Black People Bring Back Racism

Black boy kills white boy for no reason other than hatred.

Growing up in the 60s, I didn't know any racists. My parents were hard-core Democrats who socialized with gays and blacks. I attended an integrated high school where several of the black students were among the most popular kids, holding class offices as well. After that, New York University in  downtown Manhattan was the ultimate melting pot. 

As an adult living and working in Washington, DC for 30 years I developed many close friendships with African Americans that began at work and expanded to our activities after hours. My closest (white) female friend of 20 years married a black man, and so he became a key person in my life. Skin color was never an issue.

I moved to Maine, the whitest state when I arrived 15 years ago, and now racism is as rampant here as it is across the country. I believe it all began with those ubiquitous Black Lives Matter signs that turned a lot of white people off, seeing as how the blacks were suddenly self-elevated to greater importance than everyone else. 

Black crime in America has intensified and goes unpunished in many cases. (The elephant in the room is the fact that young blacks commit way more crime than whites.) The latest breach of acceptable civilized behavior involves a black teenager who stabbed a white teenager (see photos above) for no reason, yet his unrepentant parents started a GoFundMe page to cover their legal fees. This audacious step caused many white people to bristle at their arrogant insistence that their son, guilty of murder, is innocent and deserving of sympathy, which oddly enough he has received from the black community. Meanwhile, rumors abound that they are spending the donations -- half a million dollars at last count -- on fancy cars, a new home and other personal perks.

The Race War in America heats up daily, and I am now clearly on the side of the Whites. I think that if my best friend married a black man in today's climate, I would stop seeing both of them.

Political Correctness Update

A group of pigs feasting. 

It's so hard to keep up with what's allowed and what's not. Apparently you can no longer accuse Americans of being piggish, despite mounting evidence to the contrary. I concluded this after reading my edited letter to the editor in today's Wall Street Journal, which was "cleaned up" by the editorial staff. Following is my original letter:

"While l appreciated writer Kyle Smith's censuring of thoughtless theatergoers who munch and crunch during a dramatic performance ("Snacks Are for After the Curtain Call," Opinion, Apr. 14), I fear his ire is misdirected. Let's face it, American have endless appetites and would eat a hot dog, taco or gyro if food trucks were allowed at funerals. So why do theatre-owners, who already rake in average ticket prices in the hundreds, even offer food and drink to audience members? Nobody will die if they don't eat for two and a half hours. And besides, there's always intermission -- let them pig out then!"

The version that appeared in the paper changed the last line to, "And besides, there's always intermission. Let them feast then."

Now, feasting is very different from pigging out. Feasting takes place seated at a big table at Thanksgiving and Christmas and at weddings and bar mitzvahs and in novels by Charles Dickens and the Bronte sisters. It features groaning boards and pitchers of ale. Pigging out is more like what people do these days, usually involving chips or hot dogs or tacos or pizza, often while sitting on a couch in front of a TV or at a ball game, or even a play. 

But apparently "pigging out" is offensive in these politically correct times, when every street corner in our little Maine town has a sign suggesting we all "Be Nice." So don't say "pig out" anymore lest you incur the wrath of the Democrats, who as we all know are so very, very nice.

Dumb Celebrities, Episode 1: Gayle King

This is the first in an ongoing series.

Gayle King, a.k.a. Oprah Winfrey's best friend, is famous for being Oprah Winfrey's best friend. She has used this to great advantage, like getting a small role in the movie The Color Purple, which starred Oprah Winfey, and becoming an editor of O Magazine, the magazine of Oprah Winfrey.

Earlier this week King was one of six women who got to wear matching designer jumpsuits that mimicked astronaut suits (see photo) and go for a 10-minute ride into what is being called "outer space," even though it wasn't really all that outer, being just over the line of the Earth's atmosphere. The ladies, all wearing earrings which you never see on astronauts, posed for a lot of photos and thought they were really hot shit. Which they weren't, as the world let them know soon enough.

Upset at the criticism she and her co-passengers received, due to the exorbitant expense of the rocket ride to nowhere paid for by Jeff Bezos, a very rich man with money to burn, and to the fact that the moronic stunt accomplished nothing, Ms. King has complained bitterly that people did not understand how important their space ride was. "What you're doing in space is trying to make things better here on Earth," she said on some morning TV show the next day.

