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A day in the life of Jair Bolsonaro, the fascist monster and whatever else you want*

Every day she does everything the same

Shakes me at six o’clock in the morning

Me smiles a punctual smile

And kisses me with a mint mouth


– “Daily life” , by the genius Chico Buarque

When elected, with the help of fake and rigged ballot boxes by the elite who could no longer bear to see an employee at Disney, the very intelligent, very patient and very Machiavellian Jair Bolsonaro realized the possibility of realizing a childhood dream instilled by his grandfather, the same one who fought alongside the Nazis in Germany: to destroy Brazil.

And it is with this purpose that he wakes everyone up every day, brushing his vampire teeth (Temer’s inheritance) with a Cesium-based paste 137, before gorging himself on bread with overpriced condensed milk. Still at the table, Bolsonaro checks the latest statistics on deaths from Covid. “Didn’t anyone die yesterday? No members of oppressed minorities? Ah, what a shame!”, he laments, while the first lady, known to be fundamentalist, speaks in tongues.

After a quick meeting to discuss the split with her sons Flávio and Eduardo , Bolsonaro calls the Defense Minister and demands that the presidential plane take off from the gardens of Palácio da Alvorada, destroying the beautiful red star that the late Dona Marisa had installed there, at the time when Brazil was ruled by authorities full of empathy. Ah, I miss PT!

Bolsonaro has the plane refueled with the most expensive and polluting diesel available. When they explain that the plane uses kerosene, not diesel, Bolsonaro gets mad and orders the attendants of the Air Force to be tortured. Once on board, by the way, he calls the president of Petrobras and orders the price of fuel to be increased. Then, laughing, he calls the ultra-liberal capitalist Paulo Guedes and tells him to increase inflation and interest rates. “Paulinho, can we increase the unemployment rate?”, he asks Posto Ipiranga. Guedes doesn’t answer because he’s busy devaluing the real to make gains in his famous off-shore companies.

Fed up with the picanha that the poor can no longer buy, despite the immense herd maintained by agribusiness that destroys the ozone layer, Bolsonaro continues his journey to the Amazon. Along the way, he occasionally opens the window to strafe the quilombola communities and indigenous villages.

The genocider then lands on a clandestine airstrip used by niobium miners. . As soon as he gets off the plane, Bolsonaro is greeted by a crowd of fascists who, right there, organizes a motorcycle company. The roar of Harley-Davidsons engines scares the world’s last pair of Spix’s Macaws and the smoke from the exhausts is confused with the burning, whose soot in a few days will hide the sun of São Paulo.

After burning a lot of gasoline, contributing to global warming, Bolsonaro attacks the STF with an improvised speech. “I will continue to act within the four lines of the Constitution!”, threatens the tyrant. On a box that doubles as a platform, Bolsonaro commits another crime, murdering the Portuguese language with thousands of errors of agreement and regency. Amazing how this ómi num asserts the plural!

All this takes almost a whole day. It is 16 hours when Bolsonaro decides to “work” – for the country’s harm. He gathers the militiamen of the region and, wielding a chainsaw powered by the tears of pink dolphins, sets about tearing down the pristine forest. “Madeeeeeeira!”, he shouts, before knocking down a 800m high jequitibá tree. Half an hour later, an area equivalent to two cities in São Paulo lies on the Amazonian soil, ready to turn into the charcoal that will roast the meat of cattle. The global average temperature increases by 3 degrees. Rains punish the Sahara desert.

Back in Brasilia, this monument of Soviet brutalism unfortunately vilified by the neointegralists today in power, Bolsonaro dines as if nothing had happened. A totally anti-vegan dinner, just to tease. Notice how he holds his fork and knife like a homophobic, misogynist bricklayer! Without even asking permission to leave the table, the denialist performs his traditional live alongside a conservative country singer who sings an ode to the agricultural oligarchies. Where is the Alexandre de Moraes “wall” to defend our democracy when we need him the most?!

Already in bed, he gives his wife a revoltingly monogamous kiss, turns to the side and sleeps the sleep of the wicked. No, “wicked” not because it’s biblical language and everyone knows that Western Civilization is responsible for everything bad in the world. He sleeps the sleep of… of… bogeymen. I hope that, in his nightmares, Bolsonaro sees himself handing the presidential sash to the greatest Tupiniquim leader in the universe. And, by the way, anyone who doesn’t vote for Lula is a fascist. Teje warned.

This is the asterisk of defeat. But, as he even had the president’s son judging the text by its title, he is necessary to make it clear: this text contains generous doses of irony.

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