Lusting in the Heart vs. The Cult of Personality

The conservative right in this country has officially gone completely to the dark side, abandoning even the pretense of the traditional family values they spent decades preaching. It did not happen overnight, but the evolution from self-righteous moral police to absolute, shameless hypocrisy is undeniable. To understand exactly how deep this rot goes, you only have to look at three specific moments in modern political history that show when and how it all happened.

Rules for Thee, Freedom for Me: The Deep Hypocrisy of the Modern Right

There is a distinct psychological mechanism running the modern American hard right, and it is a textbook case of psychological projection. The formula is as predictable as it is shameless: whatever structural corruption, ethical rot, or lawless behavior ultra-conservative leaders are actively committing—or planning to commit—they immediately accuse their political opponents of doing first. It creates a chaotic smoke screen, ensuring that by the time their own scandals come to light, the public is too exhausted by the non-stop noise to notice. But when you strip away the flags, the slogans, and the manufactured outrage, the reality becomes undeniable. The MAGA movement has systemically transformed the very grievances they spent a decade fundraising on into their actual policy blueprint.

8647 For Fuck's Sake!

 

The man:

• Wants to be on a US stamp.
• Wants to replace FDR on the dime.
• Wants a Triumphal Arch overlooking Arlington Cemetery.
• Wants a Nobel Peace Prize
• Wants the reflecting pool to be country club pool blue 
• Wants a fucking ballroom
• Wants to suck Putin's cock.
• Has added himself to our passports
• Is on a 24K plated commemrative coin that the US mint sells for approx$50.
• Has his cabinet praise him one person at a time before meetings
• Persecutes (and prosecutes) his political enemies
• The Kennedy Center. 'Nuff said.
• Considers himself on a par with Jesus H Crucified Christ
• He illegally invaded a sovereign nation and kidnapped its president
• Wants to pave Palestine and turn it into a fucking casino or summat

He spends most of his time bitching and griping about these non-issues, like a toddler throwing a tantrum to get what it wants. Meanwhile, there's a war, there's a big blockade, there's no affordable gas, soon there will be no gas at all, and then the food and other commodity shortages start. 

He's more interested in his orange face being on a stamp than in pulling our troops out of Iran or any real issue on this planet and in this country.

He needs to go.

8647 - 25th Amendment NOW! Congress used to have balls. Now it's a bunch of fucking sycophants groveling at his feet and licking his smegma laden uncircumcised schlong and not doing its job. Grow a new set, assholes. 

Come and get me for saying 8647. Here's a fucking history lesson for you:

"The term "86" originated in the 1920s-1930s as American restaurant and soda jerk slang for running out of an item, likely evolving as rhyming slang for "nix". It expanded to mean kicking out customers or refusing service, with popular, though unverified, theories linking it to [Chumley’s Speakeasy] at 86 Bedford St. or Prohibition-era police tactics. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]

Most Likely Origins:

• Soda Jerk/Diner Code: In the 1930s, staff used numerical codes (e.g., 81 was water). "86" meant an item was sold out.
• Rhyming Slang: It is often considered a direct, witty rhyme for "nix" (to cancel or reject). [1, 2, 3]

Common Origin Myths & Theories:

• Chumley’s Speakeasy: Located at 86 Bedford St. in New York, police would allegedly tell the bartender to "86" patrons out the back door before a raid.
• Prohibition Era: Bartenders would serve a rowdy customer 86-proof liquor to get them drunk faster so they would leave.
• Supplies/Space: Early diners only held 85 items, or in soup kitchens, the 86th person got nothing.
• Military Code: Reference to the F-86 fighter jet shooting down an enemy, or Article 86 (AWOL) of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. [1, 2]

Today, it is commonly used in hospitality to mean an item is gone, or that a customer is no longer allowed on the premises. [1]" (History.Com and Wikipedia)

NOWHERE does it mention it as a term for icing somebody. Nowhere.