The ladies on the rocket ride did nothing of the sort. Singer Katy Perry was one of them and she sang a song while on the ride. The other thing they all did was experience weightlessness, something I do every time I swim in the pool at my local Y.

Gayle King is truly a dumb celebrity.

Comparing Two Billionaires

At 53, Elon Musk is the richest man in the world. Jeff Bezos is the second-richest man in the world. It's interesting to see how the two handle their fortunes.

Elon Musk and his son, X.

Musk uses his money for the betterment of all. As the force behind DOGE, the newly-formed agency tasked with rooting out waste, fraud and abuse from our government, he has saved the average taxpayer $938.61 so far. He founded SpaceX in 2002 with the goal of reducing space launch costs and enabling the colonization of Mars. The company has achieved significant milestones, including the development of reusable rockets and successful missions to the International Space Station. 

Most recently he sent a rocket to the International Space Station to rescue two stranded American astronauts who were there for almost nine months and whom our government under Joe Biden chose to ignore. His Tesla, the first modern electric car, continues to drastically cut our air pollution created by traditional gas-powered vehicles. Basically, Musk is committed to doing as much as he possibly can to protect and improve the future of mankind.

Bezos and fiancee Lauren Sanchez.

Bezos, on the other hand, is a self-serving clown who wants nothing more than to bask in the spotlight of fame and flaunt his fortune. The 61-year-old founder of Amazon, which is certainly a good thing, has since done little of benefit for anyone but himself. First he purchased The Washington Post, a liberal rag so slanted you have to bend over to read it, and so what. 

His latest stunt this very week was to send his sexpot fiancee and five other "celebrity" women untrained for the job to "outer space" for an undeclared amount of money, but use your imagination. The cost of the ladies' matching designer flight suits alone likely could feed the inhabitants of a small African nation for a year. This space ride did nothing for anyone except for the riders, who, besides a new blue jumpsuit,  got to "experience weightlessness" for ten whole minutes. But it made the narcissistic Bezos front-page news for at least a few days.

So I ask you, which billionaire brings more shame to America?

Genetically Speaking

My father died of colon cancer when I was 40 years old and pregnant. His doctors told me that as soon as I gave birth I should schedule a colonoscopy and have one every four years after that, since colon cancer can be hereditary. They also suggested I eat plain popcorn daily, and vegetables like broccoli and cauliflower which "act as Brillo pads in the colon," keeping it sparkling clean. Since 1988 I have undergone ten colonoscopies, consumed lots of popcorn and about a million servings of broccoli and cauliflower, and have avoided getting colon cancer.

My mother died when she was 62 as a result of early onset Alzheimer's. Her doctors told me I should do daily crossword puzzles and learn new things to exercise my brain since her disease can be hereditary. I am now too old to get early anything, but I still do a crossword puzzle every day, except on foreign vacations or while deathly ill. Had I done one every day since she died it would have added up to 16,060 puzzles. Since I have traveled abroad often and have been deathly ill  a couple of times, I haven't done that many. But it's part of my morning routine, along with drinking coffee and scooping my cat's litter box.

I'm 78 now and have grown weary of having colonoscopies and doing crossword puzzles. Occasionally I wonder what will get me in the end and what I should have been doing all along to avoid that.

Update On Girl Scout Cookies

Last week our son arrived with two boxes of Girl Scout cookies, hoping to cheer us up as both my husband and myself were down with a nasty strain of bronchitis. He had chosen our two favorites from the past: Thin Mints for his dad and Peanut Butter Sandwiches for me.

My thoughts exactly!

Mitch reported that his cookies were "as good as ever." He recommends sucking the mint icing off, "being very careful to keep  it flat on your tongue and leaving the chocolate wafer intact. Then you get to eat the cookie itself. It's fun," he said, adding "you can also eat all of it at once and then it's crispy, chocolatey and minty." 

As for the Peanut Butter Sandwiches, which years ago were very peanut buttery and satisfying, I took one bite and spit it out. Then, thinking that perhaps I had rushed to judgment, I took another bite but had to spit that out too. It was hard and tasted what I imagine how a piece of cardboard or a bit of a tree branch tastes. Either way, certainly nothing edible. I gave one to Mitch who basically likes any and all foods regardless of quality (except cottage cheese) and he agreed, declaring "Ugh." I trashed the box.

