This week: The Tampa Bay Rays “like to watch”; The COVID-era World Series champs dodge a late diagnosis; Our president doesn’t drink, but he sure knows how to pull an Irish Exit; Trump supporters are either too hot or too cold, but they’re definitely not “just right”; Is that misused COVID-19 response funds in your pants or are you just happy to see me?; And how Election Day could maybe be less of a quadrennial clusterfuck.
This week: The Tampa Bay Rays “like to watch”; The COVID-era World Series champs dodge a late diagnosis; Our president doesn’t drink, but he sure knows how to pull an Irish Exit; Trump supporters are too hot or too cold, but they’re definitely not “just right”; Is that misused COVID-19 response funds in your pants or are you just happy to see me?; And how Election Day could maybe be less of a quadrennial clusterfuck.
First off, congratulations to the Los Angeles Dodgers who, on Tuesday, won Major League Baseball’s “World” Series.
Take that, shithole countries!… and Japan.
The Dodgers defeated The Tampa Bay Rays in Game 6 after the Rays’ final 2 batters of the series struck out looking! Not swinging. Not check-swinging. Not texting instead of swinging. Just looking. Hell, when he wasn’t leaning in and taking one for the team, even Rudi Stein would close his eyes and get a hit now and then.
But the end of the 2020 World Series wasn’t without its 2020-specific thrills, particularly when Dodgers star third baseman, Justin Turner, was suddenly sent into isolation in the 8th fucking inning because it somehow wasn’t until then that the organization found out he had “the COVID.”
Perhaps very unfortunately for the many people who ended up less than 6-feet away from him, this didn’t stop Turner from coming out onto the field after the game to celebrate with his teammates.
If that is Justin Turner. Hard to say.
Not that I totally blame Turner for wanting to celebrate. It’s not everyday your team wins the World Series. Then again, it is every day that roughly a thousand Americans die of COVID, so… 6 of one, 1000 of the other, I guess.
On Sunday, as has become customary over the years, the major candidates for president and vice president gave interviews to 60 Minutes that were, as the title of the show pretty much dictates, edited for time.
Of course, it was President WoeIsMe who made the biggest splash with an abrupt ending to his own interview. After a question about whether or not his Mean Girl levels of name-calling on social media might be “turning people off” Adolph Twitler got all reddish-orange in the face and basically got up, stomped his foot, and cried, “I’m taking my ball and going home!” Or, more accurately, since they were already in the White House, going to the room he definitely doesn’t share with Melania, though possibly shares with whoever is being paid to stand in for Melania on any given day. But before his all-too-predictable tantrum, President Trump said undoubtedly the truest thing he has said “maybe ever.”
“When I finish, this country will be in a position like it hasn’t been maybe ever.”
Yeah, we knew that as soon as you got started, shit-for-brains.
But it wasn’t just Trump himself who couldn’t stand the heat.
In Florida this week, high temperatures left 17 attendees of a typically mask-less Trump rally requiring medical attention that was apparently unrelated to their presumably pre-existing condition of being dumbasses.
And that was just 2 days after a separate Trump rally in Omaha, Nebraska, where sub-freezing conditions found hundreds of Trump supporters where only they were surprised to be after 4 years of supporting a fool: out in the cold with no one to help them.
As for the other three 60 Minutes interviews, Trump was mad that Joe Biden didn’t have to answer more questions about how he and Hillary Clinton caused COVID; Mike Pence defended his master at every turn which he’s going to have a hard time explaining when it’s his turn at the pearly gates; And Kamala Harris laughed. And there’s nothing conservatives hate more than laughter, particularly when it’s coming from a political opponent or maybe a young, immigrant child. (Shudder!)
To call Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death “untimely” would be like saying it’s “unfortunate” to find a human toe floating in your latte. To begin with, that latte wasn’t cheap. Depending on which latin-themed size you fancy, you’re looking at up to 5 bucks. Accidentally let the words “skinny vanilla” slip off your tongue and you can bump that up another buck-and-a-half. Now just imagine taking that highly anticipated first sip and someone’s severed digit starts bobbing around in front of your face? That’s the collective feeling decent people had the second they heard RBG had finally slammed her last gavel. Because the very second after that is when they knew without question that the living, breathing bloated corpse who calls himself our president would undoubtedly replace her before the election.
And now, it’s official.
In what amounted to a campaign event, Amy Coney Karen Barrett was sworn in at a ceremony on the South Lawn of the White House as if the coronavirus doesn’t know how to get there from the Rose Garden where it made the rounds just last month.
“I just go a little bit south, right? Okay, great. I’ll infect you th– I mean… see you there.”
And so, just 8 days before the election, the Supreme Court is once again fully loaded and ready to rule in the extremely likely event that the sorest loser since Veruca Salt decides to challenge the results of the “free and fair” election. Should be a fun week.
