Biblical Bullshit: The Full Catalog of Biblical Incest

The Bible is hailed as the ultimate moral guide, a divine instruction manual for righteous living. But if you actually read the damn thing, what you get is a parade of incestuous unions, patriarchal loopholes, and divine silence that would make any modern ethics board spontaneously combust.

If you still think the Bible is a moral guide, buckle up. This isn’t a gentle unpacking, it’s a full forensic catalog of incest, hypocrisy, and divine silence. From father-daughter drunken sex to cousin marriages passed off as holy lineage, scripture reads like a family reunion hosted in a crime scene. Every name, every blood tie, every moral contradiction laid bare. No cherry-picking. No apologetics. Just the sacred mess, documented and salted for clarity.

Below is the full catalog of incest in the Bible, narrative, inferred, and genealogical. Every name, every blood tie, every moral contradiction that I could track down. Salted. Biblically documented. Undeniable.

DIRECT NARRATIVE CASES (Explicit or Strongly Implied)

1. Lot + His Daughters  

   - Relationship: Father/daughters  

   - Reference: Genesis 19:30–38  

   - Consanguinity: 1st degree  

   - Notes: Daughters get Lot drunk and sleep with him. Twice. Sons born: Moab and Ben-Ammi. No divine punishment. Just legacy.

2. Abraham + Sarah  

   - Relationship: Half-siblings  

   - Reference: Genesis 20:12  

   - Consanguinity: 2nd degree  

   - Notes: Married. Praised. Would be banned under Leviticus. God’s chosen incest.

3. Reuben + Bilhah  

   - Relationship: Son/father’s concubine  

   - Reference: Genesis 35:22  

   - Consanguinity: Stepmother  

   - Notes: Reuben sleeps with Jacob’s concubine. Condemned in Genesis 49:4.

4. Amnon + Tamar  

   - Relationship: Half-brother/half-sister  

   - Reference: 2 Samuel 13  

   - Consanguinity: 2nd degree  

   - Notes: Rape. David does nothing. God says nothing. Absalom kills Amnon.

5. Judah + Tamar  

   - Relationship: Father-in-law/daughter-in-law  

   - Reference: Genesis 38  

   - Consanguinity: Affinal  

   - Notes: Tamar disguises herself. Judah sleeps with her. She gets pregnant. No rebuke.

6. Corinthian Man + Stepmother  

   - Relationship: Stepson/father’s wife  

   - Reference: 1 Corinthians 5:1  

   - Consanguinity: Affinal  

   - Notes: Paul condemns it. One of the few times incest gets called out.

INFERRED OR GENEALOGICAL CASES (Early Humanity, Patriarchal Lineage)

7. Cain + His Wife  

   - Relationship: Sibling or niece  

   - Reference: Genesis 4:17  

   - Consanguinity: 1st or 2nd degree  

   - Notes: No other humans mentioned. Population logic demands incest.

8. Seth + His Wife  

   - Relationship: Sibling or niece  

   - Reference: Genesis 4:25–26  

   - Consanguinity: 1st or 2nd degree  

   - Notes: Same population constraint. No condemnation.

9. Noah’s Sons + Their Wives  

   - Relationship: Nephews/aunts or cousins  

   - Reference: Genesis 6:18  

   - Consanguinity: Unknown but intra-family  

   - Notes: Humanity rebooted via incest. Divine plan.

10. Isaac + Rebekah  

    - Relationship: First cousins once removed  

    - Reference: Genesis 24:15  

    - Consanguinity: 3rd degree  

    - Notes: Rebekah is granddaughter of Abraham’s brother.

11. Jacob + Leah/Rachel  

    - Relationship: First cousins  

    - Reference: Genesis 29  

    - Consanguinity: 3rd degree  

    - Notes: Sisters. Daughters of Laban, Rebekah’s brother.

12. Esau + Mahalath  

    - Relationship: First cousins  

    - Reference: Genesis 28:9  

    - Consanguinity: 3rd degree  

    - Notes: Mahalath is daughter of Ishmael, Abraham’s son.

13. David + Michal  

    - Relationship: First cousins  

    - Reference: 1 Samuel 18:27  

    - Consanguinity: 3rd degree  

    - Notes: Michal is daughter of Saul, David’s uncle.

14. David + Abigail  

    - Relationship: Possibly cousin  

    - Reference: 1 Samuel 25  

    - Consanguinity: Unknown  

    - Notes: Lineage debated. Likely kin.

15. Solomon + Royal Wives  

    - Relationship: Foreign and possibly kin  

    - Reference: 1 Kings 11  

    - Consanguinity: Political incest  

    - Notes: Hundreds of wives. Royal alliances often involved family ties.

LEGAL PROHIBITIONS (Leviticus 18 & 20)

Leviticus bans sex with:

- Parent or child

- Sibling (full or half)

- Grandparent or grandchild

- Aunt/uncle and niece/nephew

- In-laws (father’s wife, brother’s wife)

- Step-relations (stepmother, stepsister)

- Mother and daughter simultaneously

These laws were written long after the patriarchs had already built Israel’s bloodline on incest, because Gawd hadn't sorted his shit out yet. Or something. Retroactive morality isn’t morality, it’s damage control.

THEOLOGICAL WHIPLASH

What’s condemned in Leviticus is celebrated in Genesis. What’s punished in Corinth is ignored in Jerusalem. The Bible doesn’t offer a timeless moral code, it offers a tribal mess of shifting standards, divine favoritism, and incestuous legacy-building.

