Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Poor old Joe. Everyone thinks he is responsible for the mess this country has become since he took office. But seriously, does anyone really believe that he, a loser with a history of doing nothing in Congress for 40 years and lying about his past accomplishments, in cahoots with his drug-addicted sketchy son and slowly losing his mind to dementia, is the President? No. He's the Sheep, doing the bidding of the Wolf named Obama.

Unconvinced? On Oct. 30, 2008, shortly before the presidential election, Barack Hussein Obama told a crowd in Columbia, Missouri, “We are five days away from fundamentally transforming the United States of America.”

And indeed he has, but not for the better. The crime waves inundating virtually every large city -- thefts, carjackings, murders, rapes -- in tandem with hordes of homeless drug addicts camping on the streets and the influx of illegal migrants overrunning our non-existent borders are quickly turning our once-great country into a third-world pit of despair. 

But hey, the Democrats will get those freeloading parasites non-citizens to vote for them in exchange for free food, health care and housing, assuring they will remain in power forever as the invading foreigners soon outnumber the rest of us.

Hollywood Half-truths Rule the Day

My husband and I recently attended a local screening of the five Oscar nominees for Best Documentary Short Film. As expected they were woke as hell, since Hollywood wants nothing more than to be seen as committed to diversity, equity and inclusion. A mix of preachy films touching on the plight of poor blacks trapped in poverty, the tough road traveled by gays in America and the lives of two very old Chinese women, the most egregious was called The ABCs of Book Banning that had me doing a slow burn in my seat. Not a documentary, it was a 27-minute commercial for a political point of view.

First off, let's be clear: there are no books BANNED in America --at least not in this century! You can still find any book you want to read, online or in a bookstore or library somewhere. Secondly, no books have been BURNED in this century either. Yet this film blithely shows scores of book jackets and dramatically stamps them as BANNED or RESTRICTED or CHALLENGED! One person says "Banning books is burning books." (Uh, no it isn't.) 

Missing are a few important details, like why, where and when they were kept from the public, and exactly what "public" was impacted. While the "banned books" were removed from school library shelves in Martin County, Florida -- damn that Ron DeSantis! --  they were all still available and in print. Quotes shown from the targeted books were cherry-picked to make them sound perfectly wonderful and innocent, leaving out any offensive parts that had deemed them inappropriate for young children.

Elementary school students were restricted from reading Maus, the award-winning opus by Art Spiegelman, not to hide the atrocities of the Holocaust but because of nudity and language. But if their parents had an edition of Maus at home they could read it under the watchful eyes of Mom and Dad. Similarly, the film's snarky narration that accompanied book jackets flashed on-screen lacked any explanation of why, and what age groups were affected.

Also BANNED was Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye. Doing some digging when I got home, I learned that "the moral issues explored are extremely mature and include incest, rape, sexual dysfunction, racism and prostitution." How nice for the tots. And hey -- don't parents have some authority over what their young ones are exposed to? 

This film, boring from start to finish, is an embarrassing display of manipulative, exaggerated over-reach and groupthink by the rabid leftists -- so what else is new? My money is on it winning the Oscar.

What's A Palestinian Worth?

A recent report at NPR News states that Israel and Hamas are embarking on talks in Paris to negotiate a six-week cease-fire: 

"According to the Egyptian officials, some prisoners serving life sentences on alleged terrorism charges will be among the 3,000 Palestinian prisoners to be exchanged for 50 of the civilian Israeli hostages."

In other words, one Israeli is worth 60 Palestinians. That sounds about right.

Signs of Maine

Judging by the lawn signs here in my little town of Freeport, Maine, population 8,784, black lives no longer matter, except to two families on Pine Street and a few more in the outlying areas. What the locals care about these days is being nice, which they telegraph with lawn signs that read, "Be Nice."

This is odd since, as I have written in this space before, the people who live here, both in Freeport and all over the state of Maine, are notoriously not nice. Instead they are insulated, cold, taciturn, humorless, mean, introverted and possibly even a tad antisemitic.

Just like those "Black Lives Matter" signs really meant "Please don't break into my house and hurt me, I love all black people," the "Be Nice" signs mean "I wish I could figure out how to be nice but since I never learned as a child growing up here it's too late to start now, anyway I hope you are nice to me."

