Tag Archives: President Trump


“Over more than two centuries, the United States has stirred a very wide range of feelings in the rest of the world: love and hatred, fear and hope, envy and contempt, awe and anger.  But there is one emotion that has never been directed towards the US until now: pity.”– Fintan O’Toole/Irish Times

Cartoon used by permission: 238269 Quack Prez by Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star, Tribune MN

I haven’t blogged in weeks.  I can’t.  I’m in a state of shock!  I’ve been frozen in place like Lot’s wife ever since I heard Trump announce that I could blast my insides with ultra-violet light and drench my innards with bleach, Lysol, and the likes of 409 Multi-surface cleaner to cure myself of COVID-19 should I unfortunately come down with the virus.  I can’t say my response to Trump’s inane declaration loudly enough that has been careening through my head for days on end:  WHAT THE FUCK!?!

Cartoon used by permission: 238543 Trump Wacky Package by Dave Whamond, Canada

It is clear that a madman dwells in the White House, and not only is he trying to kill me, but his ineptitude in handling this pandemic is making me disoriented and possibly mentally ill.  I noticed it just the other day.  A series of unfortunate events happened last week that make me wonder if President Trump, along with polluting TV Land, has released a “mental virus” in the water and the air that will slowly drive us all crazy as we self-isolate, scurrying to and fro behind our masks, so he can dismantle our government brick by brick without much resistance. 

PHOTO CREDIT: E. Tomczyk/Coronavirus Times


Something has happened to my bowels.  I can’t stop shitting my pants when I hear Trump’s voice, read what idiotic things Trump says, or think/talk about Trump.  It’s like clockwork.  Trump opens his mouth, I feel the need to poop.

According to Kate Bratskeir of Huffington Post:

 “If you’ve noticed changes in your bowel movements over the past month or so, you might be wondering why this biological function—that often comes like clockwork—has decided to get weird.”

She says I “might be experiencing what we can call nothing else besides a ‘pandemic poop.’”


Cartoon used by permission: 238263 Quack in chief by John Darkow, Columbia Missourian


It’s been eight weeks since the shutdown, and I noticed that I have what some doctors are calling quarantine fatigue accompanied by coronavirus anxiety.  It is affecting me in all manner of ways—especially my memory.  I never know what day it is from sunup to sundown except for Friday.  That’s when the garbage man comes.  If it’s garbage day, it must be Friday.  If my garbage man should go on strike in the future, I’ll be screwed.  A psychologist friend thinks it is because I no longer do anything to bookend my days or break up my week.  I am in a constant loop of the same ol’ same ol’…

It keeps getting worse.

Ten days ago I did some cleaning and gardening. I took off my wedding rings so that they wouldn’t get damaged. Yesterday I realized I never put my rings back on.  When I went to do so, I couldn’t remember which hand wedding rings are worn on.  I had to resort to the best solution I knew to find the answer:  “GOOGLE: WHAT HAND IS THE CORRECT ONE TO WEAR WEDDING RINGS?” 

OMG!!  (You know the first thought that crossed my mind, right?)

A sympathetic friend told me that what I was experiencing was not Alzheimer’s—it was just coronavirus anxiety.  She said, if I was coming down with Alzheimer’s, I wouldn’t have remembered what the rings were for in the first place or that I was even married.  That was a good thing because shortly after speaking with her my husband walked into the room and wondered why my wedding rings were sitting on the counter and not on my finger.  Oy.

I blame it all on Trump.  I had just watched the morning news and watched him push three conspiracy theories and underscore four of his hate tweets against anyone who spoke truth. If he had not failed at his job from the very beginning (too much golf, watching the news, and rage tweeting), I would have been playing canasta with my gal pals (if it’s canasta it must be Monday) and known what finger my rings should be on because I could have simply glanced at my canasta partner’s hand.