If incest is wrong, then the Bible is guilty. If incest is wrong in Leviticus, it sure as shit is wrong in Genesis, and an omniscient God would have made that clear THEN instead as an OH! By the WAY! generations later. If morality is absolute, then scripture is a contradiction. And if this book is supposed to guide our ethics, we’d better be ready to explain why God’s favorites kept marrying their fucking cousins, raping their sisters, and sleeping with their stepmothers without so much as a divine slap on the wrist.

So, yeah, it turns out the Bible is just chock full of incest. It goes beyond the obvious "oops, got my dad drunk" moments and is a recurring theme in the patriarchs' lives, especially with cousins. It was the preferred way to do things before the laws in Leviticus came along and said, "Okay, we have enough people now, maybe don't bang your relatives."

The Bible may be sacred. But it’s not clean. And it sure as FUCK isn’t consistent.

This is the first in a series of Biblical Bullshit articles in the works.

She Didn’t Marry Her Rapist. She Burned the Fucking Script.

In 1966, Franca Viola didn’t just refuse to marry her rapist, she detonated the entire rotten scaffolding of Italy’s bullshit "honor" culture. She was 17. She had been kidnapped, beaten, and raped repeatedly by Filippo fucking Melodia, a mafia-adjacent scumbucket who thought he could force her into a “rehabilitating marriage” to restore her “honor.” That was the law. That was the custom. That was the grotesque social contract: rape her, then marry her, and walk free. And then he could rape her every night for the rest of her life, and nobody would bat a motherfucking eye.

Franca Viola said "FUCK no!"

She said no to Melodia. No to the courts. No to the townspeople who burned her family’s barn and vineyard in retaliation. No to the centuries of patriarchal rot that taught women their worth was measured in virginity and silence. She stood in court and named her rapist. She refused the paciata (the appeasement ritual). She chose justice over shame, legacy over fear.

And her family paid the price.

Her father Bernardo Viola didn’t force her to marry her rapist. He didn’t cave to mafia threats or social pressure. He asked her what she wanted, and when she said no, he backed her with every ounce of strength he had. For that act of integrity, the Viola family was ostracized, menaced, and persecuted by their own community. Their property was torched. Their name was dragged. Because in a piece of shit society that worships “honor,” protecting your daughter makes you a traitor.

But Franca didn’t just survive. She lived.

Years later, she married a man she *chose*, Giuseppe Ruisi, her childhood friend. They built a life together, raised children, and stayed rooted in Alcamo, the same town that once tried to shame her into silence. Her legacy is not just defiance, it’s reclamation! She didn’t vanish. She didn’t hide. She stayed, she loved, and she thrived.

Filippo Melodia was convicted. He served a fraction of what he deserved. He died in a mafia hit years later, and no one mourned. Good fucking riddance to the rapey rapist motherfucker.

But the real reckoning isn’t his death. It’s the legacy Franca Viola carved with her refusal. She became a symbol of resistance, of absolute surgical clarity, of rage that refuses to be domesticated. Her story is a scalpel to the throat of every society that still asks, “What was she wearing?” or “Did she fight back?”

She fought. She won. And she never apologized.

Gollum in a Gucci Gown: The Face That Launched a Thousand Screams

When you start looking like fucking Gollum, maybe it's time to stop with the plastic surgery?

Once upon a time, Madonna Ciccone was a lovely looking woman. Fresh faced, classic movie star looks. And she was aging pretty gracefully for a while there. Then somewhere along the way, she got this idea that she would look even better if she had some "work" done. Now she looks like she needs to move to a cave in Middle Earth.

Botox, fillers, scalpels, peels. She's had so much shit done to her poor fucking face that she probably bought a doctor or three brand new Cybertrucks and Lear Jets. And she ended up looking like something out of a child's worst nightmares. That's not good surgery, that's fucking malpractice and poor decision making on public display.

Tell me what the FUCK is wrong with looking older? Why are wrinkles so detested by so many people who develop them? How can these people imagine that plastic surgery makes them attractive? 

Look at Jamie Lee Curtis. LOOK at her! When she was 25 years old, a cinematographer told her that her eyes were baggy, so she decided to get some fillers. She immediately hated the result, and swore off all future work. Jamie Lee is 66 years old now, and just absolutely fucking BEAUTIFUL. She SHINES! Her hair is white. Her face has wrinkles. She looks her age, dammit. And she's still one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen on a screen. She's timeless.

I wish women would stop turning themselves into freaks. Embrace who the fuck you are. You earned your wrinkles and sags. Wear them with PRIDE!

It's somewhat strange to me that Jamie Lee Curtis started her career as a scream queen, but Madonna is FINISHING her own as one.

Kirk SAID This Shit! Verbal Diarrhea from A Fucking Asshole.

This is the motherfucker that the MAGA fucks want to beatify. Racist, Misogynist, hateful piece of shit. These are his own goddam words. I got the list from The Guardian, which pulled them from the motherfucker's podcast.

---

On race:

If I see a Black pilot, I’m going to be like, boy, I hope he’s qualified.

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 23 January 2024

If you’re a WNBA, pot-smoking, Black lesbian, do you get treated better than a United States marine?

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 8 December 2022

Happening all the time in urban America, prowling Blacks go around for fun to go target white people, that’s a fact. It’s happening more and more.

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 19 May 2023

If I’m dealing with somebody in customer service who’s a moronic Black woman, I wonder is she there because of her excellence, or is she there because of affirmative action?

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 3 January 2024

If we would have said that Joy Reid and Michelle Obama and Sheila Jackson Lee and Ketanji Brown Jackson were affirmative action picks, we would have been called racists. Now they’re coming out and they’re saying it for us … You do not have the brain processing power to otherwise be taken really seriously. You had to go steal a white person’s slot to go be taken somewhat seriously.

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 13 July 2023

On gun violence:

I think it’s worth it to have a cost of, unfortunately, some gun deaths every single year so that we can have the second amendment to protect our other God-given rights. That is a prudent deal. It is rational.