Another sign you see frequently around here is "Watch Out for Moose." I have lived in Maine for 15 years and have travelled the state, and have never once seen a moose. My husband says they put those signs up for the tourists to make them feel like they have gone someplace foreign and interesting and Maine-ish. I have to agree. 

In fact, the only sign that means what is says here in Maine is "STOP." My husband learned that the hard way and ended up in jail for a few hours because he didn't. Stop, that is.

What Are You Watching?

I saw an old friend yesterday, someone I hadn't seen in several months.  After the usual greetings and opening pleasantries, we got down to business: "So, what are you watching?" There's even a Facebook group called "What Are You Watching on TV?" It has 4.3 thousand members, so nothing to sneeze at. At a friend's behest I clicked, eager to see what's grabbing the attention of the healthy young masses these days, since I live alone (except for my workaholic husband who travels often) and my friends are older, thus considering surgery, getting ready for surgery, recovering from surgery or just plain miserable.

What I've learned is that, for many people, "watching" has replaced "doing." Night after night, people the world over turn on their TVs -- or their iPads, computers or iPhones -- and plug their brains in Matrix-style to a make-believe world that blots out real life. And why not? Real life is abysmal these days, with wars, political disharmony, inflation, starvation, homelessness, mass shootings, drug ODs and alien invasions at our borders. 

Any fool knows that a good night's sleep depends on mellowing out beforehand, and what better way than with fantasy friends played by good-looking people leading interesting lives? The choices are endless, literally, although a tad cookie-cutter. 

For a breath of fresh air I've been watching The Nanny, a CBS sitcom that aired from 1993-1999. It's hold-your-sides funny. Fran Drescher, the lead, is drop-dead gorgeous and as wacky as Lucille Ball in her heyday, dressed in outrageous outfits of the day. Every episode features a surprise guest star who was major back then and in some cases still is. The script beats anything written these days since the show was created pre-woke, so mocking at all sorts of things like sexuality, obesity, stupidity and all the rest of what is verboten today was commonplace then.

Now streaming on Max.

The Travel Bug Hasn't Bitten Me

I just received a belated Christmas Letter from a friend who explains she was late sending it out because she was traveling and gives the details: January in Mexico and NYC; May in Sicily; June in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania; July in Germany; August and September staycation at her Maine island home; November the Dominican Republic; and December in Argentina and Antarctica.

No spring chicken, this particular friend has undergone two knee replacements and a couple of hips too, yet somehow she has the energy, stamina and will, whereas I had to take a lorazepam just from reading her letter. In fact, planning for my upcoming week-long trip to Florida in early March already keeps me up at night.

Travel has become a nightmare, plain and simple. If you can spare a few hours of your day you may eventually book an affordable plane ticket, but can you afford those necessary extras: a seat and your luggage? Yup, those'll cost you. And forget creature comforts: pillows, blankets, food and even a TV screen on which to watch a movie are now all part of history. And don't forget your earphones or you'll have to buy those on the plane. As for civility, unruly passengers are becoming commonplace, so pack bandages in case someone punches you in the nose for asking their kid to stop kicking the back of your seat.

Cruises might be fun if you can spare an arm and a leg, and if your idea of a vacation is relaxing with 6,000 other people including children and pets, aboard a floating theme park/Vegas nightclub/shopping mall that could sink. Or you might just get seasick and throw up a lot.

Instead, I vacation at home. Today's agenda includes three healthy meals that will be delicious and not cold, plenty of coffee and snacks available without waiting on any lines, and fun activities like hot-tubbing after an afternoon facial and workout in the basement gym. There will be excursions into Portland and South Portland, dinner at home with a friend and an evening show of my choosing. Plus no worry about cancellations, delays, crying babies and mean-spirited flight attendants making me take my seat when I get up to stretch my legs or need to use the bathroom.

The best part is that it's all free! (Excursions extra.)

Alice's Wonderland Makes More Sense

Dr. Jill and Joe Biden hosting their biggest donors.

I heard on the news that Joe Biden's reelection campaign raised $42 million just in the month of January. That's crazy talk! Who is throwing money at an 81-year-old man with a failing memory, increasing dementia and long a history of illegal activities and outright lies so he can be our president? And what is that money being used for? TV commercials denigrating the opposition and billboards, lawn signs, bumper stickers, buttons and pamphlets featuring Joe's creepy, crepey face. Not to mention all those lattes, pizzas and hotel rooms for the staff. And if you write a big enough check, maybe you'll get a fancy dinner at the White House with Joe and Dr. Jill.