FYI: In March of 2025, the Girl Scouts of the United States were being sued over dangerous heavy metals and glyphosate found in the cookies, which currently cost $6.00 per box. Hey, I don't even use Roundup* on my lawn, I definitely don't want to eat it in a cookie.

* Glyphosate is the pesticide marketed as Roundup.

Have A Woke Passover

Traditional seder plate

For 3,000 years, Jews all over the world have been preparing the same dinner to celebrate Passover, marking their escape from Egyptian enslavement. Passover starts this evening with a feast called a seder. Central to the dinner table is the symbolic seder plate, which has always held bitter herbs, a hard-boiled egg, a green vegetable, charoset (an apple and walnut paste) and a shank bone, each representing a crucial part of the Exodus story: The bitterness of life, the cycle of life, springtime and rebirth, the mortar that enslaved Israelites used in Egypt, and the sacrificial lamb offered to God.

This year we planned on using a modern guidebook, or Haggadah. Perhaps too modern, suggesting these additions to the sacred seder plate: a piece of fair trade chocolate demanding fair labor conditions in developing countries, pine cones calling out for criminal justice reform, an orange showing solidarity with the LGBTQ community, cashews to support the troops and bananas to stand with all refugees.

Oy vey, that is one ginormous seder plate, loaded as it is with all that woke shit. It would take up the whole table! But honestly it doesn't go far enough, excluding many worthy groups from salvation. So we are adding an extra leaf to our dining room table to accommodate a larger seder plate, complete with: 

Two or three Valium, acknowledging the struggle of addiction

A marshmallow Peep, for Christians who believe in the Easter Bunny

A caramel, for those stuck in wheelchairs

A carrot, showing solidarity with the myopic

A pea, for all the little people

Some stewed prunes, for the perennially constipated

A few macaroons, some sponge cake, several candied fruit slices and a chunk of chocolate, for the obese

May all peoples be free from enslavement!

Don't Shoot, I Have A Reese's!

 

Like many people the world over, my husband loves chocolate. He finds it delicious and comforting. And it's quite diverse, being available in so many different forms. You can bake it into a cake or cookie, suck on it, chew it or drink it. Chocolate candy melts on your fingers, offering the extra fun of licking it off. The only down side is that some people become addicted and eat too much of it. (Personally I find it cloying and it usually gives me a stomach ache.)

One positive use for chocolate has gone overlooked: If they gave all the soldiers candy bars instead of guns, wars would turn out much better. Deaths would be greatly reduced, what with all the soldiers busy licking their fingers instead of shooting strangers in the head. And forget PTSD -- returning vets would suffer from diabetes, which is at least treatable.

I suppose this is why Pete Hegseth is Secretary of Defense and not me.

The Height of Stupidity

Nail salon in a shopping mall in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Admit it -- humans are a strange species. Some are extremely brilliant and have invented amazing things, like electricity, penicillin, skyscrapers, the atom bomb, airplanes, anesthesia, space travel and this very computer on which I write these words. So it's hard to grasp how so many members of that same species can be so dumb. In fact, examples of human stupidity far surpass examples of their brilliance, which is sad. So much potential, and often cold hard cash, wasted! 

If my nails looked like this I'd rush to the ER.

A stronghold of the human being's muddled thinking can be found everywhere, across the country: the nail salon. Tucked into suburban strip malls and found on virtually every block in every major city, these businesses rake in millions annually by selling a service that anyone with two functioning hands can accomplish at home for very little cost, and without an appointment: a manicure.

A home manicure costs an average of about six bucks, depending on the cost of the nail polish used. Add another $1.50 for a nail file. That's it. And that same bottle will last for perhaps ten manicures! Whereas a "professional" manicure runs anywhere from $20 to $100, not including a tip for the "manicurist" who dips the little brush into the bottle of nail polish and applies it to the nail while muttering insults at the client under his or breath in a foreign language, often Korean or Vietnamese.

Women and gay men with money to burn have added to this ridiculous practice by painting their toes, called a pedicure. Having painted toes does nothing for anyone, not even the owner of the toes, yet prices for this silliness run from $30 to $180. But here's the best (worst) part: Manicures and pedicures are neither permanent nor long-lasting, so they must be repeated on a weekly or bi-weekly basis. And for what purpose? 