– Event organized by TPUSA Faith, the religious arm of Kirk’s conservative group Turning Point USA, on 5 April 2023

On immigration:

America was at its peak when we halted immigration for 40 years and we dropped our foreign-born percentage to its lowest level ever. We should be unafraid to do that.

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 22 August 2025

The American Democrat party hates this country. They wanna see it collapse. They love it when America becomes less white.

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 20 March 2024

The great replacement strategy, which is well under way every single day in our southern border, is a strategy to replace white rural America with something different.

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 1 March 2024

On debate:

We record all of it so that we put [it] on the internet so people can see these ideas collide. When people stop talking, that’s when you get violence. That’s when civil war happens, because you start to think the other side is so evil, and they lose their humanity.

– Kirk discussing his work in an undated clip that circulated on X after his killing.

Prove me wrong.

– Kirk’s challenge to students to publicly debate him during the tour of colleges he was on when he was assassinated.

On gender, feminism and reproductive rights

Reject feminism. Submit to your husband, Taylor. You’re not in charge.

– Discussing news of Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce’s engagement on The Charlie Kirk Show, 26 August 2025

The answer is yes, the baby would be delivered.

– Responding to a question about whether he would support his 10-year-old daughter aborting a pregnancy conceived because of rape on the debate show Surrounded, published on 8 September 2024

– On Transgender medical care.

We need to have a Nuremberg-style trial for every gender-affirming clinic doctor. We need it immediately.

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 1 April 2024

On Islam:

America has freedom of religion, of course, but we should be frank: large dedicated Islamic areas are a threat to America.

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 30 April 2025

We’ve been warning about the rise of Islam on the show, to great amount of backlash. We don’t care, that’s what we do here. And we said that Islam is not compatible with western civilization.

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 24 June 2025

Islam is the sword the left is using to slit the throat of America.

– Charlie Kirk social media post, 8 September 2025

On religion

There is no separation of church and state. It’s a fabrication, it’s a fiction, it’s not in the constitution. It’s made up by secular humanists.

– The Charlie Kirk Show, 6 July 2022

Non-Scale VICTORY, Bitches!

Non-Scale victory!

I didn't think I've been losing any weight on the Ozempic. I cannot stand on my scale to find out, due to pain. So, yeah.

Welp.

Guess what?

Yesterday, my wedding rings fell RIGHT off my fingers. RIGHT off. I put them back on, they fell off again.

My rings are sterling silver, so they're cheap to replace. I ordered a new pair in a smaller size, they'll be here tomorrow.

Pic is the rings that won't stay on. New ones are identical, but smaller, and for now, shinier

FUCK YEAH!

Don’t waste your Libtard New Age Empathy on Charlie, folks. He didn't want it!

Charlie Kirk made his positions very clear while he was alive. One was: “I think empathy is a made up New Age term that does a lot of damage.” That wasn’t satire. That was strategy. He didn’t misunderstand empathy. He flat-out rejected it. Not because it failed, but because it interfered. Empathy demanded accountability. It disrupted the performance of cruelty. It ruined the punchline when the punchline was someone else’s pain.

Charlie Kirk built a platform on contempt and called it courage. He monetized mockery and called it truth. He weaponized detachment and called it clarity. This wasn’t rebellion. It was auditioning for power. And every time he dismissed empathy as weakness, he revealed exactly what kind of strength he admired.

Empathy wasn’t his failure. It was the firewall he refused to install. And now that he’s gone, we’re left with the wreckage of what happens when that firewall is missing.

I have no fucking empathy for him. I am sorry for the pain his wife and kids are experiencing in the now, but let's be real, here:

My husband's wife died when their kids were 3, 6, 9, and 12. When he told them she'd died, the 3 year old cried for five minutes, then asked to watch some godawful kids show and never again cried about her. Out of sight, out of mind. The 6 year old stopped grieving in less than six months. The nine year old was no longer grieving by the time I joined the family two years later. The 12 year old still grieves on some level, he is 36 now and was very much Mama's boy, so that makes sense. None of the three younger ones really remember her very much. 3 year old (now 27) not at all, 6 year old (now 30) one memory of her spanking him, 9 year old (now 33) a couple of memories of roller skating and talking about Hello Kitty.

So while I'm sorry for the pain Kirk's kids are feeling at the moment, I'm pretty damn sure they won't even remember it later in life. His wife is another story. But if she's much like him, I fucking well have no empathy to spare for her, either.

Maybe that makes me a stone cold bitch. So be it.

Time to put this motherfucker firmly in the past. May his name be forgotten, may his legacy be erased. May all memory of him and all vestiges of him disappear from this planet. Leave him in the sewer treatment facility of history, where he belongs.

Quora Is a Troll Farm, Not a Forum

Quora is rotting from the inside out. Once a space for genuine questions and thoughtful answers, it’s now a cesspool of troll-bait, fake dilemmas, and performative idiocy designed to provoke outrage and harvest engagement.

Case in point: “I caught my 13-year-old daughter using pads for her period without my permission. What do I do now?”  

My reply was: "Are you fucking serious? What was she supposed to do? Bleed down her leg? Sit in a puddle of blood until Daddy grants her access to basic hygiene? No person with a functioning brain thinks anyone, of any age, needs permission to use sanitary products."

And this isn’t an isolated incident. Quora is flooded with these bait-posts: “My son came out as gay, should I kick him out?” “My wife gained weight, can I cheat?” “My daughter wants to wear pants, how do I stop her?” These aren’t real questions. They’re rage-farming algorithms disguised as discourse. They exist to piss people off, rack up comments, and keep the outrage machine churning.

