Welcome back to One Day at a Time, dears—where, to kick off the week, we bring you the comforting, heartwarming news that in the upcoming feel-good film You Are My Friend, Tom Hanks will play Mr. Rogers! Well, that’s nice. Seeing Tom Hanks put on a dorky zip-up sweater and speak in calming, relaxed tones about the importance of being kind sounds like a very pleasant way to spend an afternoon! (So long as they leave Lady Elaine out of it, as Lady Elaine is terrifying.) Anyways, please keep this warm and fuzzy news in mind, because—as has been the case every week for the past year—things are about to get rough! WHICH LEADS US TO... World-consuming, employee-abusing, business-annihilating Amazon is teaming up with enormous banking corporation JPMorgan and multinational holding company Berkshire Hathaway to... fix health care? The three horrifyingly powerful businesses—whose only commonality is a shared refusal to abide by any ethical standard whatsoever—have vowed to create a new healthcare system for their employees, and then maybe offer it to the rest of us peons. On one hand, America’s healthcare system is so broken that just about anything has to be an improvement, right? On the other, putting Americans’ health in the hands of cutthroat corporate businessmen (and yes, the kazillionaire leaders of each of these corporations are all men) who only value financial dominance over all living beings seems... um... a bit questionable? Guess we’ll find out! In the meantime, we’re sure these magic healing crystals we bought on eBay from “AuraHealer69” will totally clear up Hubby Kip’s eczema. God, we hope so. It’s getting... pretty intense.



And so we come to the first State of the Union address from Donald Trump, a man who lost the popular vote by 2,864,974 votes and has the lowest approval rating of any president in the history of modern polling. Trump’s speech was notable for being not quite as racist, sexist, or war-mongering as it could have been, but was otherwise crammed full of exactly the bullshit everyone expected. Far more interesting was what First Lady Melania Trump did—after, of course, she escaped the White House basement prison she’s been chained up in for the past year! TO WIT... Publicly appearing in the same ZIP code as her husband “for the first time since the public allegations that President Trump had conducted, just weeks after Mrs. Trump had given birth to the couple’s son, an affair with the porn star Stormy Daniels,” notes the New York Times. Melania arrived separately from Trump, wearing a white pantsuit—which, as Vanessa Friedman at the NYT notes, is “exactly the kind of outfit that became a symbol of her husband’s rival, Hillary Clinton,” and “has since become widely accepted as sartorial shorthand for both the suffragists and contemporary women’s empowerment and something of an anti-Trump uniform.” Designed by Christian Dior—whose artistic director, Maria Grazia Chiuri, rose to fame thanks to a T-shirt she designed that declared “We should all be feminists”—Melania’s suit also called back to last year, when, in a sign of protest, members of the Democratic Women’s Working Group wore the exact same thing to Trump’s first address to a joint session of Congress. In other words, Friedman says, Melania’s fashion decision was “about as subtle a slap in the face as could be contained in a garment.” Hey, it’s a start! C’mon, Melania! If you can escape the basement for a night, certainly you can do more than just put on a pantsuit. We’re sure, for instance, that Robert Mueller would love to chat over coffee.


“Thank you for all of the nice compliments and reviews on the State of the Union speech,” tweeted Donald Trump, who fucking sucks. “45.6 million people watched, the highest number in history.” IN RELATED NEWS... “Mr. Obama’s first official State of the Union speech in 2010 attracted 48 million viewers,” points out the BBC. “Mr. Clinton’s State of the Union pulled in a record 66.9 million television viewers in 1993,” they added. Oh, and “Mr. Bush pulled in 62.1 million in 2003.” Heavy sigh. MEANWHILE... Rich dweeb Elon Musk is now selling flamethrowers online. “Guaranteed to liven up any party,” the sales copy for the $500 device reads, appealing to morons who are soon-to-be hideously disfigured burn victims. Musk brags his flamethrowers “are the “world’s safest,” though “aspiring flamethrower aficionados will be sent a terms and conditions rhyme for review and acceptance.” In an Instagram video, Musk was seen turning on his flamethrower and rushing toward the cameraman while giggling maniacally. “Don’t do this,” Musk wrote in the caption. “Also, I want to be clear that a flamethrower is a super terrible idea. Definitely don’t buy one. Unless you like fun.” Oh, for chrissakes. What kind of jackass would spend $500 on—OH, RIGHT... We just caught Hubby Kip trying to sneak our Platinum MasterCard out of our knockoff Dolce & Gabbana clutch we got out on 82nd. Then he asked if our credit limit “was at least $500.” This should go well.


