Morning Mongo Mania

So today we learn the Radio City Rockettes are effectively slave girls, forced to perform for whatever monster and/or molester curries their master’s favor. For the Rockettes have been ordered to kick it for Mongo, and they don’t wanna:

I usually don’t use social media to make a political stand but I feel overwhelmed with emotion. Finding out that it has been decided for us that Rockettes will be performing at the Presidential inauguration makes me feel embarrassed and disappointed. The women I work with are intelligent and are full of love and the decision of performing for a man that stands for everything we’re against is benhur_galleybcappalling. I am speaking for just myself but please know that after we found out this news, we have been performing with tears in our eyes and heavy hearts. We will not be forced! #notmypresident”

And:

Most of the Rockettes do not want to perform at the inauguration. AGVA, their union, has put in writing to the full time Rockettes that they must accept the inauguration gig or they will lose their jobs. It’s perfect, actually. What could be more fitting for this inauguration than forcing a group of women to do something with their bodies against their will?”

No one wants to perform at The Monster’s inaugural balls. I mean, no one. Artists all over the world, they are running from Mongo, and faster than Richard Pryor with his body on fire. The hideous Clockwork Orangeman has thus far secured but three “name” acts: the aforereferenced Rockettes, who, we now know, are functionally the equivalent of Ben Hur galley slaves; the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, secured only after many desperate Mongo meetings with Mitt “Captain Underpants” Romney; and some 16-year-old singer, Jackie Evancho, a young woman who human-rights groups are furiously working to bar from the proceedings, on the grounds that it is a crime against humanity for The Monster to approach within 50 yards of any minor.

It is just eerie, that not even known knuckle-dragging proto-humans like Kid Rock, Ted Nugent, and Charlie Daniels are stepping up for Mongo. The inaugural people have become so desperate they are now going door-to-door in the DC karaoke district, hauling people off the stage and holding them at gunpoint in a remote warehouse until inauguration day. They are relying on obscuro outfits so bizarre they would give even David Lynch pause. Witness this mutancy:

A Place To Be Trio – Heroes Tribute, comprising the hitherto unheralded trio of Amy Stone (“Amy finds her Cerebral Palsy to be a gift not a disorder”), Brendan Friedrich (“Brendan’s goal is to be an announcer and America’s first blind meteorologist”) and Forrest Allen (“Forrest had a severe snow boarding accident five years ago and sustained a Traumatic Brain Injury”).

Not even Keith Richards can secure and consume enough Medicine to cope with something like that.

Now it is true that putin-boy-kissit is possible that noted boy-buggerer Vladimir Putin may show up at a Mongo ball to croon “Thank Heaven For Little Boys,” for Putin said today he’s ready to come to the US just as soon as Mongo summons him.

Putin also told the Democrats to shut up or get shot about losing to Mongo, adding:

“Trump understood the mood of the people and kept going until the end, when nobody believed in him,” Putin said, adding with a grin. “Except for you and me.”

Putes meanwhile shrugged off Mongo’s rabid ravings about nuke bombs—”nothing unusual” there, Putin said—even as Mongo was frothing to the Morning Joe people: “Let it be an arms race. We will outmatch them at every pass and outlast them all.” Mein Fuhrer! Ve can valk!

That lunatic neocon, General Strangelove, Mongo’s selection as his National Security Advisor, he is this morning in some trouble, as it develops he is in business with a guy convicted of selling information to the KGB. Strangelove is only the man who would fill the nation’s most sensitive intelligence post. But as his appointment is not subject to Senate confirmation, Strangelove could appear in public, stripped to the waist, with I EAT INFANTS scrawled in bright red lipstick across his chest, and not a damn thing could be done about it. Expect Strangelove to so come out. January 20. Dancing and twirling. At one of the Monster’s Balls.

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