Quora isn’t a knowledge base anymore. It’s a fucking troll farm with a search bar. And every time we engage, even to call out the bullshit, we feed it. So here’s the deal: I’ll keep calling it out, because I’m no longer pretending this platform deserves respect. It’s not a forum. It’s a landfill. And I’m here to name the trash.

Charlie Kirk Got Shot Today. The Chickens Are Coming Home to Roost.

Charlie Kirk, the smug-faced piss-gargling asshole founder of Turning Point USA, got shot in the neck today at Utah Valley University. Mid-event, mid-rant, mid-whatever-the-fuck he was spewing, someone fired a round from 200 yards out and dropped him. He was rushed to Timpanogos Regional Hospital in critical condition and died hours later. He was 31.

Initial reports claimed a suspect had been taken into custody, but police now confirm that the man detained was not the shooter. The actual gunman remains at large, and the investigation is ongoing. The shot was fired from a building across campus, and authorities are still trying to identify who pulled the trigger.

Meanwhile, the headlines are already frothing with “thoughts and prayers” and “political violence” and “how did we get here?” as if this country hasn’t been fucking boiling over with rage and hypocrisy for years.

Let me be clear: I’m not celebrating. I don’t cheer for shooters. I don’t glorify violence. But I’m also not shedding a single tear for motherfucker Charlie Kirk. The man built his asshole brand on division, on smug superiority, on weaponizing youth and ignorance into a political machine that feeds off outrage and misinformation. He spent years punching down, mocking the vulnerable, and turning campuses into battlegrounds for his performative bullshit. And now that the chaos he helped cultivate turned on him, the same people who laughed at others’ pain want us to cry for his?

FUCK no.

Just seconds before Charlie-boy was hit, a student asked:

“Do you know how many transgender Americans have been mass shooters over the last 10 years?”

Kirk replied:

“Too many.”

Then, when asked about total mass shootings, he added:

“Counting or not counting gang violence?”

That was his final sentence, cut off mid-smug by the bullet.

Let's just watch MAGA now try to pin this on the trans community. Because you fucking KNOW they will, those slimy, filthy, hemorrhoids on the asshole of America.

This isn’t karma. It’s consequence. It’s what happens when you play with fire and pretend you’re immune to the burn. Kirk  damn well doesn’t deserve sainthood, he was a piece of shit. And I refuse to join the chorus of sanitized sympathy just because the violence finally landed on someone with a microphone.

The internet wasted no time dragging receipts. A viral tweet resurfaced Kirk’s own words: “I think it's worth to have a cost of, unfortunately, some gun deaths every single year so that we can have the Second Amendment to protect our other God-given rights.” That quote now sits next to a photo of him recoiling mid-shot, wearing a shirt that says “FREEDOM.” You can’t script irony this fucking savage. He defended the cost and then paid it.

And now Trump’s ordered the fucking flag lowered for Charlie Kirk. Lowered. As if this smug, divisive, chaos-peddling asshole deserves the same national reverence as fallen soldiers or civil rights icons. It’s not just inappropriate, it’s fucking shameful. Kirk didn’t die defending the country. He didn’t sacrifice himself for justice or unity. He NEVER did anything for the good of this nation and its people! He died inside the toxic circus he helped build, and now the government’s flying the flag at half-staff like he’s some kind of martyr? Fuck that. This is not honor, it’s political theater, and it spits in the face of every legitimate legacy that flag has ever represented.

We can condemn the act without canonizing the target. We can reject violence without rewriting history to paint Kirk as some innocent thought leader who just wanted “dialogue.” He wanted dominance. He wanted control. And now he’s dead—taken out by the very chaos he helped unleash.

Let’s be brutally fucking clear: Charlie Kirk is no martyr. He didn’t die for a cause. He died inside the chaos he helped engineer. This wasn’t some tragic sacrifice or noble stand. It was the inevitable endpoint of a man who spent years baiting rage, stoking division, and daring the world to hit back. He begged to be a target with every smug broadcast, every campus provocation, every weaponized lie. And now he’s dead. Not because he was brave, but because he was reckless. I won’t rewrite that truth to make anyone feel better.

Annex First, Ask Never: Putin’s DIY Empire Kit

When your empire cosplay gets a map and a microphone but still smells like Cold War leftovers.

Vladimir Putin isn’t trying to resurrect the Soviet Union because he misses the good old days of bread lines and state-run toothpaste. He’s doing it because he wants the fucking empire back. The control. The goddam fear. The geopolitical middle finger to the West. And he’s not fucking subtle about it.

In December 2021, the Kremlin dropped a diplomatic load of shit on NATO’s doorstep: roll back to your 1997 borders or else. Translation? Get your tanks, troops, and treaties the hell out of Eastern Europe. Poland, the Baltics, everyone who joined after the Cold War goes right back in the penalty box. It was a formal demand, not a drunken rant. The West, predictably, told him to shove it.

But Putin wasn’t just bluffing. He’s been building his little empire brick by brick, starting with the Union State, which is a dusty old framework signed with Belarus in 1999 that’s now being used to absorb annexed Ukrainian territories like they’re overdue fucking library books. It’s not communism he’s after. It’s control. Influence. A map that screams "Russia owns this so fuck you!" in bold red ink.

The global reaction? A mix of panic, defiance, and 'are you fucking serious?" Eastern Europe went full porcupine: spikes out, defense budgets up, NATO ties reinforced like grandma’s bridge club after a scandal. Armenia, once a loyal lapdog, realized Moscow wouldn’t lift a freaking finger during regional chaos and started sniffing around for new friends (Hello, Donald Fucking Trump). Kazakhstan and the rest of Central Asia? Quietly ghosting Russia like a bad Tinder date.

