Joe Biden Es Demasiado Viejo Para Ser Presidente


In the history of the United States, there have been 46 presidents. Off the top of his head, President Joe Biden can name exactly one of them. And oddly enough, it’s not Joe Biden!

“Back in 2009, during the so-called Great Recession, the president asked me to be in charge of managing that piece. Then-President Trump. Excuse me, Freudian slip. That was the last president. He caused… Anyway. That wuh… Puh-President Obama, when I was vice president.”

Joe Biden has the mental acuity of a man half his age. Excuse me, twice his age.

I liked the little save at the end there. You think Joe doesn’t know Obama was president? Joe was there! Joe remembers!

Now, keep in mind that President Shrunken Apple was reading off a teleprompter there. I don’t think his staffers wrote down “Then-President Obama” for him to read. What happened was, Joe got to the part about the president asking him to do something, and he decided to ad-lib. He switched off the autopilot and took manual control of his 80-year-old brain. Which has never been a good idea, even when Joe had all his marbles.

You can almost hear the hamster wheel spinning in Joe’s head as he tries to work through the problem for himself: “Yeah, yeah, the president. Okay, I know this one. 2009, right? Then it would’ve been the guy I worked for, what’s his name… Trump! Then-President Trump, that’s the one. Wait, no, that’s not it…”

Joe also claimed he used to “drive an 18-wheeler.” Which, translated from Biden-speak, means he once rode in an 18-wheeler in 1973. That’s almost as good as a network news anchor claiming to be a combat veteran.

Look, I like old people. Some of my favorite folks in the world are old people. I’m turning into an old person myself, which isn’t fun but it sure beats the alternative. We’re all going to be old people one day, if we’re lucky. Old people rock.

And, also, in addition to that: Joe Biden is too old to be president.

By the way, today’s headline is “Joe Biden Es Demasiado Viejo Para Ser Presidente” because I already used that headline last month in English, and I can’t think of a better way to phrase this problem. I put it in Spanish using Google Translate,1 because at the rate these illegal aliens are pouring through the southern border, that’s what most of his voters in 2024 will speak. Assuming he even runs in 2024, that is.

And here’s a funny thing. Google Translate now gives you two options:

You see, Spanish is a grammatically gendered language, having been developed back in the dark days when people still believed in things like “male” and “female” and “science.” And Google doesn’t want to be bigoted, because Joe Biden might wake up tomorrow and decide he’s actually a she.2

This obsession with trans gibberish is also why liberals insist on using the gender-neutral term “Latinx,” which almost no Latin-Americans use because it’s ridiculous.

Speaking of Latin-Americans and ridiculousness: AOC! If you want to know the way she “thinks,” just look at this perfect example:

Get it? Because they’re all white. How can it be “bipartisan” if they all have similar skin tones?

Try to imagine a politician condemning a piece of legislation because all the people backing it are black. I know, I can’t either. Who would be that stupid? Who would be that crazy?

“Is this the Bipartisan Infrastructure Group or the audience at a Jodeci concert? #NegotiationsSoBlack.” That would be racist. This isn’t.

The Democrats value diversity in everything but thought. It’s racist to be of a certain race, and nobody of any other race can be racist. It’s really easy when you don’t think about it.

I’m really tired of the CDC. Their panicky overreactions are comical at this point. It sounds like this latest “mask guidance” is based on flimsy evidence, and at this point I know better than to assume they’ll admit it. I don’t trust them, and I don’t trust anybody who uses them to tell me what to do.

Leave me alone, I’m vaccinated.

Somebody should put that on a t-shirt…

Ladies and gentlemen: Mr. Christopher Cuomo.

“I quarantined. I went out.” Yeah, that’s not what “quarantined” means, genius.

I’m not eating in a restaurant that’s “unvaccinated only” — not because I’m scared to get the virus, because after all I’m vaccinated, but because the owner is a dick — and I also refuse to be scolded by a lying bonehead like Chris Cuomo. He and his family have done more to spread this pandemic than anybody. Beat it, Fredo.

So Gawker is back. Good luck with that? I didn’t really miss the site, but if you did, enjoy.

