump allow such a thing if he was a racialist? Nah. Twirl around, hon.

UNQUALIFIED POLITICAL  APPOINTEE  TWIRLING NOISE

“Look at that. Solid stock right there. Good hips. Sturdy, a worker. Hold still, sugar.

LIPS BEING PULLED APART NOISE

“Full set of teeth on the girl. Real good quality. Who’s got the first bid?”

GAVEL NOISE!

“Mr. Meadows, knock it off!”

“What’d I do?”

“Just quit it. We’ll talk later. Your time is up. Ms. Patton, thank you. That’ll be all. Let’s just keep moving. The Chair recognizes Miss Tlaib from Michigan.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Decorum, Miss Tlaib!”

“Congressman Meadows just tried to auction off a black woman during a hearing! That’s maybe the most racist thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, now you did it.”

“HOW DAAAAAAARE YOU!? Racist? RACIST? Mark Meadows doesn’t have a racist bone in in his body! Or a hateful organ! And none of my tendons or ligaments see color! How dare you, young lady? Calling me racist is worse than calling a black person the n-word.”

“It’s not.”

“Like, a million times worse!”

“Nope.”

“I call on the Chair to punch Miss Tlaib dead in her face.”

“The Chair will not do that.”

“Then I call on Jesus to smite the Musselman!”

“Mark, settle down or I’m gonna kick your ass. Miss Tlaib, I’m taking your time away. You know how they get when you call them that. It’s just not productive. I’m going to get all of North Carolina out of the way at once here. Miss Foxx, you have the floor.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chairman. Mr. Cohen, can you promise this committee that you will not write a book about your experiences lying about the President?”

“No. I’ve had multiple offers for movie deals, actually.”

“And will you promise this committee that you will not accept those offers?”

“Oh, no. I almost certainly will.”

“Will you commit under oath not to appear on any television news channel?”

“Nope. I’ll do that if they hire me.”

“What about scripted? What if you were offered a part in a Dick Wolf show.”

“I would be an idiot to turn that down. Dick Wolf knows what he’s doing.”

“Promise us you won’t do Off-Broadway.”

“I cannot promise that.”

“Give me your commitment that you won’t wear a filthy Elmo suit and stand in Times Square pestering tourists.”

“Who knows what the future holds?”

“Okay, that’s enough, Miss Foxx. Your time is up. We have time for one more. The Chair recognizes the distinguished socialist from Queens, Ms. Ocasio-Cortez.”

CROWD GOING WILD NOISE

FLASHBULBS POPPING NOISE

DISCO BALL EMERGING FROM CEILING NOISE

“Hey! Hey! Knock all that shit off! I will bust some skulls! Ms. Ocasio-Cortez?”

“Thank you, Mr. Chairman. Mr Cohen, I’ll be brief: can you name the piece of paper that would be most damaging to the President for us to possess?”

“Sure. 2010 tax returns.”

“And who would be the most helpful person to speak to?”

“Alan Weisselberg, obviously.”

“Okay.”

“Matthew Calamari.”

“Is that really a person?”

“Tony Scungilli.”

“You’re making that up.”

“Sally Fried Zucchini.”

“No. That’s not real.”

“And Mr. Trump’s personal physician, a Dr. Vincent Boombatz.”

GAVEL NOISE!

“Okay, you know what? We’re calling it a day. Mr. Cohen, I think you’re a hero. I do. Not many men choose to change. That’s bravery, choosing to change. And you did choose to change very soon after being indicted on multiple counts. You plunged right into your new life the instant federal and state authorities forced you to, and I admire the heck out of you for it, Mr. Cohen. Who wants Italian food? Let’s go to Mario’s.”

GAVEL NOISE!

Key Points From The Green New Deal

  • Production of gasoline-powered cars to be phased out by 2035; gasoline-powered lawnmowers shortly thereafter, if possible.
  • If you have a pool, then all the poor people can come and swim in it because we’re all Commies now.
  • Everybody gets a job (It’s in there, I swear. Page 12, Section H. This, you will recall, is the plot of Calvin Klein’s movie, President Dave.)
  • Great apes, monkeys all the way down to lemurs, cephalopods, and the corvidae family of birds can now vote, even if they were felons.
  • Doctors and nurses are literally enslaved because that’s what socialized medicine is.
  • All Senators and Congressmembers have to take to the Floor and state out loud that Climate Change is real, and no one better bring any fucking snowballs or any of that wiseguy shit.
  • No-Meat Monday now enforceable by death.
  • Due to an unfortunate and entirely preventable addition from a disgruntled intern, the Green New Deal contains the following sentence: WHEREAS my butt should be zero-emission, Imma shove a cork in my asshole.
  • All citizens must begin production of steel in backyards.
  • Something something Indians.
  • Those really long limos with hot tubs in the back are illegal.
  • Billionaires’ wealth confiscated at the point of the people’s machete on, fittingly enough, the Night of the People’s Machete.
  • Choosing a baby’s gender is now a felony.
  • Only the following varieties of boat will be permitted: row, sail, paddle.
  • Colin Kaepernick made Secretary of State.
  • Investigating every possible method how to mitigate or perhaps reverse Climate Change, even weird nonsese like space-umbrellas or heroic science-testicles.
  • Immediate revocation of citizenship for the cancelled.
  • Put Harriet Tubman on the goddamned money already.

Go To Washington

In case you ain’t on Twitter and missed it…

OR

Ali?

“You can call me Congresswoman.”

Cool, cool. Just, um, stay away from Billy.

“Which one’s that?”

Mustache.

“He already grabbed my tit.”

Yeah, he does that. You should also probably avoid Phil because he’s hammered.

“Is he the one behind me?”

Yeah.

“Also grabbed my tit.”

Uh-huh. The Dead are a bunch of tit-grabbing motherfuckers.

“They’re just so hairy.”

That, too.