Tulsi Fatale

One of Putin's assets becomes our top spy chief

Updated with the streak in Tulsi’s hair, thanks to Kathy Mannix.

I met two guys in London who think Trump will be a great president (sic) this time. They’re not Trumpers or MAGAts and both acknowledged he’s a rancid excuse of a human being and was a horrible president (sic) on top of that. But they believe since he made so many mistakes he learned from them and won’t repeat them and will turn around and be a great president (sic) that will be beneficial to the world. What contradicts that opinion is Trump’s nominations to his cabinet. He ain’t learned nuthin’.

Trump’s first cabinet was full of people unqualified for their positions. You had idiots like Rick Perry, Ben Carson, Betsy DeVos, Ryan Zinke, Jeff Sessions, Steve Baby Fishmouth Mnuchin, William Barr, Alex Acosta, Ronny Jackson, John Ratcliffe, Linda McMahon, etc. These were all idiots or corrupt goons.

This time around, he’s nominated Matt Gaetz, Pam Bondi, Pete Hegseth, Kristi Noem, John Ratcliffe, Dr. Oz, RFK Jr, Elise Stefankik, Linda McMahon, and Tulsi Gabbard among others. If you want to destroy democracy, these are the fuckers you nominate to be in your cabinet.

I’ve hit on a lot of these, but today, let’s look at Tulsi. She’s a former Democrat who became a far-right conspiracy theorist and a Republican which made her appealing to Trump. She’s a Putin fan who repeats a lot of his talking points. She’s anti-war but supports Putin’s illegal invasion of Ukraine.

It’s deeply troubling that Putin fan Trump who stole classified documents and gave classified information to Russia during his first term (sic) is making Putin fan Tulsi Gabbard Director of National Intelligence. What could go wrong?

I think the two pro-Trump guys in London are just pro-fascism. One is from Croatia and LOVES Florida and said I was blessed to have been born in Texas. See what I mean?

I’m in Edinburgh for two nights and heading for Dublin on Monday. The problem with winging it most of the way as I’m kinda sorta doing are the surprises. To take a train and ferry to the Belfast port in Northern Ireland, it would take about eight hours, several train changes, and a bus for one segment. The cost wasn’t much but I didn’t want to spend all day traveling. So I looked at flights to Dublin and they were expensive. Then I looked at flights to Belfast and they were cheap (maybe nobody wants to go to Belfast). So I’m taking a 50-minute flight to Belfast and then a two-hour train to Dublin. I’m smart…maybe.

I loved Liverpool and not just for The Beatles, though visiting the Cavern Club was spiritual for me. The folks in Liverpool, Scousers, have the best accents, even though you may not understand it all. This morning I had my first English breakfast and the nice lady who brought it to me pointed out every item, telling me what they were. She even pointed out the toast. Maybe she wasn’t sure if we do toast in America. She was an older woman and her accent was adorable. She was extremely sweet. Also, the English breakfast will keep you from eating for the rest of the day. There were nine items in it.

And this was part of my London evening.

After visiting the Cavern Club, I went to the pub below my room. I think it may have partly been a gay bar or the guys were all just really good friends. I had a good time. Not THAT good of a good time, but a good time. The Scousers are fun people.

A few interactions I forgot to tell you about:

While on the Tube, the train stopped because someone was leaning against a door. The train was packed which is why someone was leaning against it. As we waited, I said out loud, “It’s probably an American. Pffft.” A few people laughed.

While buying candy bars in London for friends (one asked for an English candy bar and I thought it’d be a great gift for other people too), the guy behind the counter noticed my accent and couldn’t guess where I was from. I was like, really? It’s that difficult? It happened again in Liverpool and the guy guessed Scandinavia. I said, “No.” And then he guessed Sweden. I said, “No, and still Scandinavia.” And then he guessed Norway. I gave up. While changing trains in Wigan, England, Three teenage boys asked me where I was from after hearing me talking to a station employee. One of them guessed Italy. Italy? How in the hell do I look Italian? Is British public education that bad? I just assumed everyone here would recognize me as an American as soon as I opened my mouth. What’s ironic is I had an incredibly hard time understanding them. It was almost like Brad Pitt in Snatch.

Drawn in 30 seconds:

Timelapse with a voiceover:

Signed prints: The signed prints are just $40.00 each. Every cartoon at Claytoonz is available. You can pay through PayPal. If you don’t like PayPal, you can snail mail it to Clay Jones, P.O. Box 3721, Fredericksburg, VA 22402. I can also take Venmo and my account there is clay-jones-87.

Tales From The Trumpster Fire: There are currently eight copies and you can order yours signed by me, for $45.00. You can pay through PayPal to clayjonz@gmail.com. You can also snail it to P.O. Box 3721, Fredericksburg, VA 22402.

Knee-Deep In Mississippi: There are only eight copies left of my first book, published in 1997. These can be purchased for $40.00

Tip Jar: If you want to support the cartoonist, please donate through PayPal to clayjonz@gmail.com, Venmo to clay-jones-87, or snail it to Clay Jones, P.O. Box 3721, Fredericksburg, VA 22402