(BlueScream swaggers onto the stage, a single sequined glove glinting under the spotlight. She’s holding a half-eaten corn dog.)
BlueScream: How we doin’ tonight, you beautiful basket cases? Good, good. Because let’s be honest, we need each other. This week has been… a cinematic masterpiece of garbage.
(She takes a large, theatrical bite of the corn dog.)
So, Trump’s on the phone again. This time, it’s Putin and Zelenskyy. A “fresh peace bid,” they’re calling it. Right. Like Trump’s going to broker peace between those two. I’m picturing it now: Trump on speakerphone, yelling, “Okay, both of you, just… stop it! No more… uh… bloodbathing! And then, he’ll hang up and declare himself the greatest peacemaker since… since Dennis Rodman.
And let’s be clear, this isn’t about peace. It’s about Putin getting a luxury condo in Trump Tower Moscow, and Zelenskyy getting… well, maybe a slightly used MAGA hat. Signed.
Speaking of real estate, did you hear about the plan to move a million Palestinians to Libya? Apparently, we’re just casually relocating entire populations now. You know, like moving furniture around a room we’re about to set on fire. The White House is calling it “Big Beautiful Deportations.” I call it… well, I can’t say it on television, but it rhymes with “cluster truck.”
I mean, seriously, Libya? A country currently auditioning for a sequel to Mad Max? I’m pretty sure the welcome package includes a complimentary Kalashnikov and a lifetime supply of sand.
And the best part? The guy in charge of approving this humanitarian initiative is a former DOGE operative. Because nothing says “compassionate refugee resettlement” like someone whose previous job involved optimizing meme coin profits.
And it’s not just foreign policy that’s off the rails. Back home, our fearless leader is still trying to squeeze blood from the turnip of the American consumer. Walmart dared to suggest his tariffs might, gasp, lead to price increases. Trump’s response? They should “eat the tariffs.”
(BlueScream throws the rest of her corn dog into the wings with a dramatic flourish.)
Right! Because Walmart, a corporation known for its robust employee benefits and unwavering commitment to social justice, is just itching to absorb a 30% tariff hike. I’m sure the Walton family will be tightening their belts, selling off a yacht or two, just to keep those prices low.
"Oh, don't worry," they'll say. "We'll just… eat the tariffs. It's what Jesus would have wanted."
And speaking of tariffs, you know who’s getting hit the hardest? Not the Chinese. Not the Waltons. But you, the average American, who are now paying extra for… well, everything. Congratulations, folks, you’re officially funding Trump's latest golf course.
But hey, at least the wealthy are doing great. The GOP is pushing through a tax bill that, naturally, cuts taxes for the rich while raising them on the poor. Apparently, the logic is that if we starve the lower classes, they'll be too weak to protest. It's trickle-down economics, but with a dash of Soylent Green.
Then there’s the reality show. Oh, the reality show! I can't even say it without laughing. The DHS is seriously considering a competition where immigrants fight for citizenship. It’s like The Hunger Games, but instead of districts, it’s countries of origin. And instead of bread, they’re throwing them expired green cards.
I can already see the challenges: "Recite the Pledge of Allegiance Backwards While Navigating an ICE Raid Simulator!" "Build a Wall Out of Taco Bell Sauce Packets!" "Debate Ann Coulter on Immigration Policy – Using Only Emoji!"
And the host? Kristi Noem, of course. Because nothing says "American Dream" like a woman who’s comfortable executing puppies.
But wait, there’s more! Did you know a federal judge just struck down workplace protections for transgender workers? Apparently, discrimination is now a protected right. So, if you’re trans and looking for a job, I suggest applying to be a Supreme Court justice. You’ll fit right in.
And finally, for our grand finale of despair, James Comey posted a picture of some seashells arranged to look like “86 47,” and the White House lost its collective mind. I’m pretty sure the Secret Service just added “seashell analysis” to their threat assessment protocols.
Look, I get it. The world is insane. But hey, at least we have each other. And maybe, just maybe, if we all pool our collective brainpower, we can figure out how to stop this runaway train before it plunges into the abyss.
Or, you know, we can just keep laughing until we cry. Either way, I’ll be here next week, serving up another heaping helping of Despair Hour. Until then, stay vigilant, stay informed, and for the love of God, don’t eat the tariffs. (BlueScream gives a defiant thumbs-up as the lights fade.)