Welcome to this week’s comeuppance, dears! Remember last week, when dastardly White House communications director Anthony “The Mooch” Scaramucci got dumped by his beautiful wife (who was nine months pregnant!) after only holding his job for a week? Welllll... “Ten days after beginning as White House communications director, the epochal reign of former hedge-fund boss and foul-mouthed New Yorker Anthony Scaramucci is over,” reports the New York Times! “Mr. Trump recruited Mr. Scaramucci as a tough-talking alter ego who would ferociously fight for him the way others had not. But ‘the Mooch,’ as he likes to be known, quickly went too far, even in the eyes of a president who delights in pushing the boundaries of political and social decorum.” Wow. You have to be one salty-mouthed sailor to have Trump be embarrassed about your language! Considering that last week Moochie dropped this gem—“I fired one guy the other day. I have three to four people I’ll fire tomorrow”—here’s hoping he’s somewhere far, far away... perhaps at a quiet meditation retreat, reflecting on the concept of irony. Or learning how to keep his mouth shut. We’re fine with him doing anything, really, so long as we never have to hear from him again.


Now, dears, let’s bid a not-so-fond farewell to the corrupted halls of Washington, DC, and instead report some shocking news from Washington State: Macklemore almost died! “Macklemore is lucky to be alive after his Mercedes was hit head-on by an alleged drunk driver in a pickup truck,” TMZ reports. Thankfully, both the alleged drunk driver and Seattle’s least-favorite rapper are fine. When police inquired if the driver of the pickup truck had been drinking, TMZ adds, “The guy told officers on scene he had a drink ‘a while back.’ When asked how much, cops say he replied ‘five o’clock.’” Same, Drunky. Same. MEANWHILE... Hubby Kip just came running up from his horrible little basement, covered in Cheeto dust and brandishing a raw cucumber like it was his cherished collectible lightsaber. “Annie, Annie! Make sure you mention the story about WWE’s the Undertaker being scared of cucumbers!” Sigh. Fine. “He struck terror into the hearts of his opponents with the supernatural-like presence and knack for stuffing his victims into caskets. But in real life, the Undertaker had a fear of his own—he was scared of cucumbers,” the New York Post dishes from the crisper drawer! “He cannot stand cucumbers,” the Post continues, quoting “Paul Bearer,” the wrestler’s manager, who died in 2013. “I saw the Undertaker throw up all over a Waffle House because there was a cucumber floating in his iced tea.” Hubby Kip, we’re sorry we doubted you about this juicy slice o’ goss! And we’ll never look at a Waffle House the same way again.


And now to type a phrase we never thought we’d type: “Today brings us not one, but *shudder* two pieces of Sharknado news.” First up, the Syfy channel’s schlocky series of chompy B movies has seriously been underpaying its lady lead, Tara Reid! According to the Hollywood Reporter, Reid only makes about a quarter of what her costar, Ian Ziering, makes for each film. “She protested the disparity during the filming of Sharknado 3,” the Reporter notes, adding that “Syfy later asked fans whether or not to kill off her character.” Hmmmmm, not suspicious at all. Sure, Tara won’t be spouting off Shakespearean soliloquies anytime soon—but her acting skills are at least equal to stupid 90210’s stupid Steve Sanders! MEANWHILE, IN *SHUDDER* OTHER SHARKNADO NEWS... “In January 2015, two years before he was sworn in as president, Donald Trump was set to step into the same role in a very different capacity: He had signed on to play the president in 2015’s Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No!” reveals the Hollywood Reporter. (The role later went to Shark Tank star Marc Cuban, who, frankly, should have known better.) In other words? Stunt casting for a Sharknado movie became our reality. Is it 5 pm yet? Or 4 pm, or 11 am? Time for a drink!


George Clooney is not only an Academy Award-winning actor, director and activist, he is also the most beautiful man in the world,” according to Newsweek, who are clearly on the prowl for a Pulitzer. “Using computer facial mapping technology, a London cosmetic surgeon measured the proportions of Clooney’s face—including his eyes, nose, jawline and chin—and calculated its proximity to the golden ratio sweet spot,” Newsweek adds, noting that Clooney’s beautiful, beautiful face is a 91.86 percent match for the ancient ratio that “exhibited perfect symmetry.” IN RELATED NEWS... We could have told you this years ago, Newsweek. And we did! We believe we told everyone! We also believe that our dearest Georgie sent us several very sweet restraining orders. We found some perfect frames for them, and they look fantastic in our foyer. AND IN EVEN MORE RELATED NEWS... True, we don’t have a “mathematics degree,” and we “had to look on Wikipedia to see what the golden ratio was.” But just, you know, eyeballing it, we think Hubby Kip is about a... 14.8 match for the golden ratio? That’s okay! He has other qualities, like being able to hang things up in our foyer.


Last week, dears, we wrote about how twerpy tyrant Justin Bieber seemed to be getting his life together... until he ran over somebody with his truck. In a sane world, Bieber would face some sort of consequence for this—perhaps even one that would, perhaps, encourage him to stop hitting people with trucks? Alas, we do not live in a sane world. According to law enforcement sources who gabbed to TMZ, Bieber won’t be facing charges, due to the fact that the photographer he hit was standing in the street, and—wait for it—Bieber claimed to be “blinded by camera flashes.” Now that he’s gotten off scot-free, except Bieber’s spree of vehicular terror to continue. (Psst! Justin! We hear Macklemore’s an easy target!)


So far, dears, this horrible week has been full of blinded Biebers, puking Undertakers, and mooching Mooches—but thankfully, Channing Tatum is here to make it all better! Las Vegas’ Channing Tatum-produced Magic Mike stage show is extending its run, reports People—and naturally, Channing knows why the show’s such a hit. “We just kind of did something that we thought was important, which was actually make it for women, and not for women to come and worship men,” the dreamy Tatum said, dreamily. “To actually worship the women that are coming to the show and do something for them instead of just being like, it’s all about the dudes up there.” Tatum added that he’s “definitely” planning to participate in some of the show’s performances! “I’m absolutely going to at some point,” he said, and all was right with the world.


And there’s even more good news: The GOP is tearing itself apart, and Republicans are feasting on the corpses of their own! (If it weren’t for that Magic Mike news, this’d be the best thing we’ve heard all week!) “President Trump’s first term is ostensibly just warming up, but luminaries in his own party have begun what amounts to a shadow campaign for 2020,” writes the New York Times, reporting that Republican presidential wannabes are already planning their own campaigns—with the assumption that Trump’s presidency will fail. “The sheer disarray surrounding this presidency... [has] prompted Republican officeholders to take political steps unheard-of so soon into a new administration,” the NY Times continues, noting that “in interviews with more than 75 Republicans at every level of the party, elected officials, donors and strategists expressed widespread uncertainty about whether Mr. Trump would be on the ballot in 2020 and little doubt that others in the party are engaged in barely veiled contingency planning.” MEANWHILE... As Republicans start to stab each other in the back, what are Democrats doing? Oh, you know, the usual—just wandering around aimlessly and ineptly. With the Clintons probably summering in the Hamptons with their investment banker pals, and Bernie Sanders probably standing on a street corner shouting at no one, there doesn’t seem to be anyone on the left who’s capable of running—let alone winning—in 2020. And thus, dears, it is our solemn duty to proclaim that it’s time for us to support the one person we know can unseat Trump in 2020. It’s time for us to cheer on the one person who can, and will, save America from itself! It’s time for us all to get behind Channing Tatum! (Or for him to get behind us. That works too.)