Long before Cheeto Jesus became active in politics, I believed he was nothing but a snake oil salesman.  His reputation as a fraud in business, a lecher with women, a crass carnival barker and shameless promoter were well known.  I refused to watch his silly scripted “reality” shows, would change the channel when he was a guest on talk shows, and certainly wouldn’t frequent any of his businesses when in New York.  His campaign, and his subsequent infestation of the White House were and are simply appalling.  But yesterday?  In front of FORTY THOUSAND young boys at the Boy Scout Jamboree?  Donald Trump’s behavior was simply unacceptable.  Foul language, sarcastic, self-serving rhetoric, political and personal attacks were infused throughout his shameful performance.  My God, it was simply the worst of the worst.  How do you teach your child to be loyal, trustworthy, and honest when the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES exhibited NONE of these qualities?

For months I have tried to come up with a one word descriptor for this, this, thing.  The only word that comes to mind is shitbag. (Sorry, Momma)  This word is short and unambiguous.  I know it’s offensive to some, but I couldn’t be more offended than I am now.  New York Magazine has just posted a really good summary of the 14 inappropriate things Trump said in front of our nation’s youth.  It’s hard to read, but you need to do it.

If you voted for Donald Trump, read this; then find one of these in your house:

Then, look long and hard. YOUR guy is the problem.  YOUR guy is the “fake”.  YOUR guy is a disgusting misogynist pig who incites the worst behaviors in his supporters, embarrasses us daily on the world stage, is weirdly obsessed with himself, women’s appearance, and blood.  YOUR guy has singlehandedly turned the entire US government into a circus.

THIS is YOUR fault.  You can blame no one else.  Own it.

To those of us who have followed him for years, it was no surprise when Bill O’Reilly got the boot from Fox Noise yesterday as a growing stream of victims accusing him of sexual harassment overwhelmed the network.  After virtually all of its female anchors left, Roger Ailes was fired, and Fox’s payouts reached $13 million to Billo’s victims, the network finally took the step it should have taken years ago, but only after over 50 sponsors had pulled out.

Trevor Noah of the Daily Show described the whole sordid affair best.  Here ya’ go:

Amidst sexual harassment settlements and sponsors dropping like flies, Bill O’Reilly announced last night that he’s going on a long-planned vacation. Right. Looks like, after years of spewing nonsense and lies, Billo’s meal ticket just ran out. Will he come back?  If he goes the way of Glenn Beck, the answer is no.

Even at Fox Noise, when ratings and ad revenue cease to override the downside of keeping hate spewing bigots on national television, the spewers get the bum’s rush.

In case you’ve forgotten, here’s one of Billo’s all time career highlights:

¡Buenos días!

I am happy to join Juanita Jean and her other Pals to Participate in Professional Political Punditry to Perpetrate Perpetual Prickly Publishing.  Having just joined, I thought I would use a few lines to introduce myself to you.  After a long career of pulling wrenches, brewing beer, baking bread, and cleaning windows, I started my punditry avocation about 10 years ago by ranting and raving on the internets about the sorry state of politics in the good ol’ US of A, and especially in Texas.  I started my ranting after the 2004 elections, raved through the 2008 cycle, which was bruising, and then continued, though not as publicly, to talk about holding politicians accountable to their obligations to the people as elected officials.  I have been dismayed at the failure of party politics, that apparently only exist (with a few notable exceptions) to benefit those in office.

Today, I live just up the road from the World’s Most Dangerous Beauty Salon and visit often, ranting and raving at Juanita Jean (especially since last Tuesday). After patiently listening to my hair-on-fire raging, recently Juanita finally said, “Don’t just tell it to me, tell it to everybody else.”  I thought, OK; so here we are.  In the coming days/weeks/whenever Juanita kicks me out, I’ll be sharing my thoughts as an independent thinker/screamer.  I’ll be talking about social justice, the fossilization of political parties, gerrymandering, the media, healthcare policy, education, energy policy, head in the sand environmental and climate change policy, the cancer of money in politics, and any other damn thing that pops into my head.  Thank you, Juanita Jean, for letting me talk to (yell at) your loyal customers.

To get us going, I’ve posted below a little about me personally.  See you shortly when I pull out the flamethrower.

EL JEFE El Jefe met Juanita Jean some years ago when he opened El Jefe’s Beer, Bread, and Pickle Emporium just up the road from the World’s Most Dangerous Beauty Salon. He savors anything made with his home grown yeast, but especially those things that go well with his South Texas Pucker Up & Slap Yo’ Knee Bread n’ Butter pickles, made especial for the Holidays and coming soon to an HEB near you.

A native Texan, El Jefe is proud to be the great-great grandson of Napoleon Bonaparte Fisher who joined the Texas Rangers in 1860. He was born in North Texas to a jen-u-wine Bible-thumping praise and glory preacher and to the daughter of a jen-u-wine Bible-thumping praise and glory preacher, receiving more Bible & ear lobe thumping before he was 6 than most are privileged to get in a lifetime. Because of his pure and crystal-clear upraising, he now practices his own spiritual tradition of worshiping every Sunday at Our Lady of the Perpetual Bloody Mary & New York Times. He was elected Deacon of the parish many years ago.

El Jefe rants regularly on social media, and is an equal opportunity insulter of all proclivities. He’s sure he’ll insult you, too, and likes to proclaim that he’s old enough to not care about what you think of him or his hand crafted pointy toed roach killer boots made way-the-hell-out-there in Fredericksburg just for him.

So there.