This is catching the MOAM's attention today….. when a sitcom legend accepts a charity founders award and spends the microphone wishing the president a heart attack on the toilet, we have left the gala and checked into the ward.
What was said
On Saturday, Sep 26, 2026, producer Chuck Lorre — the “King of Sitcoms” behind The Big Bang Theory and Two and a Half Men — accepted a rare founders award at Project Angel Food’s Angel Awards in Los Angeles. The Hollywood Reporter covered the speech. Fair game to thank donors, plug meals, even needle both parties. Lorre went somewhere else.
Exact words, as reported by The Hollywood Reporter:
“Sure, I’d love to stand here and talk about my deep yearning for a more compassionate government, one that prioritizes the health and welfare of its citizens. But the burden of my profession demands that I take this opportunity to say a few words about that bloated orange piece of s--t in the White House.”
Then the morning ritual:
“I’d love to express my gratitude to all the people who’ve devoted their lives to making Project Angel Food an oasis for those in need. That would be my preference. But because I’m a comedy writer, I have no choice but to explain how I wake up every morning to turn on CNN to see if the president of the United States had a heart attack while straining to take a dump.”
He also unloaded a crude personal attack on First Lady Melania Trump (comparing her unfavorably to Michelle Obama in terms too nasty to reprint here), jabbed Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr., and closed with a rewritten “serenity prayer” calling Trump a “Russian asset who traded teenagers with Jeffrey Epstein” — asserted as a joke, with no evidence offered on stage.
Sources: The Hollywood Reporter · The Daily Beast, Sep 28, 2026
Context (not spin)
Project Angel Food does real work — medically tailored meals for people facing critical illness. The night raised over a million dollars. Lorre’s philanthropy on that campus is substantial. None of that requires a charity microphone to become a bathroom-comedy open mic about hoping the sitting president dies on the toilet.
You can dislike Trump. You can dislike Melania. You can dislike RFK Jr.’s vaccine views. Argue the policy. Write the op-ed. Vote in November. What you don’t get — not if you still want anybody outside the parking-lot stage to take the “compassion” pitch seriously — is to dress up a daily death-wish as the burden of comedy writing. That’s not holding power to account. That’s the syndrome with a laugh track.
MOAM’s diagnosis
Severity: TERMINAL.
When the punchline is “I check CNN every morning to see if he had a heart attack on the can,” we are past sharp satire and into the ward cafeteria. Comedy can punch up. Charity nights can raise money. Neither needs a scatological assassination fantasy as the gratitude speech. Down here in Marblehead we still know the difference between a roast and a diagnosis. Save the toilet jokes for the writers’ room. Save the gala for the people who need the meals.
MOAM Out.
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