When somebody is egomaniacal and utterly fucking deranged, he sues everybody who so much as looks at him strangely. He orders his subordinates to investigate and prosecute his enemies as a revenge tactic for having the sheer effontery to stand against him.And when somebody is delusional and incredibly stupid, he tilts at windmills and sits around on his ass.

86 fucking 47. The world cannot wait. World War 3 is starting, because of his insane policies. There is unrest here at home, and a growing global disgust for the US due to Donald Trump's hubris. 

He has got to be stopped by any LEGAL means necessary. While he's #2 on my Dead Pool List, I do not advocate violence against anybody.25th Amendment, Impeachment and Conviction, something else non-violent and legal, but it's got to stop. It's really got to stop. 

I cannot believe that there are people in this country, a LOT of people, who think he's the best thing that ever happened to the US and the world. Who believe every word out of his mouth. Who consider all liberals to be traitors to the US. Who cannot see that this man embodies the biblical description of the Antichrist they believe in.  That he is craven, childish, and creepy. He is a danger to the entire planet and he has control of "the football".

Get me the fuck out of here and 8647. Last week.

Prophets, Profits, and Predatory Pyramids

TL;DR: MLMs are a predatory plague that feast on women's insecurities and social lives. Utah is the giant, culty heart of this scam, where missionary tactics are repurposed to sell overpriced essential oils and ugly leggings.

More Inside...

Auntie Elfi's Fables: The Schoolyard Bully

As the days stretched on, the bright colors of the playground seemed to fade under the shadow of the big kids’ rules. They didn’t just play on the slide; they decided how fast you were allowed to go down, and you had to pay them a polished pebble for the privilege. They set up "sandbox shifts," where anyone from the far side of the woods could only dig for a minute at a time. The seesaw was declared "out of order" indefinitely, though everyone saw the big kids using it as a private bench to plot their next move.

Yet, a strange thing happened. The "lousy babies," as the big kids called them, didn't break. In fact, the harder the bullies pushed, the tighter the others held together. They didn't shout back; they fought with a quiet, polite resistance that drove the big kids toward madness.

When they were told they couldn't use the swings, they simply stood in a long, calm line, waiting with patient smiles that suggested they had all the time in the world. When the sandbox whistle blew, they handed over their shovels with a kindness that felt like a challenge. They weren't looking for a fight; they just wanted to be treated decently. That simple, immovable demand made them impossible to defeat. 

Eventually, the big kids began to wear themselves out with their own anger. They gritted their teeth every day, forced to allow those "lousy babies" to move about the playground without fear. It burned them to see the smaller kids sharing the equipment fairly, ignoring the big kids’ self-appointed authority as if it were nothing more than a passing breeze. And fairly meant that they gave the big kids fair turns at games and swings, because the other kids were Decent human beings who did not commit the sin of "Treating people like things."

The bullies watched from the sidelines, fuming because there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. The more they tried to grab the ball and go home, the more they realized the other kids had learned to play their own games without needing that ball at all. The playground didn't belong to the loudest anymore; it belonged to everyone.

Okay, you've read it. Now swap the words Republican and school yard bully/ies. And Other/Little kids and Liberals/Democrats. Now reread it.

Kinda makes ya think, huh?

Fuck YOU, David Gerrold

Let me make this infinitely clear.

I have three kids, Lis, Ian, and Ava. They are my pride and my joy. I support them in their identities, their lives, their very beings.

Two of my kids are transgender. I am their number one ally. I will go to the mats against anybody who wants to tell me my kids are mentally ill for that, or that they are the gender that they were assigned at birth, or that they should be forced to use a room full of urinals instead of toilets, or any person who SUPPORTS somebody with those fucking ideas in their head (David Gerrold, I am looking at YOU, motherfucker!)

I'll just leave this here...