None.

Happy Birthday, Whatever That Means

Today is the birthday of a dear friend of mine who I met when I was about 12 or so, I can't remember. We were pals all through junior and senior high, then lost touch, then found each other on Facebook many years later and renewed our special relationship. I certainly wish her a "happy birthday," as is the custom. But what does that even mean?

My mother always said that she should be the one celebrated on my birthday since she went through nine months of hard labor and then many hours of really hard labor on that particular day. I agreed with her and so always gave her a small gift on my birthday, despite feeling entitled to all the big gifts and parties she piled on me, while nobody else congratulated her.

As for being the birthday girl, like my friend Melva is today, I'm not sure what saying "Happy Birthday" means. I wish for her to be happy every day, not just on the day she was born a million years ago, oops, not really, more like 79 -- which in our society is akin to a million years. (She looks 20 years younger, really.)

And what's with the gifts? Buy me something any day the spirit moves you, I always tell my husband and son. Send me flowers on a random Tuesday. Show your love all year long, not just on the day I escaped the abortionists and made it through the birth canal alive. I know, I know -- I'm wringing the joy out of the celebration. But still, think about it: What's so special about getting a year older, besides not dying yet? Why must we focus on our age so much? Are we trees? Historic buildings? Fighter jets?

One of my favorite questions: How would you act/feel if you didn't know your own age? My personal answer: A heckuva lot better! I'm only two months behind my friend, and I gotta say turning 79 sounds pretty sucky to me, although God, if you are reading this, I definitely want to, so don't try any funny business.

And Life Goes On....

I have been sick for the past 10 days, who knows with what. Bronchitis? The flu? One doctor said no pneumonia, another said yes pneumonia. Cough, cough, cough, hack, hack, hack -- all day and all night, enough to wake the dead, although none of them have shown up at my house. Anyway, to put it mildly I'm miserable, so when I read the headline on AOL , "Stanley Tucci's 6 Tips for Making Soup Are Life-Changing" I jumped on it, since right now changing my life sounds very appealing.

Sadly, the headline had over-promised, suggesting things I already do. So my life wasn't going to change after all. But at the end of the article it referenced another one entitled, coincidentally, "Ina Garten's 6 Tips for Making Soup Are Life-Changing." So then I clicked on that one right away, thinking who knew making soup could be so life-changing? Alas, it turned out that Ina's suggestions, like cooking the soup on simmer and using a Dutch oven, were also things I already do.

Damn those headline writers! I guess I'm stuck with this cold for a while. 

Live Well While You Can

New York City fashion designer Kenny Bonavitacola, dead at 71.

Go ahead and waste your precious life fighting with strangers online over things beyond your control, what do I care? Your life may be shorter than you can imagine, and if you choose to fritter it away by slinging insults into the global system of interconnected computer networks, go for it. But first listen to this story.

Two weeks ago a friend, age 71, complained of "not feeling well" and so went to see his doctor. The doctor ran several tests which resulted in a diagnosis of Stage-4 pancreatic cancer. After spending the next thirteen days in the hospital, Kenny died. You heard me -- just shy of two weeks from diagnosis to death for this wonderful and talented man who leaves behind scores of grieving friends and family members.

Imagine that's you. I know -- it sucks. So spend each day wisely. Spitting hateful invectives into the void does not qualify.

What Kind of Moron?

What kind of moron thinks that settling political differences in the United States, arguably the most sophisticated and powerful country in the world, should involve setting cars on fire, defacing cars, destroying car dealerships and protesting outside of those dealerships with handwritten signs accusing the maker of a particular car of being a Nazi, based on absolutely no evidence?

Sounds crazy, doesn't it? Especially when you consider that the very car being discredited, defaced and defamed is the same one that just a year ago was thought to be The Savior of the Planet and the MUST HAVE car of the century if you cared at all about the environment and the future of the planet's very existence, and if you called yourself a woke liberal.

In case you are slow, the kind of moron described above is a Democrat and the car in question is a Tesla and the maker of the car accused of being a Nazi is Elon Musk. Now we all know that Democrats have been stupid in many ways before this, like electing an elderly man with Alzheimer's as President and a dumb black woman as his Vice President, then denying that he's demented and she's totally unfit for the job.

