Hello, and THANK YOU for all the birthday messages sent to me telepathically last week. I sensed every last one right down to the essence of my aura. I’m thrilled to have completed another lap around the sun, but this orbit seemed even faster than the last, and frankly, I’m a bit dizzy. The passage of time needs to slow its roll, okay? While I may be looking weathered, I’ve got nothing on another entity celebrating a birthday this week, who’s only getting meaner, more forgetful, and worse with money. She’s turning 243 years old, and her name is AMERICA.
So much is happening, and a lot of it is awful, but as a birthday treat to myself, I’ve aggressively refused to read all the bad news, because my brow gets all furrowed and if I age any uglier I’m going to start looking more haggard than our democracy. So c’mon! Let’s read the non-worst news of the day!
Presidential crotch-fruit Eric Trump was recently spat on by an employee of Chicago cocktail bar the Aviary. The only upsetting thing about this is that it’s not something that happens every day—but it should. And it should happen any time anyone in the Trump family or their evil administration shows their face in public. (Okay, not Barron. He’s a kid, and he’s probably not vaccinated, so his immune system couldn’t handle spit.) The Aviary put out a statement about the incident and the employee, reporting that they “placed her on leave.” Hear that? HER. Women are out there doing the work!
Now sports: Nothing makes me feel more bonded with my fellow trashy Americans than not caring about soccer, but that’s changing with the ongoing Women’s World Cup. American team captain Megan Rapinoe has engaged the sports-apathetic like me by saying that, win or lose, she is “not going to the fucking White House.” Trump, being a huge fucking crybaby, took to Twitter to whine about how no one cool likes him, but because he’s an idiot, he tweeted at the wrong M. Rapinoe. And then THAT person clarified, “wrong gal but I also think you suck.” LOL, nobody wants to eat McDonald’s with you, Don, and I will care about soccer as long as it takes for you to remain humiliated.
The 475 Democratic presidential candidates recently had their first debates, split between two nights because that’s the only way they’d each be sure to get a soundbite. As anticipated, Elizabeth Warren and Kamala Harris kicked all the asses and took all the names, but longshot candidate Marianne Williamson got a lot of press too, mostly from people going, “Who the hell is this lady?” Williamson—a woohoo guru, friend of Oprah, author our parents read in the ’90s when they were trying to figure shit out, and new friend your recently divorced aunt brought to Thanksgiving who caused everyone to quietly worry and formulate a plan to get a hold of your aunt’s bank statements to make sure she hasn’t started investing heavily in crystals—delighted the audience by not speaking for most of the debate and then later saying her microphone wasn’t turned on. Sure, Marianne. Williamson’s campaign also claimed—with zero evidence—that her numbers are so low because her supporters aren’t being contacted by pollsters. SURE, MARIANNE. Your microphone and all of your unpolled supporters are just visiting Niagara Falls right now. I know that Williamson jokes will be annoying by the time you read this, but TOO BAD, you’re getting them, because once she’s out of the race we have to start criticizing the candidates I actually like. That’s why for now, Marianne Williamson is a hero.
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, But It Will Have Corporate Branding!
The workers of home goods website Wayfair recently organized a walk-out to protest their employer selling beds to the for-profit concentration camps currently housing asylum-seeking children, which is great because that’s one less website to visit after I have a couple glasses of wine and buy shit I don’t need. Also, children’s magazine Highlights came out swinging against the baby jails, sharing a letter that “children are the world’s most important people,” and clarifying that this means ALL children. Highlights was always a dope read at the orthodontist’s office and I’m glad that at least one childhood memory can be celebrated. I propose “Competitive Highlights for Adults: The Pub Game,” in which I will destroy all you zeroes at finding the six hidden objects.
Remember in my last column when I was all sad about how I didn’t have enough space to truly dive into the insanity that was Justin Bieber challenging Tom Cruise to a cage match? GUESS WHAT! The story has developed! According to TMZ, the cage match people called Bieber’s people and were, like, “We’d host that shit!” Now Bieber is reportedly on board, and for some reason somebody else thinks that Tom Cruise and his Napoleon Complex aren’t going to leave this alone. The possibility of this preposterous dream coming true gives me reason to live.
And here’s yet ANOTHER reason to live: Halle Berry is a witch! Gossip site Crazy Days and Nights recently shared that Billy Bob Thornton had a one-night stand with Berry years ago, and when he declined another dalliance, she hexed him. Then he couldn’t get a boner for seven months, until he apologized to her. Berry *did not deny* the allegation. And now I’m remembering how Adrian Brody kissed Berry without her consent when he won an Oscar several years ago and then his career shriveled up? That must have been a hex, too! Halle Berry is for sure a witch.
In Local News
The biggest story in our state right now is this group of Oregon Senate Republicans who fled the state to avoid doing their jobs. Smarter people than me are covering this constantly changing story and I encourage you to pay attention, ’cuz it’s wild. All I have to say on the matter is that I drove to Southern Oregon last week and I-5 around Salem was hellishly clogged with big-ass trucks driven by puffy white men and I felt real smug as I passed them all in my fuel-efficient subcompact.
The Portland Police Bureau has lowered standards for prospective officers in an attempt to draw more applicants. According to the Mercury’s own Alex Zielinski, there are currently 128 open officer positions. So now they’ll consider applicants with neck tattoos, beards, and no college degree. Sounds like me when I was dating in my 20s! Me-ow!
Speaking of cats, Oregon Humane Society recently announced that it is currently at cat-pacity (a purry good pun!), meaning we need to start finding places for them to go. I have the best solution ever to these two local problems: Let the cats be cops.
The Last Word
If you’re wondering, the answer is: NO, it’s not too late to get me a birthday present! Feel free to donate to any company on the verge of a breakthrough in time-travel technology so we can undo most of what happened this week. Barring any good leads there, please make a donation to any organization working to stop Trump’s evil administration and/or protect the people he’s terrorizing. And for America, my birthday gift is this honesty: Just because you’re old doesn’t mean you get to be a dick. Bye, everyone! See you in two weeks!