We're staying indoors today for two reasons: It's Friday the 13th, a day when we cats (especially we black ones) court danger from deranged humans if we venture out.
And there may be a Friday Night Massacre tonight.
That's because the unhinged narcissist who currently occupies the Oval Office is fit to be tied, over — well, over everything, all of which he's done to himself. And since he's so fond of Friday-night news dumps, we're bracing ourselves for some firings.
Rod Rosenstein? Bob Mueller? Jeff Sessions? John Kelly? All at once? Who knows what John Bolton, Sean Hannity and Alan Dershowitz will advise Donald Trump to do? Because they're the ones who have his ear now.
Listen, anything is possible. We're talking about a guy (and his minions, it must be said) who, according to James Comey's book, upon being presented with the intelligence report on Russian interference in the election, asked no questions about the future vulnerability of the United States to a foreign adversary. That's damning. Any Trump enabler who was in the room — and that includes Rancid Pieface — should be run out of the country on a rail.
We're also talking about a guy who, also according to Comey:
1). Was obsessed with the rumors of the alleged Moscow videotape, not only because of the icky sexual stuff but because he was worried that he looked like a guy who needed prostitutes. (Well, actually, he does look like a guy who needs prostitutes.)
2). Never laughed. We've heard this from others. Comey took it as evidence of Trump's "deep insecurity, his inability to be vulnerable or to risk himself by appreciating the humor of others, which, on reflection, is really very sad in a leader, and a little scary in a President."
"A little"? Now we cats are the ones who are spooked this Friday the 13th. Oh, how we miss Barack Obama, and we HISS.
(UPDATE, April 14: No firings — yet — but a strike on Syria. We may be cats, but we think we know a wagged dog when we see one.)
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