Think about it. Are you a moron?

We Need A Vaccine for TDS

Lately I've been hearing about an uptick in pancreatic cancer, one of the worst kinds of cancer. It has stricken two of my friends, and several friends of another friend, causing speculation that it is the result of the Covid-19 vaccine. I'm not saying that's a fact, but some of those people received many Covid shots over the last three years. 

Like with most diseases, patients have no recourse but to do what their doctors advise, although research  reveals there is little consensus among the medical community. But at least there are treatment options available. That's not the case with another disease that is spreading wildly, ripping apart families and friendships: Trump Derangement Syndrome (TDS). 

Stage 4 TDS patients, ranting about Elon Musk.

What started as a jokey term for people who loved Trump beyond all reason has jumped over to those who hate him in the extreme, and turned into a veritable sickness. Now it's causing otherwise normal citizens to resort to violence for no good reason, like setting fire to Tesla dealerships, defacing Tesla automobiles parked on the street and in private driveways, and even confronting Tesla drivers face-to-face with evil intent.

A recently emerging symptom of TDS seems to be the delusional belief that Tesla's inventor, Elon Musk, is a crazed Nazi bent on world takeover who steals money from old people, wrecks our government and enriches his billionaire friends. This hogwash is based on nothing but Democrat groupthink aimed at ruining the presidency of Donald Trump, much as the Russian collusion hoax dominated his first term. 

If any of the stricken Democrats ever heard an interview with Mr. Musk they would know that he has nothing but good in his heart. Instead TDS has them foaming at the mouth and hearing voices, including those of Anderson Cooper, Nancy Pelosi, Senators Schumer and Sanders, nutcase Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, and those two old devils, Maisie Herono and Maxine Waters. 

I just hope they find a vaccine soon, before it's too late.
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Fat Life Imitates Fat Art

I don't know what happened to the MeToo movement of 20 years ago, and Gloria Steinem's Ms. Magazine, and the whole Women's Liberation  thing, but these days hordes of young women have zero self-respect -- or as their generation would say, zero self-respect for themselves. This sorry state of affairs is evident all across the Internet where grossly overweight and appallingly unattractive women post videos of themselves dressed in ill-fitting, tiny bikinis that expose bulging rolls of back fat, huge stomachs, flabby flapping arms and repulsive thunder thighs, making this viewer want to vomit. 

Yet they stand there and smile, turning dainty pirouettes to show us their enormous, cellulite-ridden butt cheeks, as if they are teeny supermodels on the runway during New York's Fashion Week. Who is responsible for this embarrassing behavior and why is it becoming so prevalent? Certainly we can't blame it on Barack Obama, like so many other unfortunate things that we can. (Joe Biden's presidency and that Peter Principle-poster child, Kamala Harris.)

Could it be that fat women yearn to be seen as sexy and beautiful, like their thinner counterparts? Or is it simply that there are now so many obese people that the tide is turning and fat is actually becoming beautiful, turning the painter Fernando Botero's fantastic images into reality?

I hope not. 

Just Shoot Me

 "Model Heidi Klum's all-black look hopped aboard both the plunging blazer trend and the sheer skirt trend, both of which have been making the rounds as spring approaches."

Elise Stefanik: Presto, Chango!

Elise before......

Rep. Elise Stefanik madę a name for herself during the Congressional hearings concerning antisemitic student protests at college campuses last year, including Columbia University. Her forthright and aggressive questioning was instrumental in the resignations of several school presidents, making her a new Republican heroine. Back then she was a firebrand and a regular, down-to-earth gal you might run into at the supermarket or a PTA meeting. 

Then President Trump named her to be our Ambassador to the UN. Last night she appeared on FOX News and we all got a good look at the new and improved Elise, now a glamor girl extraordinaire: The hairstyle du jour, the flirty eyelashes, the glossy lips and the statement pearls. Wow, what a difference!

.... and after, ready for Prime Time!

Although not a good one -- poor Elise looked ridiculous. Let's just say she's simply not the glamorous type. She seemed all set for Halloween, dressed as one of those ubiquitous TV news-babes.