There are countless better ways to spend my money, and anyone else's too. Like food for the poor, homeless shelters, and blah, blah, blah -- you know the rest. Politics these days is a hideous waste of money in light of how many Americans are standing on street corners holding signs that read, "hungry, anything helps." 

Imagine if a candidate said, "Donate to my campaign and I will give it to the following causes," listing things like the Red Cross, the Salvation Army, and so many others. That candidate would have my vote, regardless of party. But no such candidate exists in what has become a reality show where the poorest candidate gets voted off the island. I am old enough to remember when the issues facing the country were what mattered, not the size of a candidate's war chest.

The Coming Civil War

There's a new movie scheduled to arrive sometime in April or May, and the trailer for it are running on YouTube now. I watched it and was only slightly worried since it seems to me America has been embroiled in a civil war for many years, so no big deal. When they start shooting and bombing, like in the movie trailer, then I'll worry.

Fortunately I have rid my daily life of most of the enemy, and thank God my only child has finally seen the light and come over to the side of reason and sanity. As for the rest, ta-ta, too bad, so sad.

We are living in a country where nobody has any idea who is running it, certainly not Joe Biden, who was recently deemed "too old and feeble" to stand trial for his past crimes but is somehow still allowed to run for re-election. It's nuts. Anyone who tells you "Joe Biden is fine" is not fine. (At least Trump is cogent enough to go to court, all too often IMHO.) 

When the next civil war starts I shall bolt my doors, turn out the lights and start eating from all the prepper foods we have stockpiled in the basement. Better get some water.

If You Only Had A Brain

I once spent time with a woman who lives on my street. We pretended to be friends but never were, mostly because she was incapable of discussing anything real. So we skimmed the surface, getting together for dinner with our husbands when we would all follow her strict rules forbidding talk of politics, world events, race, gender diversity and anything else that would expose her ignorance about them all.

One day she came for lunch with some other ladies. I served iced tea with lemon, placing a straw into each glass. The aforementioned woman literally shrieked in horror, saying she was "shocked" by my action. I had no idea what she meant. Turns out it was my using plastic straws. "Don't you know they are killing the environment? How could you?"

She had heard that somewhere, probably on CNN, her only news source. I  explained that the four plastic straws we were using in my kitchen would end up in my trash and be incinerated and not choke any seagulls, or whatever she was worried about, but she simply could not grasp that. To her we were picnicking on the seashore and leaving our straws in the sand where they would float out to sea. "Don't you know about the plastic island near Hawaii?" she cried, visibly upset. Apparently all plastic straws end up there. 

 Lack of clear thinking, or thinking at all, has become a huge problem in America and is responsible for the deep chasm that exists between our two warring political parties. According to health physicist Steven Jerkins writing online, "The war on plastic straws is just the latest virtue signaling issue that is a meaningless diversion from the real issue of ocean dumping of garbage."

Hopefully, scientific advances will eventually allow for brain transplants, and people like Mary can one day enjoy the benefits of thinking for herself.

The Truth About Being Old

The worst part of growing old is that most of your friends are doing it too. I say most, because a bunch of them are already dead. In fact, that's the real drag. And while you can certainly make new friends, you can't make new old friends.

The other thing about aging is that you and your also-old friends spend most, if not all, of your time together catching up on everyone's ailments, surgeries, treatments, hospital stays and doctor visits. This at least has one benefit, which is finding out that someone else has it worse than you, or just as bad, which lets you stop thinking, "Why me?"

Hollywood stars are hiding the truth of their lives behind facelifts, tummy tucks, liposuction, body sculpting and Botox injections, but believe me, they're all in the same boat. You can bet that new hips and knees go along with those more glamorous elective surgeries. 

And that's it. Otherwise being old is just like being young, only quieter.

St. Valentine's Day Ripoff

I went shopping for a Valentine's Day card for my husband, even though we both agreed beforehand no cards. Or gifts. Since it's a dumb holiday and brings to mind a mob shooting in Chicago in 1929 known as the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre. Very unromantic.

Anyway, I was in the CVS and there were aisles of cards, candies, stuffed animals, wrapping paper, ribbons, balloons, and lots of trinkets in pink and red that basically took over half the store, so I decided to check out the cards. I found one that I liked well enough but it was priced at $8.99! 

