Story by the Pig’s Arms Emeritus North American Correspondent – Neville Cole.

I’ve never smelled rotting human flesh; but I can’t imagine it is a whole lot worse than old dog farts.

I bring this up because I am now very familiar with old dog farts; having been holed up “in an undisclosed location” for the past 10 days with a very old dog. When my old dog let’s rip my mouth curls, my eye’s water, and my hands wave in a desperate attempt to clear the air. It’s not just a smell. It’s a dank disgusting stink so thick you can taste it. Old dog farts roll in dark and heavy like a toxic fog.

But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is my old dog has taken to farting every time she hears Trump lie. I am at my wits end.

“I saw 1.5 million people out there” Gack! Choke!

“3 to 5 million people voted illegally…and all for Hillary!” Cough! Phew!

“This cabinet has the highest IQ of any every assembled.” Argh! No! Not again.

“This is not a Muslim Ban!” Please! I beg of you. No More!

“I got a standing ovation from the CIA!” That’s it! I can’t take it. Kill me now!

Maybe I should just turn off the TV and ignore this all. I could save myself so much pain and suffering.

Maybe I should turn my old dog out into the rain and cold. She would she would miserable but I would be spared.

Maybe I should make the best of a bad situation and buy a gas mask. Desperate times and all that…

People all over this country are trying to figure out how to deal with Trump’s Old Dog Farts. I’ve seen them. I’ve hard them. They are trying to dealing with the stench… working through the stages of grief.

On the night of the election we saw universal Denial.

“No!” The people cried as one. “This is not happening. What the hell? This is disgusting! What’s that smell?”

The toxic fog of election night seemed to hang in the air all the way till the inauguration. You’ve never seen such gagging and tears and revulsion; but still the inevitable reign of Trump loomed large.

I’m not saying there weren’t moments of hope. When Trump’s Russian Shower party was (uh-hem) leaked to the press it nearly broke the internet. Surely, this completely believable hilarity was going to save us all. Just the fact that more than half the nation heard the story and thought: “yeah, that probably happened” should be a clue that things are rotten in Moscow. We couldn’t possibly swear in Putin’s puppet! Not in the US of A! Not in the land of Reagan. Could we? Say it isn’t so… Argh! What’s that smell?

And so we’ve come to this. The Inauguration has set off a tidal wave of… Anger. 

Hooboy! Are we pissed! You bet your fat ass we are! Hell No! He must go! F-bombs rain down across this nation from sea to swearing sea. From Congress to California, from states both red and blue; we’re mad as hell, to all a fuck you!

Punch a Nazi Day Celebrations

Right now in the USA… The rules have changed. Civility has given way to invective. Want to get likes on Facebook? Forget puppies… post a video of a nazi getting punched in the face. Want tweets retweeted by the thousand? Better be sure to end with fu** YOU!

But here’s the rub…

Can we maintain our righteous anger? Will we soon start to slide from anger into bargaining, depression, and (gulp) acceptance? Will Trump’s gung-ho zeal for scribbling half-baked Executive Orders with his big black sharpie out last us all? Will there be ANY line that Trump will cross that will cause Republicans in Congress give a fu**? Will the damage done eventually be too much? Will we be able to put back together what Trumpty Dumpty has broken?

Or…Will we one day soon just get used to the smell?