Unequal Justice

Yesterday in Nice, France, three people went into a church to pray and visit God. But the 44-year-old woman, 60-year-old woman and 55-year-old man did not have their prayers answered, unless they prayed for immediate death, which is what they got from a 21-year-old knife-wielding Islamist who nearly decapitated two of his victims, while shouting "God is great" in his own language.

The police, who arrived quickly, only shot to wound the attacker, who was then taken to a hospital for surgery where he remains in critical condition. Meanwhile here in America last week, a 27-year-old black man wielding a knife on a Philadelphia street, not having hurt anyone with it, was riddled with bullets by two cops until he was dead. 

Moral of the story: It's safer to be an Islamic terrorist in France than a black man in America.

The Democratic Nazi Party

In case you wondered, there are Nazis among us. One of them is Massachusetts State Rep. Ayanna Pressley, the first black woman in that state to be elected to Congress. And in case you also wondered how she got elected since America is supposedly suffering from "systemic racism," I have no idea. 

Earlier today the Girl Scouts of America tweeted their congratulations to Justice Amy Coney Barrett for her appointment to the Supreme Court, she being only the fifth woman to serve on that prestigious bench. But Pressley was having none of it. She tweeted: "What kind of a patch does one earn for uplifting a woman who is the antithesis of justice?"

This is sickening, plain and simple. Pressley's father did jail time, and her husband served ten years for drug trafficking and was later found guilty of tax evasion. (Naturally, it was because of our systemic racism that both of them became criminals.) But somehow Justice Barrett, a woman with the highest intellect and the most enviable record in school, at work and in her personal life, is the antithesis of justice? 

Sadly, afraid of God knows what horrors might rain down upon them, the Girls Scouts deleted their original tweet, thus teaching every single young woman who's paying attention that the only way to survive in America is to be a Democrat. Anyone else smell Hitler?

Don't Forget to Wear Your Placebo!

 

An Abundance of Bullshit

Have you noticed that nobody does anything out of "caution" anymore? No, these days it's always out of "an abundance of caution." One must conclude that a normal amount of caution is simply not enough in this age of Covid-19. Or else maybe, just maybe, the safe bet is to say what everyone else is saying so as to appear cutting-edge, or at least up-to-speed. This verbal abuse makes me feel sorry for the English language.

So many poor insecure people hoping to rise to the top feel as if they must speak, act and dress like everyone else in order to succeed. Meanwhile, it's the rare people who don't give a damn who are quietly making things happen.

The next time you hear someone say "At the end of the day" and it's still daylight, or "It is what it is" and it's nothing at all, don't cringe and back away like I do. Feel sorry for them, and realize they are just acting out of an abundance of caution.

The People's Choice

Working at the local Election Board this week, I have processed approximately 3,000 mail-in ballots. While feeding the ballots into the electronic counting machine, I could see who the folks in this ultra-blue town are favoring: Biden leads about 20 to 1. But that doesn't mean everyone is happy about it. Many ballots were left blank for the presidential contest, while others wrote-in their preferred candidates, an interesting lot, to say the least. Here's who some people in Freeport, Maine would choose as their president:

Mike Tyson (former prizefighter convicted of rape) 

Joey Butafuoco (Long Island auto mechanic who shot his wife in the face, had sex with a minor)

Prince (singer who died of opioid overdose)

Barack Obama (yeah, him)

Young Thug ( the rapper, not just any young thug)

Hillary Clinton (ex-politician, housewife)

Mike Bloomberg (very rich businessman)

Andrew Yang (one-time presidential candidate)

Stephen King (successful author, horror genre)

Bernie Sanders (Senator from Vermont)

Anyone Else

I found it interesting that someone would rather have a dead young black dude (Prince) running the country than a live old white man.

Go Ahead -- Cast Your Empty Ballot

Recent estimates for global poverty are that 8.6% of the world, or 736 million people, live in extreme poverty on $1.90 or less a day, according to the World Bank. Meanwhile here in the USA, Joe Biden's campaign raised $750 million in just August and September, to pay for those predictable political ads on TV, radio and online that most of us ignore. 

The cost of just one TV ad would feed these kids for at least a year.

Hmm, let's see -- what else could one do with $750 million? Here in Portland, Maine, city officials have estimated that a new homeless shelter would cost about $4.5 million to operate, compared to the nearly $3.8 million operational costs of the existing shelter. Officials in Costa Mesa, California are planning to spend $3.65 million to turn an existing warehouse into a homeless shelter. Do the math and you see we could have many new shelters for the homeless if Biden had a heart. (Or a brain, but let's not be greedy.)

