Krista Monroe

It’s time once again to remind the public that Steve Bannon comes up 2777 times in the Epstein files. The records show a close, familiar, and ongoing personal/professional relationship after Bannon left the Trump White House. Bannon advised Epstein on handling public scrutiny of his criminal history (including the 2008 Florida plea deal involving a minor), media coverage, legal responses, and public image. He described the attention as a “sophisticated op,” counseled against responding in ways that would amplify coverage, and suggested steps like “push back on the lies; then crush the pedo/trafficking narrative; then rebuild your image as philanthropist.” They discussed crisis communications, op-eds, interviews, and a film project. They planned extensive filming (Bannon has publicly said he has roughly 15 hours of footage, with some video later released by DOJ). This included discussions of filming on Epstein’s island. Messages reference media training and, in some reports, a possible Kovel agreement (to extend attorney-client privilege). Bannon has framed the project as a documentary that would expose Epstein; contemporary reporting and some messages describe elements of image rehabilitation. Epstein helped arrange or advise on Bannon’s travel (e.g., alternative flights after the Oxford Union speech was delayed by protests, charters). Epstein joked about being “the most highly paid travel agent in history” with “Massages. Not Included.” Bannon sought Epstein’s contacts, advice, and potential funding support for right-wing/populist efforts in Europe (references to figures such as Matteo Salvini and Marine Le Pen). Epstein offered introductions and strategic suggestions; they also discussed broader geopolitics and U.S. politics. Messages include banter, scheduling (e.g., a February 2019 breakfast), discussions of Trump, and mutual updates. Contact continued until around July 6, 2019—the day of Epstein’s arrest—when Epstein messaged “All canceled.”

Jesus FUCKING Christ, Massie. Every time I think Congress has finally scraped the absolute bottom of the barrel of useless, self-important, backstabbing assholes, you come crawling out from underneath it like a syphilitic fucking sewer rat with a superiority complex and a desperate need for somebody, ANYBODY, to give a shit what you think. You’ve spent your entire worthless career as a preening, self-righteous little bitch who never actually did a goddamn thing except clap for the cameras, cash the checks, and jerk yourself off about how principled you are while the rest of the party actually tried to win. You're a walking participation trophy with a congressional pension, the political equivalent of a wet fart in an elevator who somehow convinced himself he's Thomas fucking Jefferson. And now, for your grand fucking finale, you’re counting “eight impeachable acts” like some pious little altar boy with a hard-on for losing, because Pete Hegseth is effective, the war is going the way your voters wanted, and your colleagues aren’t stupid enough to follow a lame-duck loser into a political suicide pact. Eight! EIGHT! Congratulations, you sanctimonious dipshit. Did you count them all by yourself, or did you need your Democrat buddies to take your shoes off so you could get past ten? And since you've suddenly appointed yourself the nation's supreme authority on military accountability, let's revisit Lloyd fucking Austin. The Secretary of Defense vanished into a hospital for days, the President wasn't informed, his own deputy didn't know the full circumstances, and the Pentagon's chain of command looked like a goddamn Three Stooges reunion. WHERE THE FUCK WAS CAPTAIN ACCOUNTABILITY THEN, YOU SPINELESS, TWO-FACED LITTLE SHITSTAIN? No impeachment crusade. No constitutional sermon. No theatrical outrage. Apparently your principles were buried somewhere between your pinecone collection and whatever Democrat's ass you were kissing that week. But Hegseth starts kicking ass, and suddenly the mighty Thomas Massie emerges from his woodland fucking monastery, clutching his impeachment articles like Moses descending Mount Sinai, ready to lecture everybody about constitutional responsibility. Spare me the sanctimonious horseshit, you gutless fraud. You've become the Democrats' favorite useful Republican, a pompous, backstabbing jackass who mistakes sabotaging his own party for some grand demonstration of moral superiority. You're the political equivalent of a hemorrhoid that learned to quote the Federalist Papers. And the funniest fucking part? Kentucky finally saw through the act. After years of listening to you congratulate yourself for being the smartest, bravest, most principled man in Washington, your own voters apparently decided they'd rather have an empty fucking chair than another term of your insufferable bullshit. Imagine possessing an ego so catastrophically inflated that getting your ass handed to you at the ballot box only convinces you the country desperately needs MORE of your unsolicited wisdom. You're the drunk asshole being thrown out of the bar who keeps screaming that HE'S the one who decided to leave. And now, with the clock running out on your miserable congressional career, you're spending your remaining political oxygen trying to kneecap an administration your own party elected. What an extraordinary fucking achievement. Years in Congress, and your farewell performance is practically indistinguishable from something written by the Democratic National Committee. You had an opportunity to leave Washington with whatever scraps of dignity you had left. Instead, you've chosen to spend your final days as a bitter little political cockroach, desperately scrambling for relevance while the lights go out. So here's some advice, Tommy. Go clear out your empty office, go fuck yourself with that pinecone on the way out, and take your resume full of nothing with you. You're a pathetic, irrelevant, treasonous clown who peaked as a meme, and your greatest congressional accomplishment was demonstrating just how fucking unbearable one self-important asshole can become. Now take your persecution complex, your worthless political legacy, and your bottomless reservoir of self-righteous horseshit, shove it all straight up your ass, and FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF, you pinecone-sucking, zero-accomplishment, traitor-ass motherfucker. 🖕

The clothing brand Quince just launched a (brilliant) campaign with actor David Schwimmer. Here are the completely normal responses from everyone on the “right side of history”

Cam Higby to a Muslim woman: “Did you see that Trump had intercourse with a 9-year-old girl? Muslim woman: “Yeah, that's disgusting...” “It's disgusting, right… But that was actually prophet Muhammad, not Trump. The Hadith says he married a 6-year-old girl and consummated it at 9. Do you still think it’s gross?” She leaves. These people’s hypocrisy never ceases to amaze me. Deep down they know there’s something seriously wrong with their religion.

What Gaza social media looks like. Compare that to what western media wants you to believe about Gaza.

Interesting that the two best speakers at the @TPUSA "America Fest 2026" are....BORING & SAD!