Are they kidding or what? A card is read, looked at once more, set aside and then tossed in the trash a day or two later. I decided my husband would rather have the nine bucks. (Maybe I'll put it in a pink envelope.)

Nightmare in the ER

Last night I had the misfortune of spending fours hours in an emergency room. I was ready for it, having read Dante's Inferno in college -- the ER was the 10th Circle of Hell -- but still it was shocking. Naturally I was in a crabby mood, feeling sick enough to go there, but my mood worsened considerably when I saw the other patients. It was like a meeting of Weight Watchers, but without the hope. Everywhere I looked I saw incredibly out of shape bodies. One of the very fattest belonged to a male doctor who waddled around the place like a penguin. The whole scene was nightmareish.

An image burned into my brain that I'm hoping will go away soon is of an elderly man sitting directly across from me, hooked up to an IV pole. He looked like hell but was eating a Whopper and pulling French fries from a greasy paper bag positioned on his lap. In my delicate condition, extremely nauseous and thinking I was having another heart attack, the food odor totally grossed me out. Here he was in the ER, on an IV drip, and chomping down a burger and fries. Is that even legal?

Two women in their twenties were having a great time together, laughing and scrolling their cell phones as if they were at a singles bar. Neither one seemed the slightest bit sick, unless they had gone there for obesity: the thinner one with the hospital bracelet probably weighed in at 210, while her friend may have hit 250. I wanted to ask why they were there but my husband thought that was in poor taste. 

Most of the other people were quiet and despairing, staring into space or nodding off. I fell into that category. 

I left early, after all my tests but before I got the results, which I was told would take about another hour. I went home and went to sleep and woke up this morning and was thrilled to see that I had not died. I also understood that our health is the only true treasure we have that must be guarded at all costs. To that end, having seen the obvious correlation between obesity and health problems, I may never eat again.

Age Is (Not) Just a Number

Painting Donald Trump as a geezer just like Joe Biden, a front-page headline on today's New York Times reads, "Views Are Split On Candidates Of Similar Age." All I can say about that is, "Oh please." For starters, Trump is 77 and Biden is 81, a difference of four years. But their energy, body language and behavior makes them seem at least a decade apart. Where Biden appears skinny, old and frail, Trump looks burly, tan and ready to rumble.

Being 77 years old myself, I am not "of similar age" to Joe Biden in any way.  Besides walking several miles daily, I work out with a CrossFit trainer twice a week -- lifting weights, doing planks, using a rowing machine, running on a treadmill and riding an Assault bike. Biden can hardly climb a flight of stairs without tripping.

Trump runs round the country, holding rallies where he talks non-stop for hours. He meets and greets his fans as often as possible, between court dates of course. He is often seen on TV talk shows and giving interviews to the press. In fact, he is nothing if not in your face. He plays golf regularly and appears fit, albeit a bit too robust. 

Meanwhile, Biden hides out at one of his three homes. He does not give interviews. He does not meet and greet the public. On those rare occasions when he finds himself in front of a microphone on a podium somewhere, usually inside the White House, he fumbles and mumbles and makes a general mess of the situation.

Several reputable physicians have recently stated that Biden has some sort of senility or dementia, possibly early Alzheimer's, and has worsened considerably since he took office. They agree that there is no possibility of his condition being cured, or even slowing down. A recent report described him as "an elderly man with a failing memory." Who knows how long he will last.

Face it: A vote for Joe Biden is a vote for Kamala Harris, and God knows my cat Lurch could do a better job.

 

The Future Looks Grim

Writing this blog is a daily challenge, one that I often pass on when no subject seems interesting enough to be a worthy read for a wide range of people. Apparently the chief editors at the Wall Street Journal do not suffer from the same restriction: Today's paper contains an article about the unexpected pleasures of not wearing high heels, written by a woman recently diagnosed with foot problems and advised to wear only flat shoes forevermore. 

As a former newspaper writer I skimmed it with my mouth agape, shocked that this silliness was deemed appropriate to print. Who is the intended audience? Possibly transgenders with no history of high-heel wearing, but that's about it.

The dumbing down of our country continues apace, with every day bringing new evidence of how the national IQ is dropping faster than CNN's ratings. A perfect example is my husband's employer, a 200-plus organization that employs no African Americans and only two Jews, yet they have a designated Diversity Officer and an annual, all-staff, mandatory "Diversity Training" day. (Just in case, I guess.)