Of course it's not just Biden. Donald Trump is blanketing the airwaves with his propaganda, as are Senator Susan Collins and her opponent, The Wicked Witch of Downeast, here in Maine. You simply cannot go anywhere or do anything without being accosted by political signs and other forms of advertising, none of which change anyone's mind. 

 Politics and politicians raid our innate humanity and exacerbate the global poverty we desperately avoid confronting. Instead we get all fired up over "our candidate." You know, the one wasting so much money to tell us how great he or she is.  So go ahead and vote, but sadly, it won't make a bit of difference to the big picture. There will still be the tired, the poor and the huddled masses yearning to be free.

Crybabies

As if a recipe for how to make a tuna salad sandwich printed in the New York Times wasn't enough, I just read an article about a teacher at UCLA's School of Management who was fired for refusing to give a shorter, easier final exam to his black students who were "upset" over the death of George Floyd. The human race is in serious decline. I have no answers, of course, but I thought you'd like to know.

Baby Steps at the New York Times

For a long time now I have theorized that many of the people working at the formerly prestigious but now left-wing propagandizing New York Times must be millennials. It's evident not only in so many of their brainwashed political articles, but also in several other sections of the paper. (The only one that matters to me is the Sunday magazine crossword puzzle, and more and more they are being created by youngsters and thus are less challenging by the week.) Still, it's only been a theory, but yesterday I had proof.

First you catch a tuna ........

The cooking page of the magazine, usually showcasing esoteric dishes that take about a week to shop for and a couple of days to prepare offered a recipe for a tuna salad sandwich! WTF? Yes sirree, they really did. They told you some history of how Julia Childs loved tuna salad, which was supposed to impress you with their insider knowledge and which I glossed over, eager to read the ingredient list assuming it included something unusual like eye of newt, truffles or maybe even something I never heard of. But nope, it was open the can, add some mayo, chop some celery and throw in some capers. Not even any dill or turmeric or lemon!

I suppose the young readers of the Times don't know how to prepare meals for themselves, instead relying on take-out and services like Blue Apron that send you all the ingredients in a box, with instructions. Oh well, at least now they can fix themselves a tuna salad sandwich. (Sigh.)

Life Before Uncle Ben Was Racist

Some days I think back to what life was like before the Internet. Usually when it's raining and dreary outside. Today is one of those days. 

In my opinion, or should I say IMHO, things were better years ago, but maybe that's because I was younger. Not sure. All I do know for sure is that people called you on the phone and since you had no idea who it was you answered, so it was always a surprise. And it was always a human being, not a robot. 

People sent you birthday cards in the mail. They first had to go out and buy the card, and put time into reading a few and choosing the one that was just right. Friends were the special set of people you actually had met in person and could count on for things, and had shared adventures with, and sent you those cards. 

When you called a doctor's office, someone answered the phone right away. (There was no such thing as "hold" where you had to listen to commercials about how great the doctor was.) A real live person, usually female -- there were only two genders then -- they were called "receptionists."

You had to read books to know things. It was called "getting an education." Now you just go to Google and get answers and learn nothing. You may win the argument but you forget the fact immediately. 

And getting the books was fun, they sold them in bookstores. You could hang out in one for hours, instead of ordering a book from Amazon with just one click and miss stumbling upon a gem you hadn't heard of but desperately wanted to read.

Uncle Ben's Rice was a common dinner staple. Buying it did not mean that you hated black people, or that you thought they were inferior, or that Uncle Ben was your slave, or anyone's slave. You just thought he made good rice. Just like Aunt Jemima made good syrup, although we hardly ever had pancakes when I was growing up, for some reason it wasn't a Jewish thing.

Despite the fact that going to the dentist never hurts these days, I liked life better back then. But I'm stuck here now so I write this blog, which is a nonsense word that came into being fairly recently. There are others, most of which I don't know.

There's no punchline.

Jill Biden's Thrifty Threads

For me, the most shocking aspect of last night's presidential debate came at the very end, when Joe Biden's wife Jill --  that's Doctor to you -- came on stage and stood next to her husband. She was wearing my old bedspread! It had been made into a dress of some sort, and there was enough material left over to create a matching face mask. Now that's being downright thrifty! It says to the world, "To heck with fashion, let's be sensible." 

I'm so ashamed. I used my bedspread for a dropcloth when I painted the dining room a few years ago. I have so much to learn.