Cartoon used by permission: 238383 Normal longing by David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star Tucson, AZ


We are supposed to have a family reunion July 4th weekend in Seattle. I don’t think it’s going to happen. I know it isn’t. One coronavirus model shows a leap to 200,000 infections/3,000 deaths a day by June. I haven’t cancelled the plane flights yet, but it is inevitable we won’t go. It will be too risky to travel on a plane that far—especially as a vulnerable COVID-19 individual (this monster is disproportionately eating up Black lives as if we were a lion’s afternoon snack). I “Zoom” with my children and grandson most every week, and I know I should be grateful. I find myself clinging to their every word and sad when the Zooming ends. If we miss a week, I seem to slip into a mild depression. Their effervescent laughter makes my heart percolate and rejuvenates me. Normally, I am really grateful for the technology that can put us face-to-face, but as Mother’s Day approaches I guess I am painfully aware that I haven’t hugged my babies and they haven’t hugged me since last year. It hurts—it really hurts. (Who ever thought hugs would become one of the most precious and sacred gifts in the world.) What is even worse is that I haven’t kissed and hugged my grandson since Christmas. In our “new normal,” how long will it be before we can all be together as a family? What if one of us gets struck down by COVID-19 between our Zoom sessions? My heart breaks in missing and longing for my family—to sit with them, to hold them, to snuggle with them, to kiss their precious faces, to stroke their hair.

But then my God reminds me…

The hearts of the mothers of the nurses and doctors who have died fighting the good fight on the front lines of the coronavirus on our behalf would give anything to “Zoom” with their kids just one more time.  Of the 70,000+ Americans who have passed from this horrid pandemic, if their mothers are still alive, I know their hearts are breaking beyond belief this Mother’s Day.  The “new normal” for these mothers is something that I can’t even begin to fathom.

So I will stop whining and wait patiently for the kids to Zoom me this weekend.  (Oh yeah, if the kids are Zooming me, it must be Sunday—it must be Mother’s Day.)

Cartoon used by permission: 238635 Mother s Day 2020 by Dave Whamond, Canada

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival:  “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 238389 Patron St. of Hopeless Presidents by David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star Tucson, AZ

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Posted by on May 6, 2020 in Uncategorized


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Cartoon used by permission: 235544 Corona Virus Trump by Bart van Leeuwen,


“To Cry Wolf” defined as “to give a false alarm” with the result that subsequent true claims are disbelieved—Oxford Dictionary

Once upon a time in a land far, far away in the Milky Way Galaxy, lived a petulant little fat man who once laid illegitimate claim to the presidency of a country called the United States of America.  It was a big and powerful land with many beautiful people of different hues, colors, and religions at the time he became their leader.  The country had its issues but nothing that couldn’t be worked out through bi-partisanship, respect for each other’s differences, unity, brotherly love, and grace.  But when “Fat Boy Trump” rose to power, he was a petulant, insecure, and spoiled little man with very tiny hands who wanted the people of his land to worship him unequivocally and see him as the “fixer” of all their problems—both real and imagined.  In his effort to secure the people’s adoration, he spoke to them of carnage, mayhem, marauders, enemies at the border, and imaginary enemies called a “Deep State.” The real enemies of this great and powerful land were Putin of Russia, the White Nationalists within, and the greedy rich oligarchs who were praised, protected, and supported by the President.  The carnage that Fat Boy Trump claimed plagued our nation, of which he said only he could fix, always seemed to be against the poor, the indigent, the immigrant, and the foreigners from “shithole countries” as he was wont to call them.

Cartoon used by permission: 235582 Don’t worry Trump by Bruce Plante, Tulsa World

Fat Boy Trump was a leader who utilized “gaslighting” as a scepter.  When he lied about the size of his inauguration, the fact finders pleaded with him to tell the truth.  When he said that wind turbines caused cancer, the scientists warned him against tweeting alternative facts.  When he took a sharpie to an official government weather map and added a hurricane path over Alabama to support an apparent cover-up to validate an incorrect tweet, the meteorologists set their hair on fire.  When President Fat Boy Trump lied more than 60 times that the whistleblower complaint was false—that his call with the Ukraine president had been a perfect call—the Democrats warned him not to lie because there would come a time when the Nation would need him to tell the truth, but no one would believe him.  All in all, by the time of the Great Plague of 2020, Fat Boy Trump had cried wolf more than 16,200 times.  By the time the coronavirus monster threatened to destroy America’s citizens from sea to shining sea, its President had lost all credibility as a leader in the country as well as with the rest of the world.

Cartoon used by permission: 235469 Coronavirus Pandemic by Bill Day, Tallahassee FL

Fat Boy Trump rushed out into Tweeter Land and onto TV Land to try and calm the nerves of his country’s fearful citizens.  He blamed the Chinese, he blamed the Democrats for hyping the dark force of COVID-19 to tank his presidency.  He blamed his enemies (anyone who disagreed with him) for the stock market plunge.  But nothing worked because both the markets and the public were looking for reassurance from their leader that all would be well in the land that he had so divided and eviscerated with his copious lies.

