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.