(Reblogging Michael Jochum) The Man Who Forgot the Room (or, Clots and Prayers in the Oval Age of Confusion)

 

Let’s talk about the photograph taken today, President Donald J. Trump, sitting slack-jawed at a table, eyes half-closed, posture melting into his chair like a wax figure left too close to a Florida window. This isn’t a retired celebrity sighting. This is the current President of the United States, looking for all the world like a man who has forgotten not just where he is, but who he is, and why the room around him keeps stubbornly refusing to turn into a golf cart.

This is the man with the nuclear codes.

This is the man making life-or-death decisions about wars, alliances, famine, immigration, climate, surveillance, and democracy itself...

Not a thankful day for First Nations peoples

I am observing a day of remembrance and mourning for our land's Native Americans. Her first stewards, who loved her, and the cultures we destroyed and women and children and innocents we slaughtered so we could steal their homes and colonize, pollute, and desecrate.

Never forget. It was theirs and we stole it. It belonged to the Choctaw and the Blackfoot and the Nez Perce and the Apache and the Mohican and the Aztec and Inca and Maya and the Inuit and the Miq Maq and so many beautiful civilized nations.

We should really clean it the fuck up and give it back.

"The time has come

To say fair's fair

To pay the rent

To pay our share

The time has come

A fact's a fact

It belongs to them

Let's give it back.."

-Midnight Oil, Beds Are Burning, about the destruction of Australian aboriginal cultures, but it suits our US and south and north of the the border massacres as well.

Embolism now, please. America is waiting.

Not really, since you'd go to fucking Club Fed and live like a goddam king in there.

I'll be happy if you get the death penalty in a court of law as a result of your treason against the US Constitution and your oath of office. I'll be happy if you have a massive fatal embolism during one of your insane and unhinged tirades.

I will be happy when you're in your grave through no help of any but legal channels or your own poor health choices. This is not a threat. This is a prayer. Please, God, prove you exist, strike down this blaspemous, hateful, cum guzzling, son of a whore QUICKLY! Stop his heart with extreme prejudice. Make it painful, make it hurt, make him SUFFER.

Either that, or I will be happy when you lose absolutely everything and are living in a single room occupancy coakroach infested hell down by the fucking docks, subsisting on top ramen and tap water until you die, alone, forgotten, unloved, and unnoticed until your corpse stench informs the nation that its nightmare is finally completely over.

My health is incredibly poor, and right now, my only goal in life is to keep my heart beating and my lungs pumping for 24 hours AFTER your shit stops, you motherfucking slimy, cocksucking, ball nibbling, dog fucking, cat shit eating bastard.

Why? Because I HATE you! M O U S E.

Sedition! Sedition! (picture Tevye here)

 

I'll be FUCKED if I'll be lectured about 'sedition" by the "leaders" who brought us January 6th.

Definitions

 

Charlie Kirk was NOT "assassinated".

Martin Luther King Junior was assassinated. JFK was assassinated. Abraham Lincoln was assassinated.

That motherfucker was SHOT. Like the rabid fucking dog that he was.

Don't fucking smoke

Folks.

I swore I would never do this, because it annoyed me when other people did it to me. But it needs to be said. It needs to be shouted from the rooftops.

Do not smoke. Don't ever smoke. Not even once. Not even occasionally with a beer. Just don't fucking do it.

Here I am with COPD, unable to catch a full breath after stepping one step to my bedside commode to go pee. I am tethered to an oxygen machine day and night. At home that gives me a range of seven feet from the machine at all times. When I go out, I have to carry a small tank that only gives me five hours of oxygen, and dudes, it's fucking HEAVY. I can't burn candles any more, because of the fire danger with the oxygen machine and tanks, neither can anybody in my house. No open flames within 100 feet of my house now, so we can't really barbecue either. You do not want that.

Smoking absolutely contributed a major MAJOR part to my steady downward health slide, and if I could turn back the clock and smack that first cigarette out of 14 year old me's hand, I would do it so fast and so hard the bones might break.

If anybody you love smokes, nag the FUCK out of them to quit. Don't let up. Be an annoying asshole. We are junkies, and we need to be browbeaten into getting our shit together.

And if you smoke, move fucking heaven and earth to get off that shit. If I can help you, I will. I am always here for cheerleading and emotional support as you journey to healthy lungs.

The less time you smoke, the less damage you will do. I smoked for 44 fucking years. In a few years we may be discussing my lung tumors, I just don't know. We're not there yet, but I fear it will come.

Do not be like me.

It is time to shout out the truth.

 

Thank you, Deb Colburn, owner of Nomad, Cambridge and pretentiousl;y fake 79 year old hipster with the screaming fire engine red hair, the stupid glasses, and the designer dogs, for showing me a complete tour of your naked vagina, clitoris included, when I was five and you were 21, and encouraging me to hold and rub your boyfriend's penis and testicles when I was seven and you were 23 or 24. For breaking wooden spoons on my ass. For telling everybody I was a crazy liar so that they didn't believe me when I told them what you were doing to me.

