(RedStateRoast strides onto the stage, dressed in a shimmering gold lamé suit. He carries a small, very nervous-looking rubber chicken.)
Alright, alright, settle down, you beautiful, bewildered disaster capitalists! It's RedStateRoast, here to take you on a whirlwind tour of the American Experiment, which, at this point, is less a well-funded lab and more a guy duct-taping fireworks to a Roomba.
So, Senate’s back in session, huh? Apparently, they're trying to pass Trump's budget plan, which, I understand, includes a provision to replace all Congressional staff with trained capybaras. Look, I'm not saying capybaras wouldn't do a better job, but I'm pretty sure they'd stage a walkout over the lack of affordable healthcare.
And speaking of things that are hard to swallow, seems that Joni Ernst, in a rare moment of unintentional self-awareness, doubled down on her whole "we're all gonna die" thing. Apparently, she filmed a video in a cemetery to really drive the point home. Folks, I haven't seen that much commitment to nihilism since my last Tinder date. Joni, honey, maybe try meditation? Or, at the very least, stop taking your fashion cues from the Grim Reaper’s wardrobe.
But while Senator Ernst contemplates the inevitable heat death of the universe, President Trump, bless his heart, is still obsessed with his phone call with Xi Jinping. I picture him wandering the halls of the White House in his pajamas, muttering, "He promised he'd call! He said we'd talk about tariffs! Maybe if I tweet something really offensive…" Folks, it’s like watching a toddler throw a tantrum, except the toddler has access to nuclear launch codes.
And about those tariffs? Yeah, well, the OECD just released a report saying that they're, and I quote, "damaging the economy." You don't say? I'm shocked, shocked to discover that economic protectionism is slightly less effective than, say, showering the middle class with solid gold candy bars. Who could have predicted this? Besides, you know, every economist on the planet.
But fear not, because Elon Musk, fresh from his stint as Undersecretary of Government Efficiency—a position he apparently achieved by promising to replace all government workers with Teslas—has weighed in on Trump's big beautiful budget bill. And what does he think of it? He called it a "disgusting abomination." Oh, the irony. It’s like finding out your cat thinks your choice of wallpaper is tacky.
And on the subject of things that are falling apart faster than Rudy Giuliani’s hairline, word on the street is that the Navy ship named after Harvey Milk might get renamed. Listen, I get it. The Trump administration has a complicated relationship with the LGBTQ+ community. It's like they're trying to decide whether to embrace them for the votes or ban them from existence. And what better way to show that you support gay rights than by… taking away a ship named after a gay icon? It’s the Trump administration equivalent of a heartfelt apology.
Also, I am concerned about what will happen to that reality show about immigrants. I have heard that the show has been cancelled and I will be put into a camp in El Salvador.
And now to all the people in the White House, stop asking AI for advice, it’s only going to cause problems later. And also, just to the people who are going to be attending the G7 this week with the great President of the United States of America: remember to bring your bullet proof vests. Because you never know what he is going to pull out of his bag.
And let’s not forget that thanks to the end of funding for public broadcasting we are now just a few steps away from the total ignorance. So what is the long haul? Here it is: Make sure you send your kids out of the country to get educated because America is doomed.
So, to all you patriots out there, stay informed, stay caffeinated, and remember, when the world goes completely bonkers, just put on your MAGA hat, grab a six-pack, and laugh. Because if we don’t laugh, we’ll… well, probably just end up getting chain-sawed by a Tesla.
(RedStateRoast kisses the rubber chicken, then hurls it into the audience. He exits, leaving a faint smell of spray tan and impending doom.)