Maybe it's the national pastime of playing pointless video games -- there are currently 831,00 of them available -- or the increasing consumption of stuffed-crust pizzas and White Chocolate Mocha Creme Frappucinos (550 calories) that's eroding our brain cells and enabling a frail, demented old man to remain as POTUS. Whatever it may be, I implore today's parents of young children to jump in and turn the tide. Our future is in their hands.

These Snowflakes Are All Alike

The old adage that no two snowflakes are alike is true about the ones that fall from the sky, but the other kind -- people who became young adults in the 2010s -- are all cookie-cutter reproductions. I recently felt the sting of one of those, and found her to be like the other members of her generation: easily offended, overly sensitive, emotionally fragile and unabashedly self-righteous. 

This one was a receptionist at a professional organization where I went for a job interview as a writer/editor. About 28 or 30 years old, she was wildly out of character for the position, with long, wild hair, tattoos covering both arms and on her neck, lots of sparkly bling and piercings, and a very low-cut blouse that showcased her cleavage and an ample bosom that was all but spilling out. An unbuttoned cardigan sweater over her blouse added to the studied outfit. She looked great and I told her so, greeting her with,"You look fabulous! You look ready to go out clubbing!"

She thanked me for the compliment, almost gushing as she said, "Oh well, I just threw this on and came to work."

My meeting went well and the two people I would be working with walked me to the front door. We all greeted the receptionist, and I again said, "She looks great, doesn't she look ready to go clubbing?" They agreed, and she laughed. Then I thought better of my comment and said, "Oops, maybe that's not a good thing at work?" Shrugging, she said," Oh well, what can I do?" I was only half-joking when I said, "You could always button up that sweater."

I forgot the incident by the time I reached my car in the parking lot. Then this morning, the man I had met with called. He began by saying how much he had enjoyed our meeting and looked forward to us working together. The he got to the reason for the call. After I left, the receptionist had gone crying to her supervisor to "report" my "telling her to button up." Apparently she was quite upset about it!

It reminded me of an incident last weekend, when a woman of roughly the same age was offended as I tried to reach my seat at the theater. Instead of moving to let me pass, she remained with her legs stretched out, then said innocently, "Oh, are you trying to get by?" I answered laughingly, "Or else I'll have to sit in your lap!"  Both she and her date were horrified. The guy said, "That's a very rude comment!" I was confused  and surprised and he repeated it, all but shaking his pudgy finger at me.

I'm telling you, the day they killed Joan Rivers ten years ago, comedy died with her. I wonder, do young people even laugh anymore?

Great is Good In My Book

I never liked Joe Biden, even when he was young. Hardly anyone did. How could you? He's always been a lying, cheating racist! Yet here he is, holding our highest office in the land and making a mockery of our country. The old geezer actually said just yesterday, in a rare TV appearance, that the "entire trouble at the border" is the fault of Donald Trump! 

Of course he also said he spoke with a dead French President Mitterand just a few weeks ago, so you can't really take the guy at his word. Yet much to the amazement of everyone, the Democrats have nobody ready to replace him, unless you count California's Governor Hair Gel, whose sanctuary state is a hornet's nest of problems and evidence of his dubious leadership abilities, or Vice President Giggles, whose expertise in absolutely nothing is on display daily.

Hey, here's an idea: How about we elect someone with a sound history of success in many ventures, including running the country, who wants to make America great again? Sounds good to me. After all, great is what we all want to be, right? Except for the Democrats, who somehow see it as a negative. I wonder what they want to make America?

Facebook Beauty Pageant

This morning, while checking my Facebook page, I saw that I had received a "notification," which usually means a comment from someone about something I had posted. It might be positive or negative. This time it was pornographic -- a message from some sleazo I didn't read because it was accompanied by a photo of a woman's ass, huge butt cheeks glowing and legs spread wide, her vaginal area barely covered with a thin strip of fabric. I almost threw up my breakfast.

Naturally I deleted it and also reported it, if that does anything. But it reminded me of something that happened recently on Facebook wherein I was deemed the offending party and threatened with dire consequences left unnamed but hinted at. 

It was once of these Reels showing a sick, crying baby in a high-chair, snot dripping from her nose, face smeared with yogurt and bits of food. She was quite unappealing, and I commented, "Yikes! That would talk anyone out of having a baby!" Naturally someone responded to my comment, writing, "How dare you say that? You are a disgusting old woman!"

