Marlowe Dobbe



Welcome back to One Day at a Time, dears—where we’re on our fifth martini, and it’s not even noon! Join us, because you’ve got some catching up to do! (Both in terms of the news and in terms of martinis. We both know which is more important.) THIS JUST IN... In news that led directly to our sixth martini (c’mon! catch up!), turns out that during the 2016 election, WikiLeaks had a rather friendly relationship with Donald Trump, Jr. (whose dipshit father, lest we forget, lost the popular vote by 2,864,974 votes). During Li’l Trumpy’s 10-month Twitter correspondence with WikiLeaks—an organization that, the Atlantic reminds us, was “already observed to be releasing information that benefitted Russian interests”—he repeatedly followed the instructions of... um, whoever was running WikiLeaks’ Twitter, apparently? (Ah! Democracy!) Over and over, WikiLeaks asked Li’l Trumpy for his help “in sharing its work, in contesting the results of the election, and in arranging for Julian Assange to be Australia’s ambassador to the United States,” the Atlantic reports—and because he’s a goddamn moron like his father, Li’l Trumpy played along. You know, dears, the longer these investigations go on (and oh, how they feel like they’ve been going for centuries), and the more we learn about Russia’s destabilization of America’s fundamental pillar of governance, the more we wonder how our nation’s citizens can work together to make sure such a thing never happens again, and... and... wait. It’s still Monday? It’s not even Tuesday and the world is already falling apart? Time for martini number seven!



In a perfect world, those with wealth and privilege would use their powers to help others rather than exploiting and harming them—kinda like Batman! If only all bored rich men would follow Batman’s example and dress up in a stupid costume and try to make things a little bit better. Alas, we don’t live in that world—we live in a world where the supervillains won, and where even Batman wants to quit! This week’s news from Hollywood focused on the fact Ben Affleck really, really wants to quit being Batman.... but, y’know, in a cool way. “You don’t do it forever, so I want to find a graceful and cool way to segue out of it,” Affleck told USA Today. You know what that means: Hanging in the Batcave Balled up in a grimy corner of Ben Affleck’s garage, there’s a sweaty pair of bat-tights just waiting for the next Batman! Who will awkwardly shimmy into them next? Why, if only there was someone out there who still had any sense of decency...

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 15 Drake! Last week, of course, we noted that Drake was planning to take some time off and collect Harry Potter books—but in the meantime, he’s still performing, and... being kind of a hero? This week, Drake stopped a performance mid-song to “call out a fan in the crowd for allegedly groping other audience members,” writes Page Six! Or, as Drake succinctly said from the stage: “If you don’t stop touching girls, I’m gonna come out there and fuck you up.” And, just so everyone was real clear: “If you don’t stop putting your hands on girls, I’m gonna come out there and fuck your ass up.” True, calling out a predatory pervert is the least Drake could have done, and true, it’s a bummer Drake even had to do it in the first place. But in 2017, we’ll take our superheroes where we can get them. Drake, you’re the new Batman! (You might want to wash those tights before you put them on.)


Just one week after comedian Louis C.K. admitted to sexual abuse, another lefty has taken a dramatic fall: Senator Al Franken—the progressive politician who helped write a Minnesota bill to assist victims of sexual assault—has been accused by two women of (you guessed it) sexual assault and harassment. Franken issued a public apology and has agreed to an ethics investigation into his behavior insisted upon by both Democrats and the GOP. Meanwhile, President Trump—who’s been ignoring the pedophilic actions of GOP senatorial hopeful Roy Moore—vehemently lashed out against Franken on Twitter (while neglecting to mention he’s been accused of sexual abuse by no fewer than 12 women, of course). Franken, C.K., Trump, and Moore may exhibit varying degrees of horribleness, but make no mistake: This cycle of harassment and assault against women is rampant in every political party, every industry, and every social group from the top down, without exception, full stop. And if you’re more disappointed than angry when your personal hero is caught being an abusive shit? Maybe it’s time to switch your focus. Because no matter how depressed or sad you may temporarily feel, it’s nothing compared to the shame, degradation, and hopelessness experienced by victims of abuse. So if your heroes have been getting you down, maybe start holding them to a higher standard. Or just pick a new hero entirely. (For example, we look amazing in spandex.)



Teammates: We are all fully aware and agree that the past year has been a topsy-turvy, never-ending rollercoaster of rotting, burning hog entrails. And yet? We’re somehow still surprised this happened: Country singer Blake Shelton has been named 2017’s Sexiest Man Alive™ by People magazine. Those who choose to ruin their sanity by watching NBC’s The Voice will recognize this walking pack of chawin’ tobaccky as a judge on the reality competition... and mmmm... what else? Oh, and he’s dating Gwen Stefani, WHO WE ALL KNOW COULD DO ASTRONOMICALLY BETTER—but such is the fate of so many women who are destined to consort with those far beneath their station in life. (Our condolences to Hubby Kip, who just realized this bitter truth.) At any rate, People has apparently lost the ability to possess or recognize human sexual arousal, because every time we look at Blake Shelton—that bloated, no-talent Huckleberry Hound—a sandstorm of dryness sweeps into our nethers, lulling our reproductive organs into a Rip Van Winkle-like sleep for what could possibly last 1,000 years. So... yeah. Nice job, People. You sure fucked that one up.



Speaking of nether-drying celebs, Gene Simmons—bassist for your great-uncle’s favorite band KISS—has been permanently banned from Fox News (the last media outlet to give a crap about him). According to the |, Gene was invited on the factually challenged Fox & Friends to pimp his latest book, On Power: My Journey Through the Corridors of Power and How You Can Get More Power (AKA Redundancy Can Be Redundant: Power, Power, Power, Power, and Power). Following his segment, the aged rocker reportedly burst into a Fox staff meeting, exposing his bare 68-year-old sagging man-boobs to female employees. He allegedly continued his onslaught by “bopping” staffers on the head and making random Michael Jackson pedophilia jokes. The incident was reported to Fox News’ human resources department (THEY HAVE AN HR DEPARTMENT?!), who permanently banned Simmons from the network and the building. Obviously this is terrible news for those booking Fox shows, who now only have three conservative celebrity guests left: Chuck Norris, Ted Nugent, and Clint Eastwood (whose man-boobs are definitely not what they used to be).


And before we depart this dick-filled week, there is one final dick of note: According to various reports and pictures posted to social media, a very large and somewhat detailed portrait of a dick (and its accompanying balls) were drawn in white exhaust over the skies in Washington State this week—and because it was a dick, everyone knew who was responsible: the US Navy! “The Navy holds its aircrew to the highest standards,” wrote officials from Naval Air Station Whidbey Island, after being busted for drawing a big dick in the sky. “And we find this [dick] absolutely unacceptable, of zero training value [because we’re already very familiar with dicks], and we are holding the crew accountable [for their love of big dicks].” Okay, true: The Navy did not add those parentheticals—but c’mon! They really do love dicks, and while we celebrate the Navy’s attempts at creative artistic pursuits, we hope these boys remember that after a week filled with Donald Trump Jr. (and Sr.), Ben Affleck, Al Franken, Blake Shelton, and Gene Simmons, we’ve had just about all the dicks we can handle.