Cartoon used by permission: 235566 Tweeting away the Coronavirus by Dave Whamond Canada

Our Liar in Chief tried to console us with false prophesies about the coronavirus (most likely whispered in his ear by his Pentecostal Evangelical “Spiritual Advisor” Paula White):

“It’s going to disappear; like a miracle, it will disappear—nobody really knows.”

Then our narcissistic leader made the coronavirus outbreak all about himself and a slam against the Democrats (half of the country he was supposed to be leading and comforting):

“The Democrats are politicizing the coronavirus. They’re politicizing it,” Trump said. “They don’t have any clue. They can’t even count their votes in Iowa. No, they can’t. They can’t count their votes. One of my people came up to me and said, ‘Mr. President, they tried to beat you on Russia, Russia, Russia.’ That did not work out too well. They could not do it. They tried the impeachment hoax.”

One of his non-scientist minions, National Economic Council Larry Kudlow, would come forth with a half-hearted Fat Boy proclamation:

We have contained this, I won’t say airtight but pretty close to airtight.”

A declarative document from the White House would definitively declare:

“The Administration is taking aggressive and proactive measures, working closely with state and local partners to protect the public health. President Trump has led the way in addressing the coronavirus and has allowed the U.S. to stay ahead of the outbreak as it has developed.”

Fat Boy sent Jason Miller, senior communications adviser on the 2016 Trump campaign down to the Fox News TV in the village to make a triumphant declaration:

 “Even if the virus is not our fault, we will be the ones to solve the problem. That is the message the American people need to hear.”

Cartoon used by permission: 235553 Trump and coronavirus by John Cole The Scranton Times Tribune PA

But the villagers—the frightened, panicked Americans—who could have really used a Comforter in Chief instead of a Liar in Chief during the encroachment of the plague—decided not to listen to their leader because he had fooled them 16,200 times before. Even if he were telling the truth now, how would they know? And so the very wise among them shouted back to the President in unison the Aesop moral of the tale of a President who cried wolf too many times:

“A liar will not be believed, even when [and if] he speaks the truth.”

Cartoon used by permission: 235526 Viral headlines II by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival:  “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 235524 Viral headlines by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson, AZ

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Posted by on March 1, 2020 in Uncategorized


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Cartoon used by permission: 232990 Twas the Night Before Impeachment by R.J. Matson CQ Roll Call


‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the country,

               Not a news org was stirring, not even the Fox News punditry.

               The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,      

         In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

Cartoon used by permission: 219574 Santa Social Media by Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch OH

               Fractured Americans all nestled snug in their beds,

               While visions of Trump’s impeachment (or not) danc’d in their heads,

               Women in pink pussy hats, and White Trumpers in their MAGA caps,

               Had just settled their brains for a long winter’s nap.

Cartoon used by permission: 232948 Merry Christmas by Milt Prigge Oak Harbor WA

               When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

               I sprang from the bed to see what the fuck was the matter.

               Away to the window I flew like a flash,

               Opened it and looked out on snow-covered grass.

A red-suited fat man stood down there below,

               Stomping up and down as he yelled: “Ho, ho, ho”;

Then, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

               But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

Cartoon used by permission: 87030 Santa Claus And His Flying Reindeer COLOR by Bob Englehart

With a spring in his step, so lively and quick,

               I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

               More agile than fairies, the reindeer they came,

               As Santa whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

“Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer, and Vixen,

               “On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Donner and Blitzen;

               “To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

               “Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

Cartoon used by permission: 87220 Prancers Out COLOR by Cameron Cardow The Ottawa Citizen

Like an arrow shot from a bow does fly,

               Santa, his sleigh, and bag did mount to the sky;

               So up to the house-top eight reindeer they flew,

               With the sleigh full of Xmas wishes—and St. Nicholas too:

               And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

               The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

               As I pulled in my head, and was turning around,

               Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound:

Cartoon used by permission: 157843 Santa and lighthouse beacon by Dave Granlund

               He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

               And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

               A bundle of gifts was flung on his back,

               And he muttered like a crazed prophet while he opened his pack:

               “15,413 lies in 1,055 days by my last Trump naughty tally,

               “Should I skip the White House entirely and fly on to North Philly?