I wonder -- will she ever be her own person again or will Elise Stefanik eventually morph into our first female President? (Remember, you heard it here first.)

I'm A Racist Now, I Guess

Rep. Jasmine Crockett (D-Texas)

I recently got into one of those online pissing matches on Facebook. It began when I joined a comment stream about FOX News analyst Judge Jeanine Pirro, a woman of extreme intelligence who, in a video, criticized Rep. Jasmine Crockett, the potty-mouthed Texan who called Governor Greg Abbott "Hot Wheels" and later denied she was referring to his wheelchair.

Judge Jeanine was amazed that Crockett had so many defenders in the Democrat party, and I added my two cents by writing, "No surprise there, they all voted for Kamala Harris for president." I was of course referring to Harris' utter lack of brain power and abilities, not her skin color. But one person on the stream, a black woman, replied directly to me with, "Are you a racist?" I responded that I was not, but she doubled down and insisted I was. Exasperated, I wrote, "I am now! People like you create racism."

Here's my beef: One cannot criticize a person of color for any reason without being accused of racism. That's just insane; there are plenty of stupid, ignorant, murderous black people who are deserving of criticism, and saying so doe not make one a racist. Or does it? Are we to pretend that all blacks are above reproach? Because that's a stretch. And BTW, verbally criticizing a Jew who is deserving of criticism does not make one antisemitic. It's the gassing to death we object to.

Under the Influence

Typical influencer: Stegosaurus was very big, with a tiny brain. 

I am currently reading an interesting book called "The Last Days of the Dinosaurs," by Riley Black. It relates how a 7-mile-wide asteroid struck the Earth and killed most of the giant beasts immediately, making way for the emergence of mammals. We've had a good long run, but we're getting pretty close to the end.

Proof that the human race is destined for extinction is the emergence of a new profession, called an "influencer." There are many of these people online who gain star-status by posting photos and videos of themselves living their lives, as if their lives are superior to everyday folks who are not narcissistic assholes lacking recognizable skills and talents.

Personally I am not influenced by anyone other than my cardiologist who advises me on how to avoid a second heart attack. So I was surprised to read the dictionary definition of the word: "An influencer is an individual who has the power to affect the purchasing decisions of others because of their authority, knowledge, position, or relationship with their audience."

I disagree. Take, for example, the case of influencer Joshua Blackledge, a high school junior with 1.1 million TikTok followers whose recent death (reason undisclosed) made the news. The boy's posted content varied between lip-syncing clips, pictures of cars and videos of him hanging out with his teenage friends and girlfriend. 

All I can say is, "Help me, Rhonda." (Not everyone will get that.)

A Fact of Life

A tragic story about a teenage boy who died of food poisoning while on vacation with his parents made it into the news because the boy's father is a retired Major League Baseball player. It's heartbreaking and there is nothing anyone can say to make it less so. But the parents tried, by saying that their son "lived life to the fullest." 

Which is crazy, admit it. Living life to the fullest indicates that someone lived until maybe 100 years old or more. Certainly not to 14 -- that's just getting started. What else could it mean? How is living life to the fullest actually done? Personally I have never tried it, but I think it involves surfing in Hawaii.

Another common thing said about a dead loved one is that "their smile lit up the room" when they entered it. Also ridiculous. I am in my late 70s and have been present at countless wedding receptions, holiday parties, neighborhood potlucks, community meetings  and other events attended by many people and not once have I ever seen any room "light up" when a particular person walked in smiling.

The recently deceased are often the sweetest and kindest and most generous people about whom nobody has a negative word to say. Apparently death makes people nicer. Anyway, why every single death is such big news is odd, since it happens to everyone. Even Freddie Mercury died, and he was surely some sort of god.

Name-Calling the Rich and Powerful

I asked Google who is the most powerful politician in the world. The answer came back as a ranked list of countries determined by Forbes, with the United States in first place. Second was China and third was Russia, making Donald Trump the most powerful leader in the world today. I then asked Wikipedia who is the most powerful man in the world. The answer came back: Elon Musk.

These answers were amusing considering the piles of verbal excrement in the form of user comments dropped all over the Internet, like dog poop in a vast public park. One of those I came across earlier today was written by someone named Scotty who cited President Trump as "a jerk nobody." That made me laugh out loud.