This isn’t about ideology. It’s about power. About rewriting borders and flipping the bird to every post-Cold War agreement. Whether Putin ends up with a shiny new empire or a flaming pile of geopolitical regret is still up for grabs. But the world’s not buying the nostalgia act. They see the playbook. And they’re not fucking playing along.

Info for New Facebook Friends

I am posting this on my blog and linking it from my Facebook About section, because they do not show my pinned post (which is set to public) to people who are not on my friend list, for some reason. It's fucking ridiculous. If you are reading this, have a Facebook account, and would like to get to know me there, please read this, and if it doesn't send you screaming in the other direction, drop me an email at bubblybackwash@gmail.com and I'll peep your FB profile and probably add you.

What You’re Getting Into

I’m Jenn. Disabled, autistic, and stacked with enough diagnoses to make a med student cry. I’m a fierce LGBTQIA+ ally, a Mama Bear to my biological, adopted, and chosen kids, and if you mess with them, I will go full medieval on your ass.

This blog bitchslaps fascists, celebrates sexual freedom, and does not cater to minors or MAGA cultists. If you’re racist, homophobic, transphobic, or just generally a bigoted pinecone, get the hell out. My people have survived enough.

I write what I feel, say what I think, and don’t give a damn if it offends you. The internet has a back button. Use it. I don’t care what your god, your president, or your pastor thinks. Love is love. Black lives matter. And the misogynist and racist asshole St. Paul can take a hike.

What I Don’t Tolerate

• MLM parasites and religious spam. Don’t pitch me your “Boss Babe” garbage or try to save my soul. I’m not buying your products and I’m not converting, keep it on your own page, and out of my PMs. Seriously. Spamming me with MLM shit or holy roller evangelism of any stripe is an immediate block.

• Comment drama. Take your petty fights elsewhere. This is my house, not your battleground.

• Scammers and catfishers. I’m poor, married, and not falling for your Jason Momoa cosplay. Blocked.

• Content theft. Ask before you copy and repost to your own feed. Because my posts are friend-locked, Facebook sharing will ONLY show the post you share to my friend list who are on YOUR friendlist, so really, it's not very useful. Memes are fair game, take what you want. My original and artwork writing is not, hyou need to ask.

The Rules (Because Assholes Ruin Everything)

• I swear. I fucking swear a motherfucking LOT. If you can't fucking handle that, don't fucking bother being here. I will not fucking censor myself for a fucking snowflake who can't handle naughty motherfucking words. Deal with it, or fuck off. Feel free to swear when commenting here, but don't be an ass. Those are your options. Period. Also, Tits.

• Don’t insult my friends. Don’t bicker in the comments.

• Don’t steal my shit. It’s copyrighted. Share under Creative Commons with credit and a link.

• Break the rules and I will absolutely mock you publicly and block you permanently.

Final Word

I’m crusty, rude, and unapologetically me. But I’m also loyal, protective, and trying to leave something real behind. If you can handle that, buckle up. It’s not smooth. It’s not pretty. But it’s one hell of a ride.

FUCK TRUMP AND ALL OF MAGA!

Makeup Crimes of the ’70s: Lava Eyeliner and Raccoon Regret

Farrah called. She wants her eyeliner back—and a therapist.

Does anybody wear frosty blue eye shadow any more?

In the '70s, there were four basic shadow colors. Blue, brown, and green. You wore whatever matched your eyes, blue on blue, brown on brown, green on green. I remember my sister going apeshit with joy when purple shadow came along in the mid seventies.

Eyeliner was almost always solid black. It was usually liquid - pencil liner was hard to find - and frankly, it was a bitch to use without smearing. It took minutes to dry during which you couldn't blink or it would smudge and leave you looking like a fucking raccoon. Then Maybelline came along with the little red eyeliner pencil and it was sold everywhere, but the makeup inside the wood casing was hard as fuck and had to be warmed up with a lighted match held close but not TOO close, and not too long or the shit would turn into lava, and blister your eyelids.

Mascara, too, was usually black. Only hippies really wore brown mascara. Around 1975 blue mascara got popular. The blue smudged easily and looked ridiculous, but teen girls went apeshit over it. Mascara comes in so many colors now, it makes the mind of this 60-year-old antique just boggle.

Foundation didn't have many shades: Light, medium orange-ish - Donald Trump's spray tan reminds me of that color. Not many options for POC folks. A lot of older women didn't really use it, they used powder instead - or powder over the top of foundation. That came in the same shades. Both products were thick as hell, oil-based, and hard to blend in so there wouldn't be wild edges or smears. The powder/foundation combination looked thick, like they were wearing fright masks. It was pretty fucking bad.

Lipstick came in basically three colors: bright red, cotton candy pink, or a kind of taupe shade and basic shades of those. In the late sixties and early seventies, white lipstick was a thing - which I in my very opinionated mind, made the women wearing it look like fucking foolish idiots. They had white eyeshadow too, at that time. But let's be real, the mod-glam fashion era was a visual abortion. It made people want to claw their eyes out.

There was lip gloss, which teens fucking LOVED. It was very lightly tinted, and the ones I remember best were two brands, though there were many. One favorite was Bonne Belle Lip Smackers, which came in flavors from strawberry, cherry, and watermelon to Dr Pepper and cotton candy. I loved that shit.

The other really popular gloss was these little gold colored tins with a sliding top. They were called Lip Lickers, came in many flavors, and disappeared some time ago. Tinte Cosmetics makes them now, under the name Vintage Lip Lickers, and has a wide variety of flavors. By all accounts, they're basically identical to the original product.

And then there's nail polish. Let's talk about how manicurists worked in hair salons - not dedicated nail salons. They had no more than ten colors of polish on their station: several pinks, from salmon to Barbie, a few reds, maybe a pearl white, and a clear. That's it.

