Sunshine blaring still this early-evening Tuesday on California’s north coast — gorgeous all day, just a touch of cool breeze to keep the good-weather motif moving along.
Rain supposedly tomorrow evening, into Thursday, but from Friday onward, maybe at least four days of a ‘Sunny,’ or ‘Mostly Sunny‘ environment — relief.

No solace, however, from the surreal, cruel-comedy playing-out in DC — ‘“…an Inspector Clouseau investigation here…”‘
T-Rump mouth-hole, Sean Spicer freaked on the Russkie infection, and trekked into clueless-idiot sarcasm: ‘“If the president puts Russian salad dressing on his salad tonight, somehow that’s a Russian connection,” Spicer said at Tuesday’s White House press briefing.’

What did the clown expect? The Devin Nunes flap/fiasco has pushed the ‘Russian connection‘ into the spotlight, prime-time.

(Illustration above: Pablo Picasso’s ‘Self Portrait Facing Death‘ (June 30, 1972), was originally found here).

Nunes, of course, is chair of the House Intelligence Committee, and has been what’s generally termed as ‘acting-a-fool‘ the last few days, action nowhere-worthy, though, of the loony French cop — meetings at the White House, hearings cancelled, and fruitcake press conferences, Nunes is really a cartoon character, a young prick-villain, not too smart either.

This nightmare fairy tale has been enhanced for me when I got cable last week. In receiving most of my news online, there’s a certain sense of detachment from subject matters, quick clips of Sean Spicer is way-better than entire press briefings with the neurotic nit-twit — the guy is an incompetent dick.
Although details are found online, the high-points coupled with the optics on cable-TV news make for a surge in nausea.
And anxiety.

Or in the still-potent words of Pinball: ‘“I don’t know how to tell ya this, Cyrus, but we are three white guys short. Or as they say in Ebonics, ‘We be fucked.'”‘