Planning for Election Night

There are all sorts of memes, signs, posters and emails advising people to, "Plan to vote!" and how to, "Plan for voting." While these may help some people, like those who just arrived here from another planet, I'm all set in that department. What I need is a plan for getting through election night, when my husband and I will be glued to the TV from 6 pm until past midnight. How will we spend our time? We've been discussing it, and have come up with the following schedule. 

6 PM: With some early returns starting to trickle in and most polls still open, we'll eat a healthy dinner, maybe broiled haddock with steamed broccoli and a modest glass of red wine. 

7 PM: Pundits will start to highlight those digital maps of the country, with red states and blue states and red counties and blue counties, and maybe some red streets and blue streets showing trends. A few of them on CNN and MSNBC will already be getting testy because Trump may have won a few more of these than they would have liked. But Mitch and I will be ready with a couple of tubs of Chubby Hubby and Cherry Garcia, and bags of Oreos.

8 PM: Most polls will have closed and things will be looking pretty obvious for one side or the other. It's nail-biting time, but instead of nails we'll be biting into some tasty snacks like those Wise potato chips I bought just for this purpose. Maybe some chips and guacamole, not sure yet. 

9 PM: Clearly it will either be going our way or not going our way. To celebrate or drown our sorrows, a few White Russians will seem quite fitting, considering, although to avoid being seen as racist we'll chase them with a couple of Black Russians. (Note to self: Buy more Kahlua.)

10 PM: Surprise, surprise, things are looking up! Seems a bit early but is it time for the champagne? Oh, why not. We can always have another bottle later.

11 PM: Concession speeches are not forthcoming; instead, protesters are filling the streets of cities across America. Mitch rolls a big joint, just to help us sleep. And some Irish coffee will help us settle down. (Note to self: Buy more Jameson's.)

Midnight: Grabbing that second bottle of champagne, we'll stumble off to bed. (If we can get up the stairs.)

Kamala Harris is Not Black

In case you wondered, Kamala Harris is not black (although her life still matters). We have ample evidence of this. Besides being pale-skinned and married to a white supremacist, she can't dance, and as everyone would agree, African Americans are the best dancers among all the different ethnicities on earth, notable exceptions being Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly, both deceased. 

Much has been made in the past couple of days of Kamala and President Trump having a "dance-off" while out on the campaign trail. Weeks ago Trump started doing little dance moves at the end of his rallies, and so naturally the Democrats had to show they could do better. Since Joe was out of the question -- walking is hard enough for him -- Kamala stepped up to the plate. Despite wearing big, clunky sneakers,  indicating how "cool" she still is at the age of 56, her moves were shockingly poor and, I must say, surprising since her father was Jamaican. But her mother was from India, so she only got 50% of the dance genes. Still, I bet she is a fantastic cook.

Anyway, nobody votes for someone based on how well they dance. And I care even less than usual today as this morning at breakfast one of my teeth fell out while I was eating a dried prune. First I thought it was part of a pit, but luckily I figured it out before I threw it away. So go vote for whoever you want, I need a dentist, and pronto.

Rush Limbaugh and the Twittersphere

Ask any Democrat what they think of Rush Limbaugh and they will haul out every invective they can think of: He's vile, hateful, the Devil, he should burn in Hell forever, his lung cancer is proof of his bad karma, and blah, blah blah. Then ask them if they have ever, ONCE, listened to his three-hour daily radio broadcast, which is the most popular radio show of all time, and they will say, "No, of course not, I wouldn't listen to that bum!!"

The typical Democrat talks out of their ass. They just repeat verbatim what they have heard from the Democratic talking heads on TV, spewing forth venom like vomit. It's quite annoying. There are exceptions to this rule, thank goodness, and some of them actually think for themselves and come to their own conclusions. Rare birds, but they are out there.

Popular radio host Limbaugh announced yesterday that his lung cancer has worsened and he is now living under a death sentence. The celebrating online by mind-numbed lefties is repulsive to witness, making me see once again just how despicable most Democrats really are. For example, Travis Sarandos, an English teacher at Milwaukee High School of the Arts, took to Twitter and told his 1,323 followers he was glad, writing,"Rush Limbaugh absolutely should have to suffer from cancer. It's awesome that he's dying, and hopefully, it is as quick as it is painful."

Those nutty Dems! 

Jeffrey Toobin's Very Bad Day

There is a God after all. Today the horrid, smug CNN pundit/lawyer/kiss-ass known as Jeffrey Toobin was suspended by his other employer, The New Yorker,  for "exposing himself" to fellow magazine staffers during a Zoom meeting. Toobin says that the outing of his penis was "inadvertent." 