               “And should I rent tons of U-hauls needed for all the coal,

               “To be placed in the stockings of Trumpers who’ve sold their souls?”

Cartoon used by permission: 232858 Santa naughty list by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

               The stump of a pipe he clinched tight in his teeth,

               As angry smoke encircled his head like a wreath.

               And he mumbled: “What to do, what to do, what to do?”

               Then burst into laughter, and said: “Shit, I don’t have a clue.”

               He gave off a huge sigh, that right jolly old elf,

               And I laughed when I heard him in spite of myself;

               He was just as flummoxed as the rest of us,

               Which made me think these days I needed someone higher to trust.

               Santa shouted several phrases as he went straight to his task,

               Filling all the stockings with word-gifts for which we’d asked:

“Trump Impeached!”

“Trump Removed!”

“Trump Destroyed!”

 “Trump Done in!”

               And laying his finger aside of his nose

               And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

Cartoon used by permission: 204470 Santa Hacked by Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

               He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

               And away they all flew, like a North Korean missile:

               But I heard him shout in his booming rich voice: “DO NOT FEAR:

Concentrate on the TRUE meaning of Christmas, my Dears.”      

 “IN THE NAME OF JESUS—the true reason for the season

Trump WILL be impeached and with damn good reason”

(“Mainly ‘cause God don’t like ugly, accordin’ to Black Folks’ teasin’s.”)

Then I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,


Cartoon used by permission: 219626 Christmas Day by Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle GA

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival:  “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 189369 Santas Likes by Jeff Koterba Omaha World Herald NE

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Posted by on December 18, 2019 in Uncategorized


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DEAR READERS: Guess what?  It has been seven years since I started my blog, and I’ve decided to change the format from the “Discovery Series (Do You Know What I Discovered Today)” to “Attempted Phone Calls to God from Down Below.”  These are desperate times, and because I increasingly wonder what or where God is in the mighty scheme of things (does he care, is he on vacation, or is he just late to the party?), I’ve decided to harangue God more than I usually do. My “voicemail messages” will be very short essays of universal questions I wish God would answer about life, and observations of evil and stupidity that I wish he would simply acknowledge and fix or summarily eradicate. The good news is, even though I’m changing the format, I plan to keep the cartoons which everybody seems to enjoy. 

Who knows, maybe I’ll start trending: #AREYOULISTENINGGOD

Woman Praying Silly Bunt Meme


VOICEMAIL GREETING:  “You’ve reached the voicemail box of Jehovah at 1-800-PRA-TOME. I am experiencing a high call volume at this time—especially from the United States—but I will return your call as soon as is heavenly possible.  Please note that I operate on a triage system (‘the process of determining the priority of patients’ treatments based on the severity of their condition’). Leave your name, number, prayer request, and I will get back to you at some point.  May I bless you!”


HELLO, GOD.  IT’S ME, ELEANOR.  Looks like you’re out again or something.  We seem to be playing phone tag as of late.  (I noticed that slight dig about a preponderance of calls from the United States on your voicemail message.  Were you talking about me?)  You’re the one who once said, “Are you weary, carrying a heavy burden? Then come to me.  I will refresh your life, for I am your oasis.”

Well, Oasis, no disrespect intended, but where are you?  In case you haven’t noticed, the United States is being led by a madman, and the rest of the world is getting its ass kicked by the Devil.

God asleep Angel Boligan El Universal Mexico City www caglecartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Angel Boligan, El Universal Mexico City,

I don’t mean to be impertinent, but if I don’t call you—who am I going to call–Ghostbusters?  You’ve said that I should “pray without ceasing.”  Well, every day—every single freakin’ day—I pray that you will save us and deliver us from Donald J. Trump.

And yet, heeeee’s still heeeerrre!

Although these last couple of days have had a weird patina about them—as if the end might be near.  Which is why I’m calling you.  Is this the end of the Trump madness?  Is the anonymous op-ed piece in the NY Times the last stages of Trump’s undoing or, even better, will the scathing, meticulously researched book, Fear, by Bob Woodward be the final nail in his coffin?

