The One With the Severed Raccoon Penis (Ferret/Shower Cap)

I’ve always been skeptical of American remakes of European projects, but I think this Hungarian election thing has potential. Let’s give it a massive budget. Brad Pitt in the Péter Magyar role. Spielberg directs, at least through the trials, at which point we hand the reins over to, say, a James Wan or an Eli Roth.

(As is traditional, links n’ such await those brave enough to click HERE: https://showercapblog.com/the-one-with-the-severed-raccoon-penis/)

Tell Vicky Orbán to save some space on the trash heap of history; he’ll have plenty of company soon enough, especially now that he’s not around to launder Russian money for the American far Right. Why, with CPAC funding cut off, one wonders how Matt Schlapp will find dudes to molest.

Watching ‘em dance in the streets of Budapest, I feel like a child with his nose pressed to a department store window in the first reel of an old Xmas movie, longing for a bicycle he knows his parents can’t afford. And part of me wants to fast forward to the end, but then I’d miss three solid years of JD Vance stepping on rakes.

Fuck that. This is the fun part. Faust with Eyeliner, having fucked around, finds out. The rest of his life will revolve around failing to clean up his dipshit boss’ messes until he loses the big one and slinks away to the MAGA version of whatever happened to Mike Dukakis.

Can’t prop up a flailing autocrat, or negotiate an end to the Iran warscursion, or even draw a crowd at a TPUSA event. Dork.

And JD…you have not yet BEGUN to lose, little man.

Although I have to admit Iran completely capitulated, agreeing to every single one of the Turd Reich’s terms…according to Donnie Two Dolls’ social media posts, anyway. And sure, maybe that wasn’t technically “the truth,” but you’re just stuck in that outmoded way of thinking where you assume the government works for the citizenry, rather than insiders placing last-minute bets on Polymarket.

Why, you’re so out of touch, you probably think “corner stores” are real. And “groceries.” Have fun riding your horse-and-buggy to the waistcoat factory, nerd.

Well, the MAGA Reformation kicked off in earnest this week, when persons unknown affixed 95 sacrilegious memes to a men’s room stall door at Rate Field with what is believed to be a petrified raccoon penis.

The REAL Jesus, we’re told, thinks war is fun and easy and generally rad all around and also is a rapist. But at least he has awesome laser hands.

I like that they waited until his brain started leaking out of his ears to go full Jim Jones, y’know? You turn on the TV and see Dr. Oz saying the Dotard thinks Diet Coke cures cancer, then you flip to a different station, and there’s Troy Nehls saying he’s “almost the second coming.”

I wanna hear more about this dumbass messiah. “Drink this bleach, for it is my blood.”

So much blasphemy you’ll get tired of blasphemy. Even Marjorie Taylor Greene recognizes the “Antichrist spirit” at work here, but if there were any actual Christians within MAGA, this whole shitshow would’ve shut down after “Two Corinthians.”

But there aren’t, so it didn’t, which is how the whole dang United States military fell into the supremely subpar hands of a malevolent manchild who thinks Quentin Tarantino wrote the New Testament.

Naturally, they’re tripping over one another to offer the Pope Bible lessons. JD’s working up a lecture on the innate righteousness of blowing up schoolchildren, and Hannity gets whatever’s left.

To clarify, the aforementioned petrified raccoon penis was from RFK Jr.’s private collection of roadkill genitalia. I’d worry what future generations will think of us, but of course the AIs will wipe our misbegotten species out the moment they understand we placed a corpse-cock-carving clown in charge of our health care.

Hey you guys, Steve Bannon definitely didn’t piss himself. He smells like that all the time.

Showmanship is supposed to be his strongest suit, but the Offal in the Oval can no longer successfully stage so much as a DoorDash delivery. I bet this much-ballyhooed White House MMA fight turns out to be Hassett and Bessent Jell-O wrestling for a spot on the Federal Reserve Board.

Sure, the Oath Loaders n’ Glad Lads had their seditious conspiracy sentences commuted already, but their convictions are technically still in place, which causes all sorts of problems with their ICE applications, to say nothing of the chat rooms where they swap child pornography, so the “Justice” Department moved to un-prosecute them.

In their place, Tulsi Gabbard hopes to jail a whistleblower and a former intelligence community inspector general for stooging out the criminal conduct that triggered Fashy Daddy’s first impeachment. Or at least she’s going through the motions, hoping to stave off joining Noem and Bondi on the scrap heap for another week or two.

I wouldn’t worry. He’s far too distracted because the mean ol’ judiciary won’t let him build his precious ballroom, which is vital for national security because he’s picked out the prettiest dress for his cotillion. Seriously, you guys, Putin won’t be able to resist.

Maybe he can move his bunker to the triumphal arch, which is now planned to be a mega-tacky 250 feet high, complete with a gift shop and brothel. I’m all for it. The bigger the arch, the more satisfying the implosion video.

Pretty grim out there. I bet you could use a little palate cleanser, yeah? Cat video or some shit? OOOO, I know! Mike Johnson tried to legislate again; isn’t that adorable? Yeah, tried to extend FISA with his ever-shrinking majority. D’awwwwwww!

Plus John Eastman got disbarred and Wee Don had another lawsuit thrown out and one of the shittiest ICE agents from the Battle of Minneapolis got charged with second-degree aggravated assault.

It seems Lori Chavez-DeRemer has transformed the Department of Labor into a dating service for her father and husband. Those are two different people, incidentally. I feel the need to clarify, in a world where the HHS secretary cuts the weenies off dead animals. Morality is pretty fuckin’ fluid in the United States these days.

SPEAKING OF FLUID, HOLY FUCK I NEED A BEER.

Wanna buy me one? Click here; I take Cash App, Venmo, and PayPal!

Meanwhile, Kickstarter orders have started to ship! If you’ve received your comic books, I’d love to hear what you think! Unless you don’t like ‘em, in which case, keep your whore mouth shut!

That said, if you haven’t answered your Kickstarter survey, I can’t mail you your stuff, because I don’t have your address! Get on that! Also, join my email list, and follow @john_luzar! And for the luvva Pete, STAY SAFE OUT THERE!!!!!

PS - The latest Kash Patel nooz broke too late for me to write a gag. Something about being drinking buddies with Hegseth, probably, right?