So many questions come to mind:

1. Exactly how did the other people on the Zoom call see his penis? Was he standing up?

2. If it was an accident, what was he trying to do? Pee in the corner?

3. How stupid does he believe people are?

Open Letter to Trump Haters

How empty and/or fucked-up your own life is directly correlates to how intensely you need to broadcast your feelings about the current state of presidential politics, which by the way has absolutely nothing to do with you. For example, one woman I know whose Facebook posts are littered with vulgarity and the worst epithets for Trump supporters happens to be morbidly obese. I'm talking really big, to the point of being monstrous. I'm certain that if she lost weight and took control of herself, she might focus on her own life instead of everyone else's.

Just a theory, but one that seems to be true in most cases. 

Another woman I know who is obsessed with hating Trump has debilitating interpersonal problems with every member of her family, disdains and belittles her husband constantly, is overly anxious and thus always seeking help from therapists, shamans, acupuncturists and online snake-oil salesmen. 

My advice for all you Trump haters: Take a break! Nobody cares what you think about anything; your opinion doesn't matter one iota. Try going for a run or walk in the woods, join a gym, eat healthy food and read a book that is not about politics. Paint your dining room. Turn off the TV. And for Gods's sakes, shut up already about the election; you have nothing new to add.

Trump Derangement Syndrome on Steroids

I have the pleasure to be married to a man as fair as King Solomon. This extends not only to disputes among people he knows but also to politics. He studiously looks at all sides, and absorbs every bit of information from all sources, even the disgustingly nauseating Rachel Maddow. (I leave the room when he puts her on.) So it is sad that the rest of his entire family, without exception, is made up of lunatic lefties who wear blinders and only let in leftist propaganda regarding politics.

They spurt their venom on Facebook daily. Here is a sample rant, actually quite mild as compared to most of her posts, from his sick and twisted cousin Di, who thankfully lives in Florida, as far away from me in Maine as possible:

"The fuqqer45 cultists run around denigrating scientists and doctors, crying “fake news,” continually living in their alternative universe bubbles. They just don’t give a rat’s ass until it affects them personally. Typical republican mindset - selfish, self serving, willfully ignorant, and behaving like useful idiots for their dumbass cult leader who, in turn, and rather laughable, doesn’t give a rat’s ass about them. That’s the tragedy. And, they’re prolonging the pandemic misery for the rest of us. They truly are the lowest common denominator of humanity."

"The fuqqer is still trying to hide his tax returns, which we all know will prove his illegals dealings. This is why he needs SCOTUS so desperately. He’s been a lying, cheating, heartless grifter his entire life, and those returns will prove it. Also, if he is re-elected, the statute of limitations will run out on some of his crimes, which is also why he needs the court, as this is much of the reasoning for his delaying tactics.  But, tax cheating has no statute of limitations. He’s either going to jail, or die. That is his future. But, he is also taking his evil spawn down with him, because, as we all know, the universe revolves around him, and only him. So, just die, fuqqer, and put yourself out of our misery already."

Watch out if you live in Jacksonville, as Di Rouda roams the streets unshackled. So far.

The Stoning of Donald Trump

I have often urged my readers to get their hands on a copy of "The Lottery," a deeply compelling short story written in 1948 by Shirley Jackson. Early on his presidency I mentioned that Trump was the winner of the lottery this time, and not the kind where you get money but the kind described by Jackson. I have now concluded that Trump's fate is even worse than that of Jackson's protagonist.

In the story, set in a time that could be anytime and a place that could be anywhere in America, an annual ritual called The Lottery is held. The townsfolk gather at the appointed hour on the same day every year, and each one, including old folks and little kids, draws a number from a hat. Whoever gets the number that has been predetermined by the town leaders as the "winner" is compelled to come forward and stand still as each of the townspeople picks up a rock and throws it at him or her. (This was written back in the day when there were only two sexes.)

The rock-throwing continues until the person is dead. Then all the townspeople calmly return to work, or back to their homes to finish eating lunch, or continue with their knitting, or milking the cows or whatever it was they were doing before.

So it will be if Trump loses the election. Despicable journalists like simpering Anderson Cooper or smug Rachel Maddow or downright nauseating Chris Hayes and the rest of the malignant mainstream media (Chuck Todd, Dana Bash -- yuk!) will pack away their knives, pick up their violins and begin a four-year serenade to Sleepy Joe and Miss Kamala, with nary a look back at the man they had spent the last four years torturing, demeaning, insulting, and ultimately destroying.

It's sickening.

I Prefer the Old Days, When Men Were Steve McQueen

Actor Steve McQeen exuded masculinity, back when it was still permitted.