 

A Scorched Earth Wake Up Call - Impeach Trump Now

There comes a point where outrage stops being a reaction and becomes a survival instinct. We passed that point years ago. We're living under a man who treats war like a toy. Iran, Venezuela, anywhere he can point a finger and pretend he's a strongman. It's reckless. It's cruel. It's the behavior of someone who should never have been allowed near power.

And here's what breaks me. Here's what turns anger into something volcanic. The deaths of girls in US bombings. My claim is simple. One hundred seventy five girls. Gone. Wiped out by the kind of military action Trump treats like a flex. Children who never had a chance. Families who will never recover. Futures erased because someone in Washington wanted to look tough on television.

The Midterm Mirage: America’s First Tyrant and the End of the Experiment

 

I’ve been listening to the "cancellation" rumors swirling around the White House this week; let’s be real; when this man hints at something, he’s usually already got the matches lit. The talk of "suspending" the 2026 midterms for "national security" or "election integrity" is the final boss of his authoritarian fever dream. We are staring down the barrel of a permanent presidency; the big question isn't just if he’ll try it, but what the hell happens when he does.

Let Them Eat Cake? Or Should They Eat The Rich?

A conversation snippet with my friend Gale inspired me to do some quick research and write up my thoughts about the super rich. Here we go:

Cap Is as Stupid as Pinocchio's Nose Is Long

I spent three hours last night chasing my own tail because "Cap", as I call the Microsoft Copilot AI pre-installed on my laptop, decided to run me around the fucking bushes. I asked for a simple fix to get my graphics filter librarian working; instead of the two-step solution I requested, I got a 2500-piece jigsaw puzzle (with one missing piece) of tech geekery that went nowhere.

When Their Rights Are Sacred and Yours Are Optional

I am absolutely, unapologetically, and without exception pro transgender rights...

Spammers should have to shampoo my crotch

Fee fie foe fammer, boy I hate a spammer!

The other day I put a contact form on the blog. Thought it might be a good idea, ya know?

Tonight, I got about a dozen emails that were clearly from spambots.

Fucking hell. Assholes wreck everything.

The Cravings Never Really End

Nicotine Is Insidious.

I just spent five stupid minutes going full tornado, ripping through my desk like I was searching for state secrets. Lifting papers, opening drawers, rifling like a woman possessed.

Looking for my fucking cigarettes.

My cigarettes.

I quit smoking two years and five weeks ago.  

There is no nicotine in this house.  

There has not been for a long damn time.

And yet my brain still tried to run the old script:  

"Quick! Check under that pile of junk mail! Maybe Past You stashed a pack for Future You, like some deranged nicotine Easter Bunny!"

D'OH.

Nicotine is a sneaky little bastard. It shows up at the weirdest moments, taps you on the shoulder, and whispers, "Hey... remember how good we were together?" 

And I swear, for about ten seconds, or ten minutes depending on how stressed I am, I would absolutely throw hands for a smoke.

But here is the thing:  

I am not losing this fight.  

Not today, not ever.
Never fucking EVER!

Cigarettes are banned from this house like cursed artifacts. My brother, who still smokes, has to keep his pack in the car and trek a hundred feet to the designated exile chair. That is the rule. That is the boundary. That is how I keep myself safe.

I am stealing a line from my friend and webqueen, Maggie:  

I am not an ex smoker.  

I am a smoker in recovery.

And recovery is a permanent condition, but so is my stubbornness.

Nicotine can try me, but it is not getting back in. Fuck that.

Impeach and CONVICT Trump NOW!

 

There is a point where a country either wakes up or sleepwalks straight off a cliff. People keep acting like this is just another news cycle, another round of political noise,or another thing to scroll past on the way to cat videos and dinner plans. But this isn't background static. This is the fire alarm blaring at full volume while half the country pretends it's a ringtone. We're living inside an emergency, and the refusal to name it is part of the emergency.

Because this is not about one moment, one headline, or one outrageous quote. It's an accumulation, a pattern, the relentless grinding erosion of guardrails and basic expectations of leadership. Every time something crosses a line, the line gets redrawn a little further out, and people shrug a little harder, and the whole thing becomes a little more normal and accepted...