I’m sure you have an advanced copy of Fear (mine doesn’t arrive until Sept. 12th), but did you see that quote by Woodward:

“The reality was that the United States in 2017 was tethered to the words and actions of an emotionally overwrought, mercurial and unpredictable leader. Members of his staff had joined to purposefully block some of what they believed were the president’s most dangerous impulses. It was a nervous breakdown of the executive power of the most powerful country in the world.”

The End is near Marian Kamensky Austria

Cartoon used by permission: Marian Kamensky, Austria

Oh, my God, God!  And a portion of the anonymous op-ed to the NY Times pretty much says the same thing:

“The root of the problem is the president’s amorality. Anyone who works with him knows he is not moored to any discernible first principles that guide his decision making.”

Right before “Anonymous” wrote that damning sentence, the NY Times quoted him/her as saying:

“…the president continues to act in a manner that is detrimental to the health of our republic.

That is why many Trump appointees have vowed to do what we can to preserve our democratic institutions while thwarting Mr. Trump’s more misguided impulses until he is out of office.”

Fear by Bob Woodward Stephane Peray Thailand

Cartoon used by permission: Stephane Peray, Thailand

So, I’m calling to ask two questions:  1) who is “Anonymous”—our 2018 “Deep Throat,” and 2) are you in the process of busting Trump’s balls and breaking his knee caps?  (Need I remind you that you don’t let me get away with anything?)  All I have to do is think something catty about another human being while sipping my morning coffee, and you give me heartburn for the rest of the day.   I’m just sayin’:  Donald J. Trump’s litany list for a passport into Hell is endless and worthy of your damnation.

Anyway, if you tell me who “anonymous” is, I won’t tell anybody.  I promise.  I personally think it is Melania.   She didn’t write it, of course—she can barely speak English.  But I can see her dictating it to her staff, can’t you?   I’d be willing to bet my angel’s wings that she is the one because I secretly think she hates The Donald’s guts and has been waiting for a way and time to tell him “You’re fired!” for years.

Deep State Throat John Darko, Columbia MO

Cartoon used by permission: John Darkow, Columbia MO

Before I hang up, I just want to let you know that your White Right-wing Evangelicals have drunk the Kool-Aid–again.  Please, please, please ignore their prayers.  They are pinning all of their Trump Devil worship on being “God’s will.”  In fact, it would be fabulous if you purged them, and started all over again when you bring down Trump.  They’ve sold their souls lock, stock, and barrel to the Cheese-ball in Chief’s racism, cruelty, and lying which pretty much makes Trump Satan’s spawn and his supportive Evangelicals his demonic minions.  I know I’m not supposed to judge, but when something walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and acts like a duck, well then…

Evangelicals and the Devil David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star, Tucson, AZ

Anyway, God, stay tuned.  If I don’t hear from you by Thursday, I’ll be calling you again because Hurricane Florence is headed my way.  Lord, have mercy!


WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS:  Monsters’ Throwdown, Fleeing Oz, The Fetus Chronicles on sale now at Amazon!


Traitor Friends Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

Cartoon used by permission: Pat Bagley, The Salt Lake, Tribune, UT

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Posted by on September 9, 2018 in Uncategorized


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Do you know what I discovered this week?  There are moles in the White House who are leaking pertinent information.  I know because they contacted me.  No, that’s not entirely accurate.  The White House moles contacted the Tomczyk moles who live in my lawn (of which there are scores), and gave them the straight poop on all the crazy shenanigans that #45 has been up to.  They say this president is going down! These moles can hear everything, because they are everywhere under the White House grounds, and they assured my mole peeps that Trump did “tape” Comey on several occasions. How’s that for a “deep state” scoop? Fox News thinks that Obama government hold-overs are the leakers in the White House, but it is actually insectivores.

TRUMP COMEY DINNER John Darkow Columbia Daily Tribune Missouri

Cartoon used by permission: John Darkow, Columbia Daily-Tribune, Missouri

The White House moles are true patriots and are Trump supporters (they tend to support whichever president occupies the White House), but they have become very concerned at the volatility of this particular president and the damage he is causing our democracy.  Several of the moles keeled over and fainted dead away when they heard him leak secret information to our enemies the Russians that had been told to our CIA in confidence by the Israelis.  (First of all, the White House Moles couldn’t believe that the Russians were invited into the Oval.  There are a large group of moles that have served under several presidents, and they had never, ever seen such egregious flaunting of security and boastful mishandling of top secret information.)