Suddenly the word "preference" is a bad boy. Or rather, a bad they. When Amy Coney Barrett used it in conjunction with the word "sexual" during her Senate grilling, she was immediately taken to task. Horror of horrors, was she implying that homosexuality, bisexuality, transgenderism or just being plain old queer and not sure what you are is something one chooses? That it's not part of one's genetic makeup and thus not a choice at all? OH GOD, WOMAN! AND YOU WANT A SEAT ON THE SUPREME COURT?

Barrett was being questioned by the lunatic senator from Hawaii, Maize Hirono, who should not be allowed to roam the streets of Honolulu unchaperoned, forget entering the hallowed halls of Congress. "Even though you didn't give a direct answer I think your response did speak volumes," Hirono said. "Not once, but twice, you used the term sexual preference to describe those in the LGBTQ community. And let me make clear, sexual preference is an offensive and outdated term."

Who knew? Not me. And not the wordsmiths at Merriam-Webster, who the very next day changed their definition to satisfy the gangs of woke thugs running things these days, adding the word "offensive" after the the words "sexual preference." Going even further, the lesbian senator from Wisconsin whose name I won't mention because she's such an asshole called Barrett's use of the word "preference" just plain ignorant.

It's so hard to keep up. And by "hard" I mean difficult, and by "keep up" I mean stay abreast of the latest diktat issued by the Democratic Nazi Party up on Capitol Hill.

Why, Amy, Why?

Yesterday I listened to most of the Senate hearings involving Judge Amy Coney Barrett. Thankfully there was no need to park myself in front of the TV; instead I could paint in my art studio and stream the live proceedings on my iPhone. The parade of fools grandstanding in front of the cameras had me wondering why anyone would sit still for such a show of bloviation.

Okay, so bloviation is a cumbersome word not commonly used and I could have said something less "Maureen Dowd-y" like, "Why anyone would sit still to hear a bunch of doofus windbags strut their stuff." But bloviate is the perfect word. It means: "To talk at length, especially in an inflated and empty way." Bingo!

If you tuned in expecting to hear the nominee answering a battery of questions about her knowledge and  philosophy of law, you were quickly disappointed. 

What happened was this: Each member of the Judiciary Committee had 30 minutes to "question" the nominee. Most of the Republicans chose to stroll down memory lane and talk about themselves, always ending with ebullient praise for Barrett, her sterling career and wonderful family-- she has two black children! -- and how eager they were to see her seated on the Supreme Court. (One or two of them hinted that she may actually walk on water.) Committee Chairman Lindsey Graham called Barrett "one of the most amazing people I have ever met in my entire life."

The Democrats approached their 30 minutes somewhat differently, beginning with how the proceedings were a total sham, that people are dying of Covid right now, there's a pandemic right now, people are sick!, we are in the middle of an election, and oh yeah, we are in the middle of a pandemic. Americans need relief from the pandemic, and Trump is trying to cram this sham nominee onto the court in order to rob everyone of their health care and take away coverage for pre-existing conditions! Look, here's a poster size-photo of my next-door neighbor who has a tumor, and another one who has diabetes and lost a leg and needs constant care, and nobody I know can afford their meds and besides, you are a obviously a racist and you made a deal with Trump to vote down Obamacare and your record proves it and anyway, that fitted, magenta dress (see photo) you wore on Monday was inappropriate because every working woman in Washington, D.C. wears a suit and tries to look as much like a man as possible, so lose the high heels and get with the program, bitch. 

So again I ask, why would Amy Coney Barrett, a lovely, mild-mannered, religious 48-year-old mother of seven with a myriad of choices open to her as a law professor and lawyer, tolerate the bullshit raining down on her in order to spend the rest of her life in a black robe listening to bleak, never-ending stories of hurts, crimes and injustices from hundreds of litigants, day after dreary day? 

You got me.

2020: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

We've all seen the memes about how bad 2020 has been, and how everyone can't wait for it to be over. But why next year will be any better stymies me. With just two-and-a-half months to go it's unlikely we will wake up on January 1, 2021 to find it's all behind us. Things might even be worse, with the winner of the election still in doubt and the coronavirus entering its final phase when it infects everyone who has thus far escaped.

(The Good) That was a bummer of an opening, so I'll switch to all the good things about 2020. For one thing, Halloween will not happen in the way it usually does, with millions of children out scavenging for insane amounts of poisonous sugar capsules with which they will stuff themselves and solidify the still-burgeoning fat cells in their bodies, thereby insuring another generation of fatties with bad teeth and high cholesterol leading to cancer, diabetes and heart disease. Even better, I will not be stuffing myself with all the leftover candy I buy just in case someone rings the bell (which they hardly ever do except for my neighbor's twin grandkids), making myself both physically and mentally sick for at least a week. 

