Yesterday morning, as the slow motion disaster in Houston was unfolding, Donald Trump demonstrated for the 1,348th time since January his absolute tone deafness and poor self control by pushing Post on this tweet:

That’s correct, folks…while the sun was rising on the biggest disaster in the history of Houston, Trump was plugging a book written by his buddy, David Clarke, sheriff in Milwaukee Wisconsin, who is well known for his cruel treatment of prisoners, encouraging the guns everywhere culture and for festooning his uniform with meaningless lapel pins to make himself look highly decorated.  Trump nominated Clarke to the Department of Homeland Security, a job he declined after the ensuing uproar.

So, Trump is plugging his friend’s book on Twitter on the day that Houston was going underwater, people were dying, and thousands of homes were being abandoned.  Thanks, Donnie J, for keeping your priorities straight.

9 TRILLION TONS OF WATER DUMPED BY HARVEY.

Oh no, oh, NO.

Donald Trump is coming to strut around hurricane damage and where the damn fool tarnation do you think he’s going?

Oh yeah, his guide is gonna be Blake Stinkin’ Farenthold.

I am not kidding.  I wish the hell I were.

Ducky Boy says …

“I might be of a little bit of value to the president because I grew up in this area and can provide some context,” he added.

Sure you can, Blake, and Trump needs it.  “See this tree laying on the ground with no leaves on it?  Well, it used to be standing.  See this building with no front on it.  It used to have a front.  See that house with only the roof sticking out of the water? That water wasn’t there a week ago.”

Trump knows for damn sure he better not come to Houston.  He’d baptize him and not in the nice way.  Hell, if he sets foot in Houston, we’d have to skim nasty off the flood water for weeks and we just don’t have time.

So Trump is going to Corpus to talk about the size of his inaugural crowd.  Just what we need.

Y’all, Anna the Geek sent me this link early this morning to let me know I am not the only one having misery.

The White House communications team’s rapid response director, 31-year-old Andy Hemming, resigned on Monday. National news outlets probably knew him best as “that guy who tried to find positive news stories about Trump.”

This isn’t an uncommon role, but Hemming’s job reportedly included delivering a folder full of positive news articles twice a day to Trump. According to Politico, Hemming was paid “$89,000 a year to spot and distribute positive stories from the mainstream media.” He worked from 5:30AM to 11PM every weekday.

That poor guy could come to Houston to vacation this week and think it’s an improvement over his past job.

I am fine, and I tend to feel a little guilty about that.  My friends and neighbors in the path of Harvey are not so good.  I know the word catastrophic is overused right now, but I don’t know a better one.  This is Katrina.  People are on the roofs of their homes, big fancy two story homes included.  Hospitals are packed and the largest trauma center (Ben Taub) has backed-up septic system.  Even outside of the flooding, the roads are not holding up well. This is the road I take to the grocery store.

This is why they are telling people to stay home if they can.

It will take Houston years to recover.  On the plus side, we have a good mayor and county judge.  We also have a sense of humor and a whole lot of guys with flat bottom boats who just live for this so they can go rescue people.

It’s around noon on Saturday.  We are doing great.  We got about 7 inches of rain last night but it hasn’t rained since daybreak so we are draining great. There was a tornado last night in the county that left a mess in a residential neighborhood but amazingly, no one was hurt.

Here’s my all time favorite local news story.  About an hour ago, my son and I were watching hurricane porn on the teevee, where local reporters – who never pronounce the names of any cities or streets correctly – stand in driving rain dodging deadly tree branches so you don’t have to.

So this reporter was bent in half in the wind, telling us it was so damn awful outside that you should stay inside and get in your closet.  And he earnestly says to the camera, “I don’t know how much the camera can get of this, but the smell is awful.”

Praise God, the camera couldn’t get much of it.