For driving a wedge between me and my sister, and my father. For driving my mother away, then abandoning us when you had your own kid.

I hope you die bleeding painfully from your asshole.

I think I'll send this letter to the Cambridge Chronicle, Boston Globe, and WBZ news.

Bet you voted for Trump, too. Cunt.

Shit is going to get real, Deb. I won't hurt you or encourage people to. I'll just drive you batshit crazy.

Pneumonia

 I could not breathe worth a damn for a couple of days, and finally had a major crisis where I could not catch my breath at all.

Called an ambulance, they started oxygen and took me in.

Long story short, I have pneumonia.

I'll be here for a few more days, but I AM going to be fine.

THE “TOLLWAY OF DOUBLETHINK" (Reblog: Robert Hawks)

I was walking this morning, turning over yesterday’s little political vaudeville act in my head, Donald Trump stepping out with great fanfare to announce that, in the spirit of lowering your Thanksgiving grocery bill, he’s rescinding tariffs on agricultural imports.

Touching, right? 

Marjorie Taylor Greene Didn’t Become a Hero. She Just Became More Dangerous (Reblog Michael Jochum)

Marjorie Taylor Greene is not having a “moment of clarity.”

She is not awakening.

She is not evolving.

Reblog: Robert Hawks, Truth Social Post

WHY and I ask this with GREAT FRUSTRATION, GREAT SADNESS, and frankly a level of OUTRAGE that only a TRUE PATRIOT can understand why is EVERYBODY, especially the Crooked Radical Left Lunatic Democrat SICKOS, still yapping nonstop about Epstein Epstein Epstein, like demented parrots with brain worms, when a MUCH BIGGER, MUCH MORE IMPORTANT, MUCH MORE COSMIC situation is developing right above their tiny little heads?

Sonnet: Donnie the Diaper Man & JD the Wonder Nanny

 

Donnie the Diaper Man, a grown-up squish,

Parades in Pampers, proud and full of pride.

He fills his Depends with a toddler’s wish,

Then waddles off, unbothered, dignified.

His throne? A beanbag, crusted, damp, and low.

His scepter? Teething ring from '92.

He grunts, then calls for JD - “Time to go!”

The Wonder Nanny storms in, wipes in two.

He lifts Don's legs with grace and seasoned flair,

While humming lullabies through clenched regret.

He’s changed more men than diapers, unaware

That Donnie’s leaks are just the warm-up set.

So let this tale of shame and wipes be sung -

A man, a nanny, and a very damp bung.

Sonnet: Donny Sucking Down A Billy Dog Outside the Tasty Freeze

Outside the Freeze, where neon hums and spits,

Stands Donny, clutching glory in his grip -

A Billy dog, with mustard, relish bits,

Its sacred grease now glistening on his lip.

The summer dusk ignites the parking lot,

As Donny leans against the faded wall.

His supper? Just this dog, still piping hot,

A feast for kings, though humble in its sprawl.

He chews with reverence, a slow delight,

Each bite a hymn to hunger’s sweet release.

No need for forks, no napkin in the night -

Just Donny, sauce-stained, basking in his peace.

Let others chase their fame or gourmet dreams,

He’s found his joy in "Tasty Freeze" extremes.

A letter to the president

To Donald J. Trump,

You’ve always fancied yourself a master of branding, but the only legacy you’ve cemented is one of disgrace. The Epstein files - now flooding Congress thanks to bipartisan pressure - paint a damning portrait of proximity, silence, and cowardice.

I got your name written here in a Rose Tattoo..

I wanted to get my husband's name tattooed on, but he was really against the idea. So I got a rose, to commemorate the day we fell in love, in the San Mateo Rose Garden in California, surrounded by what we call Fire Roses (red roses that changed in a gradient to yellow at the petal tips)...

Reblogging Michael Jochum: Operation Southern Spear: War as Distraction, Death as Policy

There is a particular stench that rises off an administration when the walls start closing in, a sour, metallic odor of panic disguised as strength. And nowhere is that stench more pungent than in the Trump administration’s latest catastrophe: Operation Southern Spear, a military escalation in the Caribbean so reckless, so grotesquely disproportionate, that even calling it “policy” feels like affording it too much dignity...

Mrs. Obama is a CLASS act! DAMN! Do I miss that First Family! Reblog Occupy Democrats

This piece is from Occupy Democrats:

BREAKING: Michelle Obama torches Donald Trump for corruptly accepting gifts and lowering the "standard" of behavior for the presidency — all without mentioning him by name.

This was a masterclass in throwing shade...

“When you are the commander in chief, there’s a standard at which you have to set for the American people. And some of these things aren’t even laws — they’re just norms,” Obama said at the Sixth & I synagogue and arts center in D.C.

“They’re just things that you do because you don’t want the people to feel like wealthy people have a different level of access and access to power,” she continued. "So that means you got to say ‘no’ a lot."