Another 2020 plus is our meeting Judge Amy Coney Barrett, a woman plucked from obscurity to become a household name. Has there ever been a more intelligent, honest, articulate, fair or appealing person nominated to sit on the Supreme Court? Certainly not in my memory. And the Senate hearings searching for her Achilles heel have done nothing but highlight her superiority to those sorry Democrats (The Bad) hurling questions at her like, "Do you condemn white nationalism?" and, "Have you ever sexually assaulted someone?" Really, it's like a Saturday Night Live skit on steroids. And there's one more day to go, so tune in today if you haven't already seen it.

Lastly, whether you love Trump or hate him, seeing an overweight 74-year-old contract the virus and come through safe and sound fairly quickly has got to make us all breathe a little easier, except of course my husband's evil cousins (The Ugly) who were hoping he would die. Sorry girls, I guess you'll have to put up with another four years of the man.

The Supreme Court Follies

If you want a good laugh, turn on the TV and watch the Senate Judiciary Committee's hearing for confirming Supreme Court nominee Amy Coney Barrett. First a Democrat talks and tells you how bad it is to hold this hearing, and then all the ways how President Trump sucks and has caused all the deaths from Covid. Next a Republican talks and tells you how important it is to keep the Court at nine justices for the sake of the Constitution, and how bad all the Democrats are for trying to tear down the Constitution by packing the Court.

Then a Democrat comes on and says Trump sucks (how original) and took off his mask even though he had the virus! Then a Republican talks and says that Judge Barrett should be confirmed to continue our democracy. Then a Democrat says this random person nobody ever heard of was a great person who died of Covid. Then a Republican says they want to keep coverage for pre-existing conditions. Then a Democrat says Ruth Bader Ginsberg and angels can be heard singing. Then a Republican says religious freedom is important.

Then a Democrat says sob story sob story this great person got Covid and died and was a great person and what about the Affordable Care Act sob story sob story. And of course, Ruth Bader Ginsberg.

Then a Republican says this is all hogwash, they are attacking your Catholic religion and say your beliefs make you unfit to serve, even though Article 6 of the Constitution cites religious liberty as crucial. Then a Democrat says using contraceptives in your own home may be struck down!

Especially when Senator Richard Blumenthal (D., Conn.) who is a major major liar with many documented lies you can Google, started talking about how the Affordable Care Act helps his neighbor who has a terrible disease and that Judge Barrett will strike it down! The bitch!

Watch, and you be the Judge.

Running from America

Lisbon, my new home?

For several weeks now I've been researching where our family can move if Kamala Harris becomes the next president. The pretense is that Joe Biden, already-addled and frail at 77, will be the one in the Oval Office, but in reality it will be Kammie, specifically chosen by the Democrat puppet masters to inflict their loony policies on all of us. In short order the America we know will be but a ghost of its former self.

While all the bleeding hearts here welcome any and every immigrant who can swim, crawl or tunnel their way into our country, it's not easy for any of us over the age of 50 to find a new home. In fact, it's damn slim pickin's. Canada, the easiest one for us to get to since it shares a border with Maine, wants nothing to do with either me or my husband, considering us too old to help grow their economy and likely to tap into their free health care soon enough.  

The Dominican Republic will let us in, but no thanks. Ditto Ecuador, Malta and Belize. Costa Rica has too many Americans already and New Zealand is too far away. Israel welcomes all Jews, but it is after all a war zone, let's face it. The best country that says "Come on down!" is Portugal, a place I have visited and found to be Heaven on Earth. Not only is it stunningly beautiful, but the people are friendly and many of them speak English. (Okay, so the government is Socialist; still, it's not the Wicked Witch in my face every day. And by the time I start to dislike all the politicians there, I'll be dead.)

So go ahead, Democrats: give it your best shot. I'm confident that my plan is a lot better than yours.

The Wicked Bitch of the West

Kamala Harris, woman of color, and her white privileged husband.

Quick: Name someone more haughty, hubristic, self-important, pompous, arrogant, adolescent and bitchy than Kamala Harris. Sorry, time's up. I'm guessing you couldn't think of anyone if you watched her performance on last night's televised debate, in which Kammie played the surly teenage daughter, VP Mike Pence as the calm, clear-thinking dad and moderator Susan Page the somewhat befuddled visiting aunt hoping to make peace in the family. It went something like this: 

DAD: "Where were you tonight, young lady, and with whom? It's way past your curfew." 