In a story I somehow left out of MY (PREVIOUS) FRIDAY DUMP, Brazilian Senator Chico Rodrigues (which seems like a fake name but isn’t) was caught in a police raid with money earmarked for COVID-19 response funding hidden… where?
1 – Under his mattress
2 – In his butt crack
3 – Under a loose floorboard
4 – No, seriously. In his butt crack
… The answer is 2 and 4.
Rodrigues, who had supposedly been working closely with Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro to “end the corruption of previous governments,” was apparently doing a very bad job of that, and instead, was caught in a police raid and later searched.
Make that thoroughly searched.
According to the Justice overseeing the case, a video of the search exists in which an officer, who I’m assuming drew the short straw, finds the money – and I want to make sure you know this is a direct quote…
“… quite deeply in his underwear.”
And that, apparently, was only after finding several handfuls of loose change and a live Gerbil.
It actually makes sense considering that money was obviously going to be laundered.
(What? I’m not allowed an extremely cheap pun joke every now and then?)
It was truly a “butt load” of cash.
(Oh, you thought I was done?)
Rodrigues was suspended from the Senate for 90 days and faces far stiffer penalties mostly having to do with the fact that he’s Brazilian and yet was obviously not wearing a thong.
And finally, this coming Tuesday is, of course, Election Day, the day every American citizen over the age of 18 who is not on parole for a felony conviction, or in jail for, say, possession of “any measurable amount” of marijuana, has the right to vote for President of the United States. But why Tuesday? Why not Wednesday or Thursday or – oh, I don’t know – either of two days immediately following every fucking Friday when the vast majority of Americans don’t have to work?
Good question!… for which there is an infuriatingly shitty answer.
In 1845, “the first Tuesday following the first Monday in November” was set in legislation as Election Day to make sure that in an agrarian society, people could travel to vote and be back home both for Market Day and for the Sabbath. So it makes perfect sense that we have kept it that way for 175 years to continue accommodating our “agrarian society” and ignore the invention of the motor vehicle.
But let’s consider a few options.
1 – We make it a Federal holiday…
You know, like Labor Day or Columbus Day*, which are both annual Federal holidays celebrating Labor and Columbus, in that order, as well as the opportunity to buy a mattress for way less money than usual. Making election day a federal holiday would make it much easier (and likely!) for tens of millions of working American’s to vote, but Federal holidays can also be a strain on the economy, and rich people hate that shit. So, don’t hold your breath for that one.
*(Side note: Almost everybody hates Columbus these days.)
2 – We combine Election Day with Veteran’s Day…
Veteran’s Day is every November 11th and normally within a week of “the first (stupid) Tuesday following the first (dumb) Monday in (often cold and shitty) November.” So, why not also make that Election Day? That way, millions more people can actually do one of the main things those veterans fought for? And when they’re done, they could still make it to their local parades where they can wield tiny flags, pretend to enjoy a local high school marching band, and watch a random woman in a sash wave at them from the back of a Chrysler Sebring convertible.
3 – We do what Australia does…
Voting in Australia is compulsory and failure to do so can result in a fine. But voting always takes place on a Saturday, is purposefully made easy and efficient, and is often accompanied by a community barbecue at which simple-minded Americans are free to stereotypically believe numerous shrimp are consumed. The hard-to-argue-with result is that Australia’s federal election typically has a 90 percent voter turnout whereas only 55 percent of eligible Americans participated in the 2016 presidential election, which ended with an extremely easy-to-argue-with result.
So, until the land of the free and the home of the brave makes a few changes to assure that we remain free and brave, just get your ass out and vote. Even if you have to wait in line. If you can wait in hour to ride in a teacup at Disneyland, you can wait a couple of hours to make sure the leader of our country isn’t an intolerable boor with the demeanor of a Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger.
Oh, and by the way, despite the fact that #CNHB and his awful offspring and her awful husband repeatedly and falsely claim that mail-in voting is a means of corruption and “massive fraud” used specifically by anyone who votes for Joe Biden, it turns out it’s a completely safe and legitimate way to be sure your voice is heard. Just ask #CNHB and his awful offspring and her awful husband.
Oh, how I would love to see the scene in which these three find out there’s only 1 parachute.
Ending, as usual, on a positive note…
This week’s musical guest is LP, aka Laura Pergolizzi.
My Canadian friend, Jay Brown, was the first to turn me on to LP. He didn’t know what to make of her except to say that he was drawn to what he saw and loved what he heard. I agreed. The video he sent around was a live rendition of her song “Lost On You.” It’s pretty damn good in a “Well, I’ve never seen or heard anything quite like this before” sort of way, and many 0ther ways as well. So I dug a little deeper and landed on this truly incredible cover of Beyonce’s “Halo.” It’s a perfectly paced slow burn that builds to an unexpectedly rockin’ crescendo before floating back to Earth like a choreographed feather. And the video is beautifully shot to boot.
I’ve still never heard the original, but I feel like it would only let me down. You be the judge.