Behold the Omnibus of Progress

     So yesterday, while Tangerine Nightmare was feting trucking executives who thought it would be a great idea to bring a semi on the grounds of the White House (what, no mud? They could've held a Monster Truck Rally thursday, Thursday, THURSDAY!), the House, without Trump knowing it, had punted voting on the Trumpcare bill until today. Then he got behind the wheel of the big rig and played Smokey and the Bandit for a few seconds after promising to blame truck drivers if the bill fell one vote short of passing. (Yes, he did.)
     No doubt, as he took the wheel of the inactive rig and went "Vroom, vroom", he was secretly fantasizing about running over Muslims and screaming, "How do you like it, you ragheaded motherfuckers?!"
     Now, Paul Ryan, a man who's two heartbeats away from the Presidency (and you know he'll be Pence's VP when, not if, when Trump's finally removed from office like the opportunistic foreign object that he is), is talking about cutting taxes when he can't even get his own party to agree on how to kill tens of thousands of Americans when they finally stick the gladius down the gullet of Obamacare.
     And when the GOP can't even agree on how they want to kill you, then there's surely trouble in Republican paradise.
     Essentially, Trump's tap dancing on the ceiling and it's a miracle he's managed to avoid any appreciable fallout for not having a health care plan worthy of replacing the ACA. Or any plan to stop ISIS. Or any plan at all that'll benefit the American people. And then, of course, there's Nunes practically rear-ending his own career by doing what he's been doing regarding Trump's ties to Russia. Apparently, the House Permanent Select Intelligence Committee Chairman saw something that straightened out his pubic hair and immediately sought to minimize the damage even if it meant hoisting himself on his petard by possibly leaking classified intel. (Among the bombshells: Pence and not Trump was the intended target of the surveillance sweep.)
     Really, at some point, a bleeding heart liberal has to almost feel sorry for Sean "Bantam cock" Spicer and Kellyanne "Crack Whore Barbie" Conway in turning themselves into human countermeasures at least five days a week for this burning blimp of an administration led by a Mussolini Mini Me who pretends to drive trucks when he's not pretending to be President.
     Of course, the operative word is "almost" because, while I do not wish to see this country fail as Rush Limbaugh did on Election Night 2008, this administration has to officially fail and fall because not only can the center not hold, it's been butt-fucked into oblivion faster than Nunes did his career.
     And Congress, the Justice Department and We the People have to wake the fuck up and realize that Trump is the Yamchurian Candidate, he is Vlad Putin's fuck doll and our last election, shitty pair of presidential candidates or not, was compromised. Trump called on Russia to hack Clinton's email account and release the missing 30,000 emails and, days later, that's what happened.
     The Republicans aren't talking about St. Ronnie so much these days because St. Ronnie, when he wasn't accidentally walking into broom closets on his way to briefings he'd immediately forget, was a staunch foe of Russia back when it was still the USSR. He was against walls such as the one dividing East and West Germany and he sought to curb the proliferation of nuclear weapons, not accelerate it.
     Trump had wrenched the Republican party into his own hideous image and now, within a generation, he's got Republicans cheerleading for Russia while Democrats rattle their sabres against it. Meanwhile, health care is in tatters, a spot on the Supreme Court is still open after more than 13 months and all Republicans can talk about now is lowering taxes for those least deserving.
     If Reagan could come back from the dead, he'd spit in Trump's face.