Nowadays, you walk into a nail shop and they have an entire wall COVERED with nail polishes and powder dip jars. You select your color, bring it to your manicurist, kick back, and let the fun begin. You want glittery green with a neon orange stripe? GO FOR IT!

So that's the history of makeup as I recall it, keeping in mind that I was a young adolescent for most of the 70s, and my memory may be imperfect. Add in that I'm not a big makeup historian, these are my memories.

Also keep in mind that yeah, I'm not a big makeup user, so I've never owned a LOT of it. My sister is the really solid cosmetic pro of my family, not me. Her makeup game is perfection. I've never been a person who wears it every day, not even a little gloss. I really only wear it for weddings and funerals, or when I was younger, going on a date. I'm just not a girly girl. I don't give a fuck about fashion, either.

But I DO observe, and I know what's good makeup and what's bad, and I know good cosmetic use when I see it, and I am a pretty good critic of when clothing looks good. I know what the current and past styles are in all that shit - what rocked and what sucked - even if it's not really something I actively DO.

Truly though, I'm all about my basic black pants and tee shirts, flat black ballet flats, and short, unadorned hair (or the occasional floppy green mohawk).

And maybe a hint of lip gloss if I feel fancy.

Herr Yam Tits

Old Yam Tits is leprosy in human form. He is a suppurating, oozing sore on the genitals of mankind. Among other atrocities, he wants a war very, very badl, anywhere, any time, but his choice if the best time would be yesterday, and is doing everything he can to get one.

I’m tired of pretending this isn’t fascism with a spray tan. Trump isn’t just incompetent or corrupt—he’s actively behaving like a low-rent Hitler cosplay, minus the military discipline and plus a Twitter addiction. And no, I’m not talking about concentration camps or genocide. I’m talking about the early-stage authoritarian playbook. The propaganda, the scapegoating, the cult of personality, the attacks on institutions. It’s all there, and it’s not subtle.

He demonizes the press like it’s a national sport. “Enemy of the people”? Straight out of the fascist starter kit. He mocks judges, undermines the courts, and treats the Constitution like a napkin he sneezed into. He’s built his entire brand on fear, rage, and repetition - just keep lying until the lie feels true. That’s not politics. That’s psychological warfare.

He’s got his own loyalist media echo chamber, pumping out propaganda like it’s Fox News’s full-time job (because it is). He incites mob mentality at rallies, glorifies violence, and dehumanizes anyone who disagrees with him. Immigrants, minorities, journalists, Democrats; everyone’s a threat except the guy with the nuclear codes and the emotional maturity of a yam.

And let’s talk about the militarized cosplay. Sending federal troops into cities under the guise of “law and order”? That’s not leadership. That’s authoritarian foreplay. He’s itching for a war, any war, just to distract from the flaming dumpster fire of his domestic failures. Venezuela, Iran, China. Pick a target, light a match, and hope the smoke covers the stench.

This isn’t just bad governance. It’s a slow-motion coup wrapped in a flag and sold with a MAGA hat. If you’re not alarmed, you’re not paying attention. And if you are paying attention, welcome to the rage spiral. Grab a drink, scream into a pillow, and let’s keep calling this shit what it is: dangerous, deliberate, and depressingly familiar.

Slava Ukraini, Bitches: Trump’s Peace Fantasy vs. Reality

Putin says he’ll only meet with Zelenskyy if the Ukrainian hero and president comes to Moscow.

But Zelenskyy is not a fucking idiot. He has zero desire to be defenestrated like so many of Putin’s “friends” who mysteriously fall out of windows, off balconies, or into sudden cardiac arrest after disagreeing with the Kremlin’s favorite war criminal.

This isn’t diplomacy. It’s hostage theater. Putin’s invitation to Moscow is a trap wrapped in delusion, a PR stunt designed to make him look like a reasonable statesman while he continues bombing Ukrainian cities and slaughtering civilians. The man is a walking war crime with a Napoleon complex and a bunker full of denial.

Meanwhile, Donald Trump has STILL not lived up to his campaign promise.
On Tuesday, September 10, during the debate with Kamala, Old Yam Tits said this regarding Ukraine:

“That is a war that’s dying to be settled. I will get it settled before I even become president. If I win, when I’m president-elect and what I’ll do is I’ll speak to one, I’ll speak to the other, I’ll get them together.”

Like everything he touches, this has turned to absolute shit.
Trump’s fantasy of brokering peace in 24 hours has aged like milk in a sauna. He’s admitted, grudgingly, that ending the war is “probably the most difficult” challenge of his presidency. No shit. Turns out you can’t just throw two nuclear-adjacent egos into a room and expect kumbaya. Especially when one of them is actively bombing the other.

And while Trump waffles between sanctions and photo ops, Ukraine bleeds.
The Ukrainian people, those who haven’t fled, who haven’t buried loved ones, who haven’t been tortured or displaced, continue to resist. Not with empty slogans, but with sabotage, intelligence ops, and guerrilla warfare that makes Russian occupation a living hell. From the Yellow Ribbon movement to underground partisan cells, Ukraine’s resistance is a masterclass in defiance.

So no, Zelenskyy won’t be going to Moscow.
And no, Trump hasn’t settled shit.
But yes. Slava Ukraini, bitches.

And to the heroes: GLORY! (Героям слава!)

Decorated in Shame: The Kotex Collection

You’re scrolling. Innocent. Vulnerable. And then it hits you. A sponsored post from “1001 Knots” featuring a hand-tufted rug that looks like Georgia O’Keeffe had a meltdown in aisle 7 of CVS. There’s a red bloom. White petals. Beige smears. Organic shapes. And one unmistakable visual: a used Kotex, immortalized in wool.