Punk Lyrics: You’ll Answer One Day

[Verse 1]

Kick in the door, ICE in the van,

Five-year-old sobs, they don’t give a damn.

Mom on the ground, zip ties tight,

“Just doing our job” you’re a fucking parasite.

[Chorus]

You’ll answer one day, you bootlicking freaks,

For blood on the pavement and trauma that reeks.

For cages and silence and bureaucrat spin

Justice is coming, and it’s gonna dig in.

[Verse 2]

You call it law, we call it fucking rot,

You signed the orders, now you’re caught.

You watched them die, you filed your form,

You’re the motherfucking stormtrooper in uniform.

[Bridge]

Hide behind flags, behind your fake pride,

But the ghosts of the stolen will never let you hide.

Every scream, every name, every soul you erased

Will crash through your gates like a riot - with mace.

[Chorus]

You’ll answer one day, you bootlicking freaks,

For blood on the pavement and trauma that reeks.

For cages and silence and bureaucrat spin

Justice is coming, and it’s gonna dig in.

[Outro]

So sleep with your memos and chain-link dreams,

But we’re coming with fury and gasoline.

We’ve got voices, and rage, and a score to settle

And we’ll carve your crimes into twisted metal.

Ukraine Is Still Standing and Russia Is Still Throwing a Tantrum

Russia’s full scale invasion keeps dragging on like the world’s most deranged midlife crisis, and somehow the Kremlin still has not figured out that Ukraine is not going to fucking die just because Moscow thinks it should. Ukraine is fighting for its existence while Russia stomps around like a pissed off toddler who found out the universe does not revolve around its crusty Soviet nostalgia fantasies. Every missile Russia fires is another pathetic attempt to bully a country that has already proven it would rather crawl through hell than surrender a single inch of its land.

Ukraine keeps doing the impossible. Cities get blown to shit and people sweep up the debris and rebuild like it is just another Tuesday. Soldiers rotate out of trenches that look like the inside of a nightmare and go right back because they refuse to let their country be turned into Putin’s personal fucking theme park. Families scatter across continents and still manage to support each other with a level of resilience that makes Russia’s entire propaganda machine look like a clown show. The whole nation is held together by grit, grief, and a collective fuck you aimed directly at Moscow...

THEY WANT YER GUNS, BILLY BOB!

Bill Clinton will take your guns.

Obama will take your guns.

Bernie is coming for the guns.

Hillary is going to take your guns.

Buttigieg, Klobuchar, Gabbard, Biden, Kerry, Gore, they will wrench the gun from your cold dead gripping fingers!

So who wants the guns?

Looks like the entire Trump administration does...

MAGA, motherfuckers! Seig Heil!

 

Now that it could be them, they're speaking out

 

I'm going to say it, and a lot louder for those in the back.

When it was "just" black men and women being shot in the street like rabid dogs by law enforcement, the country just mostly shrugged and went on to the next ex-judicial killing of innocent people. Because obviously, they were nefarious criminals who were outside walking or driving while black with ulterior motives. Can't be having with that.

Then it was a white woman in Minneapolis, and people started getting mad. But it was only a woman, and a Lesbian at that, so only a few people got angry. A wife has been widowed, a child has been orphaned, and Donald Trump says that this woman who was sitting in a vehicle and speaking peacefully was, and I fucking quote, "A professional agitator".

Now it's a white man.

And now shit is getting real to the MAGA 2A ammosexual fuckheads.

Now they're not liking it. Now the NRA is speaking out. 

Because next time, it could be them or the guy they play poker with on Tuesday nights.

NOW the Republicraps are starting to blink an eye.

Not Trump and Miller, of course. Those pieces of shit just want most of us dead.

But they're starting to see what's actually going down.

Maybe THIS will be the spark that fans into a major flame.

Something's got to fucking give.