"Our motto was: If it looks like fun, we can’t do it," Mrs. Obama added...

Reblog: Michael Jochum, The Trump Denial Carnival SATIRE

 

A Totally Different Donald Trump, Believe Me. After all, have I ever lied to the American people?

Let me tell you something, folks, and I’m saying this very strongly, the so-called “emails” from Jeffrey Epstein (who I hardly knew, barely met, maybe shook his hand once while sprinting away at tremendous speed), these emails are OBVIOUSLY talking about a different Donald Trump. A completely different guy. Could be an accountant. Could be a plumber. Could be one of those losers who legally change their names just to feel special. Happens all the time. 

Very sad.

I do it for FREE, Motherfuckers!

 

I am not a paid dissident and political activist.

I proudly do this for FREE!

You should, too.

Because FUCK Trump!

Fuck him in the EAR!

DO NOT COMPLY!

Discovering the News of the Day and Ditching the TV

Apollo 11 takeoff

As a kid, I didn't pay a lot of attention to the news, even though it was the sixties and seventies, and a hell of a lot of history was happening.

The first major event I remember was the moon shot. Not the landing, the takeoff. My Dad told me to pay attention and remember this, because it was history. I didn't even know what history was. I was four and a half. The smoke and speed of it all amazed me. We watched it on our neighbor's big black and white TV. Looking at color photos now, I think that that would have absolutely blown my preschool mind!

They're such fucking hypocrites

On July 7, 2016, the night of the shooting deaths of five Dallas police officers, former U.S. Congressman Joe Walsh wrote a tweet stating "This is now war. Watch out Obama. Watch out Black Lives Matter punks. Real America is coming after you".

And they freaked out over 86 47. Seriously? Dudes, when I worked as a cocktail waitress in Boston, to 86 somebody meant to refuse them service. It did not mean to harm them in any way. Just refuse to serve them.

Thepiss gargling assholes had no problem with Trump retweeting trucks that pictured Biden painted on them, appearing to be tied up and gagged. Don't they see how this fucking looks? Don't they care?

No, of course they don't care. Absolute pieces of shit that they are.

I fucking hate them all.

Reblogging Jim Heath: Trump and Epstein's Bromance

🚨 BREAKING: TRUMP “SPENT HOURS” AT EPSTEIN’S HOUSE — NEW EMAILS RAISE TROUBLING QUESTIONS 🚨

House Republicans on Wednesday released 23,000 pages of documents from Jeffrey Epstein’s estate — but only after Democrats dropped bombshell emails suggesting Donald Trump knew far more about Epstein’s sex trafficking operation than he’s ever admitted...

Oi. Hassles.

 

Welp.

We need a new roof. That's $7,000. Fortunately, my Mother In Law can take care of that and our damn car.

The car literally dropped its belly completely to the pavement today. The front end of it, anyway.

$150 for a check to see what's going on. $970 to fix it to the point it will JUST run, no guarantees for how long. And they say after it's at that point, they can give us a quote for how much to handle the problem entirely. UGH! ... (more inside)

Speak Up While You Still Can, but be aware

You know you're living in seriously fucked up times when suddenly you are afraid to post what you think about the governmental leaders.

Every time I post about hating that orange fucker, I wonder if this is the one that will get the goddam feds to show up at my door and drag me away.

At the same time, I refuse to be silenced. I damn well speak my mind until they drag me away from my keyboard, put me up against a fucking wall, and fill me with bullets.

This insanity is not normal, folks. It's not freedom. It's not legal. And it's not RIGHT.

Be afraid, be very afraid. But DO NOT let the fascists silence you!

Chronic illness can bite my shiny pink ass

And my shit health progresses.

I can no longer sleep when I lie down, because I struggle to get complete breaths, then wake up fully due to hypoxia, fighting to catch a breath.

I was up all night like this. And this was far from the first night. So I told Sam shit needs to change...

Does it get any cuter?

 

NOPE! :)

That's my spot!

Romeo thinks he is Sheldon Cooper.

If Cubby is curled up next to me and Romeo decides it's time to be on the bed, the little shit starts yapping at Cubby "You're in my spot! YOU'RE IN MY SPOT!" until I tell Cubby he needs to move. Then Romeo jumps up and curls up in the spot. For two minutes, before he moves over to lay on my pillow.

He's an absolute little shit. But he's cute, so I allow him to live.

War Crimes Against Children

 

A father carries the corpse of his 18 month old daughter - 18 months

My Jewish friends are going to block me, I'm sure.

What's going on over there is fucking awful. Yes, Hamas has committed atrocities. Yes, they took hostages. Yes, they have killed people.

Meanwhile, 6 Israeli children have died in this conflict, and that is fucking HORRIBLE! It is it's fucking horrible and horrifying and terrible and should have never happened. And there is NO excuse for the deaths of children in a conflict.

Meanwhile, we have this, from Save the Children (follow link):