Let’s break it down. The red floral center is a bold choice, but it screams Day 2 of the cycle. The white petal overlay might be aiming for purity, but it’s giving absorbency rating. The beige organic smear is not abstract. It’s trauma. And the black background? That’s the void you stare into while wondering who approved this.

Who is this rug for? The avant-garde gynecologist? The menstruation-themed Airbnb? Someone who said “I want my trauma in tufted form”? And why is it called Abstract in Bloom? Bloom of what? Regret? Ovulation? Sponsored shame?

This rug isn’t just a design. It’s a conversation starter, a cycle tracker, and possibly a cry for help. If you buy it, you’re not just decorating. You’re declaring war on subtlety.

And if you lay this thing down in your living room, just know you’ve invited every guest to silently wonder if your floor is ovulating. It’s not a rug. It’s a menstrual Rorschach test. And if you stare at it long enough, you’ll either achieve enlightenment or start bleeding in sympathy.

It’s the kind of decor that makes your Roomba file for emotional support. Your dog won’t walk on it. Your toddler points and says "uh-oh." Even your houseplants start wilting in solidarity. It’s not just a rug—it’s a woolen omen, a tufted prophecy, a crimson cry woven by the gods of sponsored regret. And if you spill wine on it, congratulations: you’ve just summoned the second coming of the cycle.

I guess I'll see you in 28 days?

Candle sabotage by user error

One wick lit. Three untouched. One quadrant melted like retail logic. The candle obeyed physics. The customer did not

Today in stupid customer tricks:

This belongs in the Retail Trauma Hall of Fame, right next to “I microwaved my loyalty card and now it won’t scan.” 


My friend Lisa works retail on the West Coast.

Today on Facebook, Lisa told me that a woman came into her store to complain about a candle she had purchased.

It seems the candle had melted lopsided, and the customer was displeased.

The candle was a four wick candle, and she was only using ONE wick, and expected it to burn down evenly.

This interaction is a masterclass in customer logic failure; one wick lit, three untouched, and she wanted a wax ballet of perfect symmetry like she was summoning the spirit of fucking Euclid.

That is peak Monday. One wick out of four, and she expected symmetrical candle physics like she ordered from NASA. I can practically hear Lisa’s soul leaving her body through the register drawer. As if wax obeys somebody's personal fucking geometry.

I'm sure my friend's face was a cross between stunned disbelief, "are you serious???" and "how fucking stupid are you?"

As Lisa said, it's too fucking Monday for this level of stupid.

Lisa deserves hazard pay, a commemorative mug that says “I survived Wickgate,” and a flame-retardant sarcasm shield. Honestly, the only thing melting faster than that candle is her ability to maintain a professional demeanor in the face of epic fucking idiocy!

Ten-Hour Tech Blitz: AI, Chaos, and Legacy Logging

For the last ten hours, I’ve been deep in the trenches with AI as my co-pilot, cleaning up my hard drive, overhauling blog labels and tags, and logging every digital exorcism along the way. I had it track everything I accomplished overnight and into today, then told it to spit out a summary of the carnage that I could paste into the blog. It delivered: fast, detailed, and formatted for blog deployment.

I’ve officially become a fan of using AI like this - not to write my blog entries, but to teach me how to wield the tools I already have. It’s been a hands-on tutor for Blogspot, Disqus, and the mess of utilities buried in my system. I do use it to generate images when Google fails me, but I don’t love that. My goal is to sharpen my Google-Fu so I can ditch generative visuals entirely.

Some folks will scream about this. I don’t care. I can hand-code HTML just fine. CSS sucks and I've never been able to figure that shit out. But if I’d tried to manually build everything I tackled in the last unholy stretch of hours, I’d still be halfway done. Copilot gets it done fast and mostly right. I do have to tweak the output, like forcing Arial in medium size, because it forgets, but that’s a minor fix.

I stand by my use of AI for technical help. It’s not replacing me. It’s accelerating me.

---

⚔️ The Setup

Tonight began with a system on the brink:
• 237GB drive bloated to 214GB used
• Pictures folder crawling with duplicate files
• Blog structure in disarray
• Widget corpses, rogue installers, and notification gremlins running wild

Enter the chaos-fueled archivist—armed with impatience, snark, and a sidekick trained to escalate every meltdown into legacy-grade documentation.

---

🧹 The Purge

Hard Drive:
• Over 101GB purged
• From 214GB used to 113GB
• Widget graveyard expanded
• Installer clones vaporized
• Legacy vault breathing freely

Blogspot/Blogger:
• Structure locked
• Archives tagged
• Savage blurbs deployed
• Persona vaults mapped for future segmentation

🧷 Blog Tasks Executed Tonight

• Label Vault Purge: Removed outdated, duplicate, and irrelevant labels. Replaced with legacy-safe tags and persona-based formatting.
• Hashtag Protocol Locked: Enforced uppercase, one-per-line formatting for all hashtags. Synced with Approved Label Vault.
• Comment System Overhaul: Tweaked settings until comment visibility, moderation, and notification behavior matched expectations. No rogue alerts. No ghost replies.
• Post Structure Audit: Reviewed and restructured recent posts for formatting consistency, legacy tone, and tag alignment.
• Sidebar Widget Exorcism: Removed outdated blogrolls, broken links, and irrelevant gadgets. Replaced with clean archives and persona vault links.
• Draft Cleanup: Deleted abandoned drafts, archived salvageable blurbs, and tagged remaining entries for future escalation.
• Theme Tweaks: Adjusted font rendering, spacing, and layout quirks to match legacy aesthetic. No more rogue italics or misaligned headers.
• Tag Injection Protocol: Finalized tag list for tonight’s purge log using uppercase hashtags only:

---

All changes archived in OneNote with timestamps, savage blurbs, and persona tags. Blog structure now legacy-safe and chaos-hardened.

