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Disclaimer: Warning: this is political profanity with rhythm. Every jab is satire, every punchline aimed at the public hypocrisy currently stinking up the Capitol. No violence, no threats—just words, rage, and the occasional well-placed rhetorical elbow. Read on if you can handle the smell of hypocrisy simmering in taxpayer gravy.

You ever notice how every time the government shuts down, it’s the working stiffs who take the hit while the rich bastards in Congress keep the checks coming?

Air...

Disclaimer: This is satire, not scripture. It’s profanity in the service of truth, rage with rhythm, and gallows humor wrapped in constitutional protection. Every insult, metaphor, and verbal Molotov cocktail herein is aimed squarely at public figures and public nonsense, not private citizens or unsuspecting bystanders. No one’s being threatened, summoned, or invited to riot—unless it’s a riot of laughter and overdue accountability.

The author recognizes that public figures occasionally...

I’m taking a couple days off.

Yeah, really. After this post, I’m stepping away for Thanksgiving weekend. I’ll be back in your feed on Monday, December 1st, caffeinated and furious.

But before I vanish into a pile of mashed potatoes and my own questionable life choices, let’s talk about gratitude — real gratitude — the kind where you say: “Hey, remember that thing we used to have? The thing called a right? The thing called basic human dignity? The thing called not living in a dystopian fever...

Disclaimer: This is George-level contempt, with profanity professionally applied and absolutely no citations to hide behind. Read only if your arteries can handle caffeine, outrage, and democracy in the same sentence.

You ever notice how when people with all the power decide to be cruel, they call it “strategy”?

Today’s playbook is a master class in malicious incompetence. The court says—calmly, like a parent telling a toddler not to eat glue—“Use the emergency fund. Feed the people.” Two...

Disclaimer: This rant contains language, logic, and righteous profanity. If you’re allergic to any of the above, call your doctor—or your senator, if you can find one with a spine.

You ever notice Republicans need a goddamn subpoena to develop a conscience?

Tucker Carlson invites a Holocaust-denying, Hitler-fangirling, swastika-collecting little fascist into a two-hour cuddlefest, and what’s the GOP response? A slow-motion blink and a “We find this… concerning.”

Concerning. Like a weird smell in...

SATIRICAL DISCLAIMER: Warning: The following performance contains strong language, political profanity, and jokes sharp enough to cut through legal stationery. This is satire — not journalism, not legal advice, not a subpoena magnet. All characters and public figures are skewered in the name of comedy, catharsis, and the First Amendment. If you find yourself offended, consult your doctor to see if a sense of humor is right for you.

Ladies and gentlemen, gather ‘round for today’s episode of “...

Disclaimer: This is satire, rage, and constitutional literacy performed at 110 decibels. If you think “freedom of religion” means “freedom to discriminate,” go reread the Bill of Rights. Slowly. Out loud. Preferably with supervision.

Let’s start with Kim Davis, the patron saint of self-inflicted martyrdom. 2015: Obergefell v. Hodges drops. Love wins, rainbows everywhere, confetti, Beyoncé soundtrack — the whole deal. Enter Davis: the county clerk who looked at the Constitution, looked at her...

Hey hey, cosmic wanderers — Kendra Cassidy here, reporting for duty and ready to introduce you to an author who lives smack in the middle of the Venn diagram between sci-fi geekery, romance chaos, and pure creative delight.

Say hello to Kay Parquet — storyteller, Trekker, chaos elemental, and the kind of writer who can quote Captain Kirk and deliver a swoony small-town romance without breaking stride.

Kay grew up on the move in a military family and found her anchor in speculative worlds: OG ...

Legal Disclaimer: This performance contains profanity, political heresy, and small traces of uranium. Side effects may include disbelief, nausea, and a sudden urge to Google “how close am I to a fallout shelter.”

You ever notice it’s always the weak guys who talk about nukes? The ones with the emotional stability of a chihuahua in a thunderstorm?

FOTUS wants to start testing nuclear weapons again.

Testing.

Like the planet’s a fucking science fair project. “Look, Ma, I made Nevada glow!”

Let’s...

Disclaimer: This is satire, and if you’re Ken Paxton — yes, we’re talking about you. If you start feeling pressure in your temples, it’s not acetaminophen toxicity; it’s guilt.

You’ve got to hand it to Ken Paxton.

Most people, when they get caught doing shady shit, they lay low. Not Ken. Oh no. The man’s like a raccoon that got kicked out of the garbage and immediately sued the trash can for defamation.

Now he’s suing Tylenol.

Yeah. The white tablets. The hangover hero. The Sunday-morning...