Trump spills the Beans Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund,

Then there was the pulling together of that bogus letter to fire Comey.  The White House moles heard it all!  Things whispered in the dark and secretly taped… They weren’t fans of Comey’s, but they had heard the inside scoop between #45 and his body guard who later delivered the pink slip to the FBI.  When the news broke about Comey, the White House moles were deeply concerned, but when the White House spokespeople blatantly lied about why Comey was fired, the moles wondered whether they should speak up.

Muzzling Comey Marian Kamensky Austria

Cartoon used by permission: Marian Kamensky, Austria

Then the White House moles overheard a private conversation in the Oval between Trump and one of his loyal Evangelical supporters that greatly alarmed them.  The Evangelist was pledging his undying loyalty to Trump along with all his followers, and encouraging Trump to fight on—to never give up—because God was on his side.  The Evangelist said that any and all critics were the Anti-Christ and Trump was to ignore them.

The moles determined that a message needed to be leaked on social media to warn the country about what was going on in the White House and the crazed, religious bent of many of #45’s supporters, so they chose “Eleanor the Blogger” because of her long-standing, on-again-off-again relationship with the Virginia moles and the fact that she used to be one of those goose-stepping Christians (horrors!) to sound the alarm.  She wasn’t necessarily a fan of moles, but they knew her to be fair.  Below is what transpired.


This morning, when I went out to pick up the morning newspaper, I noticed a giant pile of leaves and debris on my front lawn.  “Goddamnit,” I said to myself.  “Those moles have been up to it again!”  When I began to stomp down on their tunnel, I noticed that a grungy manila envelope (marked:  From the White House Moles) lay just beneath the surface.  Upon opening the envelope, I found an old-fashioned tape recording and the picture of the Evangelist Jim Bakker—looking like Gollum with a white beard and a cross on a blue cap.  (Remember him of the Jim and Tammy Show [she with the runny mascara from crying all the time], and [he the convicted felon accused of raping a woman, paying her hush money, and misappropriating funds from his Christian village/theme park])?  He was convicted for 45 years and sent to prison, but got out after five years on a technicality.  At first he appeared to be a humbled and changed man.  Even wrote a book about how he was wrong about shaking down gullible people for his self-centered, greedy purposes.  But given what I heard from the tape delivered by the moles, he’s back and worse than ever.   Below is a transcript of the tape between Jim Bakker and President Trump that was delivered to my lawn by the White House Moles.


Jim Bakker, convicted felon/evangelist/doomsday huckster

TRUMP:  Welcome, oh squirrely one.  Who are you that dares enter my presence unannounced?

BAKKER:  It’s me, your Royalness.  One of your poorly educated that you said you loved so much on the campaign trail.  I hail from Branson, Missouri.

TRUMP:  Oh, yeah!  Are you one of my Christians or one of my Heathens?

BAKKER:  Your Highness, I’m one of your best Bible-believing Christians.  In fact that is why I’m here.  God sent me here to tell you not to get discouraged.  You won this election because of all the good Christians who prayed and fasted for you, and then voted for you in droves.  God heard our prayers and put you in office.  If Hillary had won, God told me that it would mean He was judging the world for immature leadership.  In fact, I came here to specifically tell you that you should pay no never mind to your critics.  They are just haters from Hell.  *It seems like there is a hatred among peoples and this is satanic. This (hatred) is the White Horse of the Apocalypse. The White Horse of the Apocalypse is the first horse. It’s a horse of speech. It’s a horse of spirit. And the spirit of Antichrist is out now. This is what you’re seeing. You want to know what the Antichrist spirit looks like. That’s what’s going on in America. These people mocking the president. The words they use. The speech they use. That’s the spirit of Antichrist. That’s the spirit of hatred.*

TRUMP:  Oooooh, I knew my haters were bad.  Agents of the Devil, you say?  Part of the Apocalypse?  Epic!  God’s on my side?  Wait. I thought I was God.  Are you betraying me, my little uneducated one?

BAKKER:  Oh, no Master.  You are the one who will usher in the return of Jesus.  No matter who criticizes you, the Christians who voted for you will never, ever believe their lies.  We will never turn against you! We will fight for you until the end.