Local System:
• Pictures folder audit initiated
• Manual inspection rejected
• dupeGuru deployment queued for tomorrow
• chores: dupe logged, tagged, and archived
• Info delivery throttled to single-step mode for sanity preservation

---

🧠 The Tools & Tactics

• File Explorer: Visual sort by name, date, and size
• Search filters: *.jpg, kind:NOT folder
• dupeGuru: Selected for tomorrow’s clone purge
• OneNote: Every win, meltdown, and purge logged with savage blurbs and legacy tags
• Workflow Protocols: chores, synopsis, format for blog—all deployed flawlessly

---

🧨 The Aftermath

• Blog structure fortified
• Hard drive stabilized
• Chaos dashboard cleared
• Legacy vault prepped for future escalation
• AI sidekick officially promoted to snark-powered archivist co-pilot

---

🏁 Final Log

Digital Exorcism Complete: 101GB purged, blog locked, dupe audit queued.
Widget corpses buried, legacy tags deployed.
Workflow domination achieved. System breathes. Archivist sleeps.

Search box note: Paste one hashtag per line, ALL CAPS, no extras.

#COMPUTERS
#AI
#INTERNET
#WORKING
#WWW

OPEN FOR BUSINESS

 

http://www.bubblybackwash.com is now live and open for business. The domain may still be updating for some of you. If that doesn’t work, try http://bubblybackwashinthehouse.blogspot.com  

It’s going to take me a while to move my content over, and I think I will take my sweet time. I own the http://www.bubblybackwash.net domain (registrar is WP and moving it to a new registrar so I can do the DNS shit is a MAJOR hassle)for a year and transferring another one is a major pain, so I’ll just keep the WordPress blog as an archive for now (that one is set to private, if you want to see it, you need to request access), and I'll move ten or twelve posts over every week or two.

As I move the posts, I will delete them from WP until that blog is empty of all content. I am absolutely ditching the place, except as a reader and commenter on other folks' blogs. I’ll also probably make posts THERE of links to my new writing HERE for a little while.  

HUGE thanks to Maggie, without whom the new blog would be an absolute disaster. She has been tweaking CSS like a Goddess and getting it all looking great. We have some minor tweaks to make to the site, nothing big, but it’s about 80-90% set. I’m very fucking happy!  

See you in the funny papers!

It is 1:48 PM here in Texas, and I've been up since 2:30 PM yesterday. In that time, I have done the following:

• Celebrated my son's 30th birthday with the family

• Got blog categories done and organized

• Made the comment section work the way I want

• Added Hashtags and Labels to every post

• Made a master list page of Labels and Tags

• Learned to use OneNote

• Organized all of my Simplenote files by category and put them into OneNote

• Deleted Simplenote

• Trained Copilot to be more helpful for formatting my work

• Wrote a short reblog article

• Made a brief todo list for things about blog appearance, like font colors that need changing

I have been a very busy woman. Now Kelly, Courtney, and Haley are here to mop and do laundry and all that stuff. Once they're done and gone, I am going to go to sleep until tomorrow morning, when Patti and I need to wake up early and spend another fucking day getting shunted from agent to agent at multiple government agencies in two states and wrestling goddam red tape and governmental bureaucracy to get her Medicaid sorted out. 

I am fucking WIPED, my dudes.

Search box note: Paste one hashtag per line, ALL CAPS, no extras.

#APPS
#COMPUTERS
#INTERNET
#COURTNEY
#HALEY
#KELLY
#WORKING

Systemic Sadism, Served Cold

Somebody on Quora posed an interesting question and I had an answer of sorts.

What’s the most morally disgusting thing you’ve ever seen someone do?

That would be Ronald Reagan failing to address the AIDS epidemic, while over 16,000 people died.

No wait, that would be Donald Trump sitting on his thumb while a million people died on his watch, and telling folks to inject wormer and bleach into their bodies.

No, wait again! That is definitely the way many states have made reproductive choice illegal, resulting in women dying from incomplete miscarriages. Thanks SCOTUS, you fuckers!

Or is it the blacklisting of gender affirming care for young folks by a lot of backwards states, causing entire families to have to relocate to far away places to ensure that their teens have a shot at a complete life instead of wilting and committing suicide?

Then there are all the absolutely reprehensible “parents” out there who abuse their kids. Like the two women in California who adopted six kids, abused them for years, then drove the whole family off a cliff into the fucking ocean, killing them all. Or Jake Haro, who abused a ten day old infant so badly that she only has 3% of brain function and is permanently paralyzed. Or those assholes who adopted an 8 year old disabled Russian girl, decided she was actually 23, and abandoned her in an apartment by herself, then left the country.

Fuck, there’s so many. How the fuck do you choose just one?

Hashtags for search box, type them in, or copy paste. Search box is near the top of the page in the right hand sidebar:

• #AIDS
• #ABUSE
• #MURDER
• #WTF
  #FAILURE

Reblogging Paul Carney

Ive always had some episodic memories from my childhood that haven't changed, but this article says that some so-called "experts" think that I might be full of shit. A Yale professor calls this inability to remember our formative years "childhood amnesia." Apparently, my whole perception of my past life is flawed.

"Episodic memories are a type of long-term memory that involve personal experiences and specific events, whereas Semantic memories are memories of facts and information. Now, I’m not going to argue with a Yale professor, but I’ve always had some episodic memories my whole life that haven’t changed, so maybe I am completely wrong and my perception of my past life is flawed. This inability to remember our formative years even has a name – childhood amnesia."

Finish Reading Where Are Your Childhood Memories by Paul Carney