(Live from Planet Earth — where democracy’s on fire and the arsonist is holding the hose.)

Legal Disclaimer: This is satire, comedy, and unlicensed civics. If you think the Constitution is a menu, or that “early voting” means showing up drunk the night before, you’re in the right place. If you believe Jesus personally wrote the Electoral College into the Bible, please go wait in line at the DMV — forever.

For everyone else: buckle up. Because this election season, the biggest threat to...

Disclaimer: This is political satire, loaded with profanity, rage, and disrespect for bullshit. If you’re looking for balance, go watch cable news pretend both sides are equally nuts. Here we name names.

Texas tried to rig the game so hard the refs finally blew the whistle.

Again.

Let’s walk through this flaming clown car nice and slow.

FOTUS and Greg Abbott cooked up a little scheme: “Hey, what if we redraw Texas in the middle of the decade and grab ourselves FIVE more House seats? We’ll call...

(Live from Planet Earth — where nobody knows how anything works but everyone’s got an opinion anyway.)

Legal Disclaimer: This is satire, comedy, and unlicensed science. If you think Pepto is a vitamin, electricity is a government hoax, or Bluetooth is how demons talk to each other — you’re in the right place. If you’re allergic to profanity, logic, or laughter that makes you question your life choices, please exit the theater now and go leave a one-star Yelp review for gravity.

The rest of...

Legal Disclaimer: This is a satirical commentary in the voice of George Carlin. If you’re allergic to profanity, logic, or the idea that science is more important than billionaire dick-measuring contests, go watch cable news. The rest of us have galaxies to discuss.

You ever look up at the sky and really think about what’s up there? Not the zodiac shit or your cousin’s horoscope—I mean what’s actually flying around this planet right now.

We’ve got asteroids out there doing synchronized...

Legal Disclaimer: This is a satirical commentary in the style of George Carlin. If you’re a billionaire warlord, an orange televangelist, or a defense-contracting ghoul who gets a hard-on every time you hear the word payload, this might sting. That’s not cancel culture—that’s conscience trying to reboot. Hydrate.

So Russia built a missile that can fly forever.

Fifteen hours, eight thousand miles, still going. A nuclear-powered cruise missile, because apparently “mutually assured destruction”...

Legal Disclaimer: This is a satirical commentary in the style of George Carlin. If you’re a venture capitalist currently explaining to investors how your “AI gun-detection algorithm” can save lives while flagging Doritos, buckle up. I’m about to debug your soul.

I love artificial intelligence. I really do. The interaction between synthetics and other citizens of the Terran Federation are a recurring theme in my books. It’s the first time in human history we’ve tried to build something smarter...

SATIRE ALERT: THIS IS A GEORGE CARLIN–STYLE RANT. If you are easily offended, constitutionally delicate, allergic to profanity, or think FOTUS is playing 4-D chess instead of 1-ply tic-tac-toe, now is the time to evacuate the premises. Everyone else? Buckle up. The man’s ego is leaking all over the floor and it stains.

Ladies and gentlemen, gather ‘round. Strap in. We are witnessing a world-class Olympic event in Hypocrisy Gymnastics. FOTUS has completed a full epistemic backflip so tight...

Hey there, troublemakers—Kendra Cassidy here. Retired Admiral, Federation badass, and your guide to the cozy side of chaos.

Today, we’re heading down to the coast—where the sea air’s sharp, the tea is hot, and the body count is strictly fictional… unless it’s book launch week. That’s right, I’ve got Shannon Symonds in my sights, and if you don’t know her yet, it’s time you fixed that.

Shannon writes from an old house by the sea—or sometimes the Utah desert, because she likes to keep her readers...

Legal Disclaimer: This is a satirical commentary in the style of George Carlin. If you think “first class” means you’re winning at life, not just sitting closer to the pilot while the rest of us suffocate behind a curtain, buckle the fuck up. This one’s got turbulence.

You know what I love about modern journalism? The optimism. The blind, champagne-fueled optimism.

Apparently, folks — we’ve done it. We’re back. The airlines are returning to service, baby! Free drinks in economy! Coffee for the...

Legal Disclaimer: This is a George Carlin–style commentary. If you’re the kind of patriot who thinks starving kids builds character, you might want to put the flag down before it starts crying.

They’re not governing anymore, folks. They’re gambling with groceries. Forty-two million Americans—fifteen percent of the goddamn country—and these sanctimonious bastards are holding dinner hostage like it’s a bargaining chip in a backroom poker game. “Sorry, little Timmy, Daddy’s tax cut means you’re...