If Devin Nunes Doesn't Get To Play Outside Soon, He Might Just Sue A LIVE COW
Donald Trump is being serious about coronavirus, finally, or at least pretending to be. Florida Governor Ron DeSantis finally put Florida under a statewide stay-at-home order, because Trump finally gave him his marching orders, we guess.
But you know which elected official is not buying into the liberal agenda nonsense, and just wants to go out in the pasture and play, and if you think he's gonna stay six feet away from each and every cow, you got another think coming, ALLEGEDLY?
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That's right, Devin Nunes is not havin' it.
A couple weeks ago, Fucking Devin was pretty sure when Dr. Anthony Fauci said "stay at home" that Dr. Anthony Fauci was not his real dad, so he interpreted that order as GO TO BARS. (And then got so mad when people reported on what he said.)
Now, weeks later, with the bodies piling up, in an America with more than 200,000 confirmed coronavirus cases and growing, with outbreaks shooting forth from all corners of the country like the country is a big udder and the milk is coming out of all kinds of nipples like WHOA HEY! — against this backdrop, Fucking Devin is doubling down.
What's Great About The New York Times Is How Pompously Bad At Everything They Are
This morning, we talked about that call Donald Trump had with the governors, where Montana's Steve Bullock told Trump in no uncertain terms that they didn't have the damn coronavirus tests they need to avert catastrophe there. In response, Trump said he just hasn't heard anything about testing problems lately, and if he hasn't heard about it, it must not exist.
The New York Times reported on that too.
Oh for God's sake.
Lord Bless And Keep New Orleans As A New Storm Comes
There is something that happens to me every time I cross the state line from Mississippi into Louisiana on Interstate 55, or more accurately, a few minutes later, as I pass through the towns of Hammond and then Manchac, where I see Middendorf's, one of the best seafood joints anywhere, off the highway to the left. Right there begins The Bridge, which you only understand if you've crossed it. From there, you've got 42 miles to New Orleans, and it's about the last time you'll see dry land until you get there, as you roll through swampland along the edge of Lake Pontchartrain. It doesn't matter whether it's daytime, late at night, or, as is most often the case, dusk. It doesn't matter if I'm the only one in the car or, as is most often the case, I'm in a car full of joyful people.
Something in my body, in my soul, just exhales, like I've been holding my breath since the last time I was on that bridge. It's a physical and spiritual reaction. Though I've never actually lived in the city of New Orleans — I dream of one day being able to, at least part-time — there is something about that city and that region that just whispers, "You're OK now. You're here." (There are bits of evidence in our family tree that maybe there is a deeper connection with the city running through our genes, if you believe in that sort of thing.)
Cafe Du Monde, Decatur Street, French Quarter, New Orleans… | Flickr
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New Orleans, as you might have heard, is fast becoming a frightening new epicenter for coronavirus in the United States. New Orleans, a city that's been through disaster too many times before, and that still bears the scars of Hurricane Katrina in 2005.
According to the Johns Hopkins map, there are 1,170 confirmed cases in Orleans Parish, but we're sure that number is already expired. In the New Orleans metro area, it's getting close to double that. New Orleans is experiencing the fastest growth in the world, and the highest number of deaths per capita, in a city where 24 percent of the residents are below the official poverty level and many are homeless.