Now that hurt. I may be old and I may be a woman, but there is nothing about me that is disgusting. So I went to the commenter's Facebook page and saw her photo and folks, really, she was not an attractive woman, at all. So naturally, in defense I responded with, "Saw your picture, you're ugly." After all, she had called me disgusting!

Within seconds of posting my comment a note popped up saying I had "violated Facebook's community standards" and action would be taken unless I deleted the post. I let it stand. I figured if child pornography is permitted  all over Facebook, my saying someone is ugly was small change. And hey, she called me disgusting! Is that better or worse than being ugly? I'm betting that in a beauty pageant, an ugly contestant would win more votes than a disgusting contestant.

These are my thoughts early in the morning before that second cup of coffee.

Going Viral is Chickenshit

A man named John has been posting videos of himself eating raw chicken since January 19. He says he will continue to do so until he gets sick. So far all is well. At least in his tummy. In his head, not so well. Like, he's nuts. 

Raw chicken is known to cause all sorts of bad things, all of which require being near a bathroom. According to the CDC, " If you eat undercooked chicken, you can get a foodborne illness, also called food poisoning. You can also get sick if you eat other foods or beverages that are contaminated by raw chicken or its juices. Every year in the United States about 1 million people get sick from eating contaminated poultry."

My husband all but takes a shower after preparing a meal with raw chicken. To be honest, he leaves the job of handling the stuff to me since he's afraid he'll keel over and die just from touching it.

But this guy John is motivated by the desire to GO VIRAL!!!!! Going viral means lots of people you have never met, and never will meet, hear about you. Then two minutes later they forget about you. In fact, if John sickens and dies he will make a much bigger splash and end up not only in the morgue but on TV's national news.

I would like this post to somehow go viral so people would know that "going viral" is dumb. Instead they should volunteer at their local soup kitchen or do something positive, like stop eating chicken altogether, cooked or raw.

Congress Finds A Scapegoat

Parents hold up pictures of their children who died because of social media.

Go ahead, think of a brilliant and successful genius who is not hated by the general public. Take your time. Okay, now think of one who is. I'll help: Mark Zuckerberg. Steve Jobs (deceased). Elon Musk. Donald Trump. Bill Gates. Rush Limbaugh.

The ugly truth is that your everyday couch-surfing, snack-chomping, non-striving adult sees those who win, and win big, as mocking them, or proving them wrong, or as a threat aimed at them, when really they don't figure into it at all. Recognizing this fact helps to understand why all of Congress finally agreed on something and raked Mark Zuckerberg over the coals recently at a hearing that blamed him for the suicides of scores of teen and pre-teens. 

Supposedly many children were driven to their deaths by Zuckerberg's sloppy stewardship of his brainchild, Facebook (now Meta). Those poor innocents went online with trust in their hearts, then saw bad things or heard bad things and became frightened or depressed enough to end their lives. All because of Zuckerberg! And now Congress is asking just exactly what is he going to do about his invention, "a product that is killing people," in the words of South Carolina's Senator Lindsey Graham. 

The bigger question is what are today's parents of young children willing to do to keep their kids safe, healthy and aware of the potential dangers lurking on the World Wide Web. Nobody asked that. Instead, they heaped blame on the brightest guy in the room. After all, he's very rich and very successful so it must be his fault.

Who Is Our President?

Come on people, you know Joe Biden is not running the country. He's old, frail, feeble, forgetful and can barely utter a sensible sentence. Whenever he is on a stage, which is almost never, he needs help finding the way off. He is led around by his wife, his handlers, his Secret Service guys and God knows who else. Add to that his shady past, his tendency to lie and his involvement with his son's illegal foreign deals and he's a loser all the way. (Kudos to the Democratic Party for recognizing that.)

Then there is his Vice President, hand-picked for her skin color and her gender. Since taking office she has done nothing but giggle girlishly and avoid all responsibility. Are we to believe that if Joe keels over, Kamala will become our leader? Nobody thinks that. So who is running the country? My guess is Michelle and Barack Obama, with a little bit of Clinton thrown in. 

Trump hoped to "make America great again," whereas Obama promised years ago that he would "fundamentally change America." He has succeeded. Any day now, when you make a call the recorded robot will say, "Press 2 to continue in English."

I wonder, how do sheep "Baaaaa" in Spanish?