KAMMIE: "I can't decide if I should go to the prom with Billy or Pete. They both love me." 

DAD: "I will ask you again, where were you this evening?" 

KAMMIE: "I hate my new math teacher. He thinks he's so smart, but I know a lot more than he does." 

DAD: "Young lady, I am asking you for the last time, will you and Joe Biden pack the Supreme Court and enact the Green New Deal?" 

KAMMIE: "I am the only one in this room who has prosecuted people for crimes. So there." 

AUNT SUSAN: "What would you two like for dinner, Chinese or pizza? It's getting late so I really need an answer." 

Some of the dumber things Kammie said: 

1. Americans were panicked because they didn't know when they were going to get their next roll of toilet paper, thanks to Trump knowing about the seriousness of the virus for a whole month and not telling the American people, ironically in order to avoid a panic. 

2. Joe Biden has a plan to end the virus! Yikes, who knew he is so skilled in that area? Anyway, he will force people to wear masks (good luck with that) and wash their hands (ditto). Plus he will definitely get a vaccine to everyone! 

3. A Biden-Harris administration will end the police problem by banning choke-holds. Duh, those are already totally and utterly discouraged by our current president and everyone else in the world, and so far outlawed in the state of New York, to no avail. According to NPR, "A review of bans on neck restraints in some of the nation's largest police departments found them largely ineffective and subject to lax enforcement. And when chokeholds specifically were banned, a variation on the neck restraint was often permitted instead." 

Harris lost out to the dozen other hopefuls during the early days of the nominating process last year, earning among the lowest numbers in every poll after each debate. So low that she dropped out of the race before any votes were cast in any primaries. And if the Democrats win in November, she will be the President of the United States! (After they kill off Sleepy Joe of course.) Is this a nutty country or what?

The Birth of Fake News

NOT DENZEL WASHINGTON

Two weeks ago we had friends over for dinner. During a conversation about movies, the husband of the couple confused Will Smith (shown above) with Denzel Washington, or vise versa, I don't quite remember. Anyway, I found it funny and jokingly said, "Yeah, because all black people look alike, right?" At that moment his wife's ears perked up and she fairly screamed, "Oh my God, what did you just say?"

I explained that I was joking, but she was still on it. "How can you say such a thing, even in jest?" I asked if she thought I truly believed that all black people look alike, and she answered, to my horror, that she had "no idea" what I think about such things. Stunned, I let it go. Then yesterday I heard from a third party that the woman told her, "Andrea thinks all black people look alike." 

This is how fake news is born. If I were running for office this would be a front-page story, or at least used in a negative TV ad against me by my opponent. I would like to go on record right here and now as saying that I do not believe all black people look alike. For example, I think Michelle Obama is an ugly pig and that Whitney Houston, now deceased, was gorgeous. Morgan Freeman looks like a swamp monster and Denzel Washington is drop-dead handsome. Whoopie Goldberg is a hideous cow and Jennifer Hudson is stunning.

I could go on but you get the point. The next time you hear something you think is outrageous, consider the source.

The Reckless Media (Could Kill Me)

Last evening, after three days of hospitalization and amid much fanfare, the President left the Walter Reed Medical Center by helicopter. Back home, standing on the South Portico of the White House and posing for photos to accommodate the moronic photographers elbowing one another in the mosh pit below -- like what the world needs is more pictures of Trump, right? -- he removed his blue paper mask and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. Then, after saluting the retreating helicopter pilot and waving to the assembled crowd, he turned and walked inside. 

In an article posted online this morning, CNN described his behavior as "reckless mask removal." I hate that! Suddenly it was reckless? Says who? 

You see, I have a brain that still works and allows me to draw my own conclusions as to whether or not removing one's face mask, when nobody else is nearby, is okay. But the writers at CNN (and MSNBC and The New York Times and the rest of that gang) clearly believe that Regular People Like Us need direction. We need to be told how to feel and what to think. We might not get it otherwise. It's insulting.

The offending article included the following emailed statement from Dr. Janet Baseman, an epidemiologist at the University of Washington's School of Health: "The rest of us who don't have access to such care should continue to worry about Covid."

WTF? A doctor prescribing worry? That seemed wrong. So then I looked up the word "worry" in the dictionary and found it to mean, "to give way to anxiety or unease, allow one's mind to dwell on difficulty or troubles," and "a state of anxiety and uncertainty over actual or potential problems."