In the words of new Gawker EIC Leah Finnegan: “I ask you to approach this new iteration of Gawker with an open mind and an open heart.” Which seems like a big ask, considering what the Gawker name has come to represent. And because it’s Gawker, Finnegan immediately follows up with: “Gawker inspires a lot of emotion in people (men), which is fine.” Men, right? It sounds like this new venture will honor Gawker’s legacy of unearned moral superiority, lazy stereotyping, and empty-headed snark.3

I hope the new Gawker does a follow-up piece on A.J. Daulerio, the Gawkerite who was deposed in the Hulk Hogan lawsuit and said he would’ve published a sex tape of anyone older than four. That was the moment the original Gawker died. Whenever I feel like I’ve done something stupid, which is a lot, I just think about Daulerio’s $115 million blunder and instantly feel better.

In case you were wondering, I don’t feel like being in the Olympics either.

ZZ Top bassist Dusty Hill passed away yesterday at 72. Damn, man.

Everybody loves “Legs” and “Sharp Dressed Man” and “Gimme All Your Lovin’,” but not everybody knows how weird those guys are:

I love ZZ Top, and it’s great that they’ve kept touring and recording after all these years:

Some things never change. That’s the great thing about being a rock star: You get older, and the girls stay the same age.

Hill’s last wish was that ZZ Top should on without him, so the band’s guitar tech Elwood Francis will take over on bass. Hill played with those guys for over 50 years, and it’s kind of amazing that he gave them his blessing to keep going. It won’t be the same, but I bet it’ll still be damn good.

Bob Odenkirk is alive! He collapsed on Tuesday while filming the final season of Better Call Saul, and all day Wednesday the internet held its collective breath until we got word that he’s in stable condition following a “heart-related incident.”

At first we were like:

But then were like:

“Heart-related incident” seems vague. I don’t know if that means he had a heart attack or what, but I really hope he’ll be okay. Right now I don’t care about BCS or anything else. That’s just make-believe. This is the man’s life.

Yesterday I told you how much Odenkirk’s comedy, and his example, mean to me. He’s always been so driven, and he’s always walked his own path even when it seemed like nobody else was following him. I love his work, but his health is more important. Get well soon, Bob.

Also, Nobody is really fun and you should watch it ASAP. I wish I could’ve seen it in a theater, but that damn Chinese virus ruined 2020. It’s a great little action-comedy with some really clever surprises, and unlike some of the crabby critics, I thought the second half worked wonderfully. Odenkirk’s soulful performance as the downbeat dad/secret assassin keeps the whole thing from flying to pieces. You really believe this guy lives in this world, no matter how ridiculous things get, and watching Odenkirk let loose is just magnificent.

He’s always been a master at channeling his rage for comedic effect, so turning him into an unstoppable killing machine isn’t as much of a leap as you might think:

Plus, Odenkirk worked out like a mofo to play an action dude, so you owe it to him to see the results.

Thanks for reading. Are you tired? I’m kinda tired. I’ve been figuring out how to get this newsletter to you every day at noon like I promised, so I’ve been trying out different sleep schedules. I think “Early to bed, early to rise” might be the way to go — Ben Franklin knew his $#!+ — but I’ve never been a morning person, so I’m relying on copious amounts of coffee and panic-fueled adrenaline. It’s sort of like my early days at the Daily Caller, when I would get up very early every morning to write that daily e-mail newsletter. Except this time I’m not hobbling into an office building on crutches after braving a crumbling public-transit system.

I’m not complaining, mind you. There are a lot worse jobs I could have. But this is a job, and I’m doing it to the best of my ability. Just so you know.

And you also know the drill! Please subscribe, share, etc. I need your help if I’m going to keep doing this. If you’ve read all the way to the bottom of this newsletter, it’s time to reach all the way to the bottom of your pocket. And your contact list.


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Give me a break, I took two years of high school Spanish and that was a loooooong time ago. Plus, of course, I’m a racist.


Come to think of it, Biden becoming a woman might be a good idea! His presidency isn’t going so well, and I’m sure he’s getting tired of the constant criticism from everyone but his fellow Democrats in the media. “Transitioning” would be a great way to silence dissent, because transgendered people are a protected class and you’re not allowed to say anything they don’t want to hear.

President Jo Biden? Why not? Estrogen therapy might even help regrow her scalp hair, so she wouldn’t need those goofy-looking plugs anymore. If not, going from El Presidente to La Presidenta would give her an excuse to start wearing wigs.

And hell, her middle name is already Robinette!


My moral superiority is hard-earned. My stereotyping is diligent. My snark is at least half-headed. Nice try, though!