Today everyone is FREAKING OUT, because tomorrow GOP Rep. Devin Nunes (who currently resides deep inside the president’s ass) is expected to reveal a “jaw-dropping” memo that will supposedly prove that the FBI is crawling with biased, Hillary-loving deep state traitors. That would be interesting if true, but as we all know, Devin Nunes is a proven liar. Last year he tried to convince everyone that President Obama spied on the Trump campaign—though we later discovered that his “source” for this information was the Trump White House. Nice try, LIAR! Now Nunes expects us to believe the FBI was biased toward Hillary Clinton. Oh, is this the same FBI that broke protocol to announce that Clinton was under investigation... a freaking week before the 2016 election? We don’t think so. However, no matter what this memo reveals, one thing is for sure: It was written by a liar who is deeply embedded inside Trump’s ass. So please join us tomorrow, when we’ll all be pointing and laughing at the incompetent, bumbling Nunes as he reveals himself to be a lying, colluding, justice-obstructing criminal. (Oops, almost forgot: who also smells like the inside of Trump’s butt!)


Well, it happened! The memo has been released, and this jaw-dropping announcement is not only true, it’s more earth shattering than we suspected: The Spice Girls are getting back together! According to NME, the popular ’90s group announced via memo (on Instagram) that they’re reuniting to collaborate on a series of projects, “including TV shows, endorsements, and a greatest hits compilation.” Notice how the words “world concert tour” weren’t mentioned? That’s because Victoria Beckham (AKA Posh Spice) agreed to rejoin the gang on one condition: She wouldn’t be required to sing. “Oh thank god!” cried a clearly relieved world, who added, “And can Baby Spice stop dressing like a little girl? That shit is straight-up creepy.” MEANWHILE, IN LESS IMPORTANT NEWS... the Nunes memo also dropped today (which was pretty snoozy compared to the Spice Girls announcement), and as predicted, incompetent fuck-up Devin Nunes really fucked it up. The scant, factually challenged four-page memo was clearly a botched attempt to smear the FBI (and derail the Mueller probe), but instead only made Nunes look like a corrupt imbecile—because (a) he either doesn’t understand how federal investigations work, (b) he does understand and he’s a liar, or (c) he’s both! Anyway, long story short: Everyone laughed at him (except dum-dum Trump voters who believe anything), and are now even more convinced that Trump and Nunes are guilty of obstructing justice, and should spend the rest of their lives in prison. (Or at least be forced to listen to Posh sing solo renditions of every Spice Girl song. She really is doing us a favor, guys.)


Today the New York Times published a troubling interview with Uma Thurman in which she recounted some very disturbing experiences working with director Quentin Tarantino. While filming Kill Bill, Thurman says that Tarantino coerced her into driving an unsafe car, which then crashed, causing permanent injury to her neck. Later in an Instagram post, she clarified that she didn’t think Tarantino was acting “with malicious intent,” and instead placed the blame on the film’s producers for allegedly covering up the accident. But Tarantino’s weird on-set behavior didn’t end there: In the interview, Thurman also accused Tarantino of temporarily stepping in for actor Michael Madsen during a scene, so he could spit in her face. Later, Tarantino asked another actor to also step aside in a fight scene, so he could choke Thurman with a chain. Dear cinematic auteurs of the world: Why are all of you so fucked up? Follow-up question: Can you please work out your weird, abusive neuroses in therapy, instead of on the women in your films? #TimesUp


Happy Janet Jackson Appreciation Day! As you know, today is when Americans show their enduring gratitude for the numerous positive contributions Janet Jackson has made to society, while practicing the dance moves from “Rhythm Nation.” (At least that’s what we did.) However, there were those who chose to spend this hallowed day eating garbage and watching a stupid football game where Janet’s former Super Bowl co-star Justin Timberlake attempted to perform a solo halftime show. As you can probably guess, it did not go well. Sure, you could blame his weak medley of moldy hits, a duet with the ghost of Prince projected onto a bed sheet, or that (omigod) ABYSMAL camouflage suit—but we all know what this show really needed: Janet Damita Jo Jackson (or Ms. Jackson, if one is nasty). Hey, Super Bowl! Learn how to read the room.