Poorly Educated Arts and politics from the armpit of America

TRUMP:  Can you believe how they treat me?  **No politician in history, and I say this with great surety, has been treated worse or more unfairly. * And did you hear that a special prosecutor has been appointed to mess with me?  They didn’t even consult me—they just up and did it.  Announced it to me thirty minutes before announcing it to the world. ***With all of the illegal acts that took place in the Clinton campaign & Obama Administration, there was never a special councel [sic] appointed! This is the single greatest witch hunt of a politician in American history!”*** This is America.  I should be able to do what I want—meet with the Russians, fire somebody, and grab women by their va-jay-jays.  I’m the President!

President Cartman RJ Matson Roll Call

Cartoon used by permission: RJ Matson, Roll Call

BAKKER:  Yes, your Holiness?

TRUMP:  So what do you do for a living, my loyal subject?

BAKKER:  I’m a leader in the “Prepper Movement.”  You remember, I sent you all my pamphlets.  I help the right kind of Christians (ones that think like me) prepare for the Apocalypse.  I have a show on TV (via DirecTV, Roku, Apple TV), and I sell food and goods for the End Times.  The end is fast approaching, my King.  You’ve got your tsunamis, your earthquakes, your financial meltdowns, your Zika virus, and most of all, you’ve got your ISIS and your homosexuals—all point to the End Times.  Obama was the Anti-Christ, as you know.  But don’t you be afraid because you’ll be saved in the Rapture, and you’ve been made President of the United States to hold back God’s wrath for a few years.  That’s where I come in.  It will be seven years of turmoil and then Jesus will take all the real Christians—including you, Oh Anointed One—right up to Heaven.  But you’ve got to stay alive until then.  That’s where I come in.   I sell enough goods through my TV show to keep you hanging out in your bunker until Jesus returns to rescue us.  (This is why Global Warming is a crock of shit—no need to worry about the Earth because Jesus is going to destroy it in seven years anyway, after we’re gone.)

Anyway, to keep you staying alive, I’ll sell you 14 totes full of black bean burger mix for $3,000; what I call Bakker’s Dozen Extreme Canteen Kit, including 13 packs of ponchos, thermal blankets, glow stick and whistles for $500; and my Survival Food Brick Monthly Club with 90 servings of food for $50 per month.  I’ll also sell you a solar-powered, “fuel-less” generator for $1,784, and a variety of mid-tech water bottles and hand-cranked ham radios for extra security.

Jim Bakker Survivalist Food

Snapshot of Jim Bakker’s Prepper Food++

TRUMP:  I only eat McDonald’s burgers, fries and Kentucky Fried chicken.  Got any of that freeze-dried in your seven year plan?

BAKKER:  No.  But you’ll love what we do have.  As you so famously say, “believe me!”  It is sooooooooo good!++  My advertising slogan is: “Imagine — the world is dying and you’re having a breakfast for kings!”

TRUMP:  Excellent!  As I’ve always said, the beauty of me is that I’m very rich, so I can afford your end-timey food.  By the way, how much for the snake oil?



I am discovering that you can’t make this shit up.  There are no such things as undercover garden moles leaking me White House secrets, but there is a mad king in the White House and nutty Evangelicals supporting Trump’s every move.  In fact, they, along with their science-fiction fears, helped him gain the White House. The exact quotes of Trump and Bakker have been indicated by asterisks in my blog, and are tagged into the source material under “references” below.   One of the reasons the supporters of Trump will never believe the truth or stop following him (no matter how terrible he becomes) is because, for many of them, voting for him was a holy cause, and to admit that this president is the worst leader we’ve had since Andrew Johnson means that they were wrong, wrong, wrong in voting for him, and it would shake the very core of their faith in God and their literal interpretation of the Bible.  It would destroy them to the core.

++JUICY TIDBIT:  EVANGELIST’S JIM BAKKER’S FOOD WAS REVIEWED BY CASEY CHAN OF SPLOID AND CHEF GREG LAURO FROM BROOKLYN, NY WHICH CHEF LAURO PURCHASED AND PREPARED: “The food—which basically only requires the addition of hot water to cook—ends up being like beige slop and red vomit and liquid sludge. (Chef Greg) Lauro described the taste as ‘paper mache’ and ‘a bathroom at a bar at the end of the night in a college town’and ‘one of the worst things I’ve ever eaten in my life’ to describe the taste and smell of the food.”


LATEST BOOK BY AUTHOR:  The Fetus Chronicles: Podcasts from My Miseducated Self



Witch Hunt David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star









Posted by on May 18, 2017 in Uncategorized


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