Personally, despite knowing full well that he might be losing his mind and who could blame him after four years of unrelenting venom thrown at him from every which way, I prefer Trump's advice: "Don't be afraid of it. Don't let it dominate your life." Otherwise, God knows what could happen to me; I might even suffer a second heart attack! (I had one three years ago.) 

One thing's for sure: I will stop reading the irresponsible drivel spewed by those seeking to sensationalize everything Trump does in order to insure a Biden victory this November, which by the way really worries me.

Trump's Internal Organs

For some reason we Americans are supposed to care very much whether or not President Trump ever was put on supplemental oxygen while he was at Walter Reade Medical Center, where he is being treated for Covid. Despite his team of doctors giving a press conference yesterday morning saying he was doing great and that they were very encouraged, and despite Trump tweeting out a video to the world from his office at the hospital saying he was feeling a lot better, The New York Times, that unholy factory of misinformation, printed that the truth was being kept from us! They claim that "the White House has sowed confusion" because an anonymous source, their favorite kind of source, told them the President's condition is a lot worse and very worrisome. Not only that, but the lead story today starts with a joke running around the Internet about RBG causing it by winning her first case with the Lord. Ha ha.

Okay, I have to say that on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being "Big Deal, Who Doesn't Have It" and 10 being "Oh My God I Can't Go On," the news that Donald and Melania tested positive for Covid was, for me, about a 3. (My husband said a 4.) As for if he ever was put on supplemental oxygen, we both said 1. He's not on it now, so who the heck cares?

The incessant, voyeuristic prying of reporters, like truffle pigs digging in the dirt, is sickening. They will stop at nothing, assuming we all like truffles. Okay then, give us more. What about the Presidential Bowel Movements? Have they been regular? Are they a good size and well-formed? What color are they? How often does he go? Any blood in the stool? And what about his prostate? Does he get up to pee a lot at night? Come on man, tell us! We want to know everything we can about him because our own lives are so empty and boring we have nothing else to think about except Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump,Trump, Trump, Trump! (And of course, Melania.)

TV Review: UTOPIA

This little girl has something to do with it, but God knows what. 

 

Oh great, this is all we need. President Trump has Covid, and all the horribly mean lefties are praying he will die. (It's sort of the exact opposite of when everyone had to clap to save Tinkerbell in Peter Pan.) Then God forbid a million times, if Biden gets in he will drop dead soon enough, putting Kamala Harris, the first female-socialist-Jamaican/Indian-bitch-on-wheels in the White House.

This has got to be a bad dream sparked by the alarmingly scary TV show I watched last night. Trust me, whatever you do, do not watch UTOPIA, a new series now streaming on Amazon Prime. I tuned in because of the promos hawking Rainn Wilson, the actor who brilliantly portrayed geeky Dwight on The Office for so many years.  Alas, he was nowhere to be found in Episode One.  Instead we got a bunch of who-the-heck-are-they actors, a complicated silly plot and a really high death count. I mean really high.  

I went to bed nauseous from soaring blood pressure and prayed that God would let me forget all about it. I did, until now. I need a drink.

The Devil We Know

I'm voting for Donald Trump. There, I said it. And here's why: A vote for Joe Biden is not really a vote for Joe Biden, that bizarrely waxen figure propped up at the debate two nights ago getting talking points from his handlers through a wire hidden in his ear. It's actually a vote for those five Sirens* -- Kamala Harris, Alexandria Whatever-Whatever, Ilhan Omar, Nancy Pelosi, and Elizabeth Warren.

My reasons are many. First, I'm not a fan of America becoming a green nanny state. Paying for illegal aliens to go to college? Crazy. And next thing you know they'll rule that cats can't go outside because they kill birds, and we've got to save the poor little birdies! (Lurch simply could not tolerate that.) Second, having lived in D.C. for 30 years and witnessing the bureaucratic disfunction, rampant crime, racial unrest and blatant segregation of the entire city, just thinking of it as a separate state with its own governor, senators and representatives gives me the willies, the creeps, and surely nightmares forever.

Maybe it's because you can't teach an old dog new tricks -- me being the old dog -- but I like our current system just fine: Work hard and reap rewards, or slack off and get a government handout anyway. So I'm going with the Devil I know who, brusque personality aside, has done a fairly good job of running things (great economy, low unemployment, good judge appointments, no wars, getting out of bad international trade deals). Donald Trump did not invent the coronavirus, and I'm certain only God has the power to end it.

* Dante's Siren demonstrates the deadly peril of inordinate earthly pleasure masked by a self-fabricated visage of beauty and goodness,