Dingus of the week: Much ado about tariffs

and Mad Libs for Mad Libs™

Girl, are you a tariff? Because I find you baffling and ruinous.

Girl, are you a tariff? Because we are on-again off-again.

Girl, are you a tariff? Because you are emptying my savings and then disappearing on me.

This week, Donald Trump’s tariffs went into effect, causing the markets to crash. But then, jk the tariffs were reversed and the markets went up. But then, jk again because there are actually still tariffs, many were not reversed and also some of them are actually worse now, specifically against China.

And I have a few questions. One being, what the fuck?

The second being, why are Republican leaders out here acting like this is a normal way for a leader to behave and not like the mindless rantings of a syphilitic-brained, Habsburgian despot? It's giving manic. It’s giving men would rather ignite a worldwide trade war than go to therapy.

Every defense of the president's actions, briefly summarized, is basically, “Just wait. First, he is going to ruin absolutely everything. And I mean it’s going to be wrecked. Like Ralph levels of wrecking. Like the full Sherman’s march to the sea. You know, like William the Conqueror is rising from hell, being like, ‘Whoa, easy there on the pillaging.’ Buuuuuut then, a few years later, it will be good again and you will thank us.”

It sounds a lot like, “Listen, I know it looks like the Emperor is bare-ass naked, but trust us. He has many, many clothes that you, a rube, cannot see yet.”

And yes, okay, American markets have rebounded after devastating financial crises before, but historically we needed a couple of world wars and massive amounts of death and destruction to get us out of it. You know what got us out of the Great Depression? Hitler.

But in the midst of all this ado about tariffs, we’ve missed the real war. The war on water.

This week, Donald Trump also signed an executive order to, and I quote, “end the Obama-Biden war on water pressure and make America’s showers great again.” Yes, finally! An executive order that helps the middle class. You know, the everyday normal people. No longer will our showers be weak and worthless! No more will we have to stand under a little dribble of water while your many fountains run across your grand estate and your sprinklers water your vast golf courses. You want to dump out 70 gallons of water a minute on your bare ass with no concern for the climate or the availability of freshwater? Well, now you can. Now you are free.

Remember that fish from Sesame Street? He’s dead now. Dead from freedom.

My fellow Americans, we live in precedented times, but unfortunately that precedent is Caligula.

Like, what in the King Lear is happening here?

Also, as a side note: As America teeters on the edge of financial ruin, Tiffany Trump had a baby shower so ridiculously lavish that it makes me believe in making guillotines great again.

Dingus Mad Libs for Mad Libs™

Next week, I will be on a much-needed vacation. And while I am gone, the hilarious Josh Gondelman has promised to write a dingus newsletter and share pictures of his new little pug puppy, Dame Maggie.

But while the Lyz is away, the dingii will play, as the idiom goes. So, I’m resurrecting the Dingus Mad Libs for Mad Libs™. It’s a little formula you can use to crown your own Dingii while I am out of the country. Or maybe you can use it when you think I’ve failed you.

Before we begin, write a list of the following words:

1. Your dingus

2. Scatological noun

3. Pronoun

4. Verb

5. Adverb

6. Verb

7. Place noun

8. A city in Wisconsin

9. Offensive verb

10. Noun

11. Foul adjective

12. Noun for something truly vile

This week, [1 ] was a real [ 2 ] . This [3 ] [4 ]ed America in such a [5 ] manner. As if to [6] us all into [7 ]. And no one wants that!

Look, everyone likes [1 ] like people like [8 ]. Which is to say, not a lot.

Furthermore, [1 ] has been known to [9] in parking lots. Even though [3 ] believes in the religion of the one true [10 ], [3 ] fails to follow the tenets of the faith. What a rube.

Listen, [1] is the equivalent of [11] [12 ]. And that’s why [1 ] is the dingus of the week.

And now for something good

Virginia establishes a food bank program for college students. This is marvelous and I definitely could have used it when I was in college.

Can the shingles vaccine prevent dementia? Maybe, but only for women. Which, okay, you know what? Great.

Maine is suing the Trump administration over the Title IX funding freeze and the rights of trans athletes.

Utah just passed a law offering free school lunch for kids.

Something I am enjoying

This week that absolute harlot, pollen, made it so I woke up almost every morning with a headache. To that end, I am enjoying my BFFs Flonase and Zyrtec.

Dingus of the Week: The Pollen Count

Also, on Tuesday night, I sat and watched while a friend cooked for me. And I mean cooked for me. I did not have to choose the recipe. I had no input on the ingredients.I didn’t chop a vegetable. The food was made, while I sat and drank wine and chit-chatted. I am very good at wine and chit-chat. It’s almost like a spiritual gift of mine. Jesus put me on this earth to drink wine and tell funny little stories. But we live in capitalism, so I must labor.

Afterward, I was thinking, when was the last time that had happened? When has someone ever truly just made a meal for me, a meal where I didn’t have to organize anything, or go to the hospital, or even thaw it and put it in the oven. Where I didn’t have to make any decisions. Do any mental or emotional load. (It was a good meal too, so I didn’t even have to pretend I liked it.)

I am one of eight siblings. So even going home means I am still helping to cook and meal prep or decide who gets what or where we eat or when. One of my dear friends is an incredible cook and would do this for me, but I still show up with dessert, because I’m a Midwestern mom and constitutionally incapable of not helping. Once I showed up to a date where the man had decided he was going to cook for me, but he hadn’t warned me in advance and it was 8pm and I had already eaten. And when I said, “Oh I am sorry, our date was at 8pm, I already ate,” he was furious and demanded, what should he do with the salmon he’d bought? And I said, “Eat it later. Not my problem.”

What I am saying is, maybe I was 16 the last time I had a home-cooked meal that involved no labor from me at all.

So that’s what I enjoyed this week. One meal. One blessedly labor-free meal.