Donald J. Trump, currently serving his second elected term as POTUS, masterminded a successful TV show that ran for 15 seasons, was the driving force behind the construction of countless skyscrapers and hotels in Manhattan, owns 18 golf courses around the world, and has a beautiful wife and five successful children. (No drug addicts or alcoholics.)

Elon Musk is a veritable engineering genius who at age 53 is the richest man in the world, has 13 children, co-founded six huge companies that employ thousands of people and benefit mankind and now works in the Trump administration seeking to eliminate fraud and waste in government.

IMHO, America could use a lot more "nobodies" like Trump and a lot fewer Facebook trolls like Scotty.
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Life Without Rosie

I keep seeing videos posted online by Rosie O'Donnell, the former celebrity whose career no longer exists, talking about how happy she is in Ireland where she moved a few months ago because Donald Trump was elected president. Apparently she simply had to leave the U.S. because her hatred for Trump is so intense that she couldn't stay here and she wants everyone to know. In her online videos, she relates in a grim tone that everyone in Ireland has been so sweet and kind to her and that now she's happy again.

Since Rosie left the country my life has not changed at all. I still have ten pounds to lose, am allergic to bug bites and can't decide whether to cut my hair or to let it grow. 

I wonder why celebrities think they are so important.

A Few Questions for Democrats

What would you do if you found out that Jonas Salk, the inventor of the vaccine that virtually ended polio, was a pederast? Would you not have your child vaccinated?

How do you feel about the fact that the "father of the pill," Carl Djerassi, was a Jew -- you know, those people who are killing Palestinians? What if you learned he was also a Republican? Would you stop using the pill for contraception?

Let's say you find out that Sam Porcello, a food scientist who worked at Nabisco for 34 years and invented the Oreo cookie, was a wife-beater and possible rapist. Would you never buy an Oreo ever again, or ice cream containing Oreos, even if your kids begged you? 

I imagine everyone scoffed at the idiocy outlined above, yet not buying a Tesla -- the electric car that just a year ago was going to save the planet -- or setting fire to a Tesla, or bombing a Tesla showroom now seems appropriate to Democrats stricken with Trump Derangement Syndrome. All because Tesla's inventor Elon Musk is pals with Donald Trump. That's how dumb they are.

Cool Whip Nation

Lately I've become addicted to desserts. Not eating them, but watching them being prepared in those highly popular Reels flooding the Internet. Rather than deleting them, I opted to get on board and see why Cool Whip figures in perhaps 75% of the recipes posted by all the virtual cooks. (Real cooks don't use it, instead they use authentic cream, like from a cow, and whip it.) 

Today I saw a video wherein two giant-sized Hershey chocolate bars were melted and combined with a large-sized container of the white stuff, then poured into a pre-made graham cracker crust and refrigerated until it hardened into a "pie."

Delving into what makes up the vomitrocious (yes, it's a real word) topping lest I have been judging it too harshly, I learned the ingredients are, in order of quantity: water, hydrogenated vegetable oil, high fructose corn syrup, corn syrup, and skim milk. Alas, Cool Whip is mostly syrupy oil. In other words, "Good grief -- don't eat that!"

In order to fairly inform an unsuspecting public, the product needs a new name. I like Heart Attack Helper, sort of a play on Hamburger Helper, another popular load of processed crap. High-fructose corn syrup is about 55% fructose, a type of sugar that is harder for your body to break down than regular sugar, or glucose. Ingesting large amounts can lead to serious health issues.

Second choice: Suicide Sauce. This is more honest as hydrogenated vegetable oil can increase "bad" cholesterol (LDL) and lower "good" cholesterol (HDL), increasing the risk of heart disease. This oil is linked to various adverse health effects, including impaired blood sugar control and inflammation.

So there you have it. Eating Cool Whip is definitely not cool.
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What Are You Complaining About?

Most people I know, including me, kvetch about this and that, constantly. Problems like a clogged toilet, a stopped-up sink, a flat tire, bad peaches, spoiled milk, too much snow and a sick cat fill the time between watching this week's favorite Netflix series and going to work at a boring job. But hey -- everyone should cheer up! Much worse things happen every day to regular people like all of us. For example, just by turning on my computer I learned the following: 

A young mother of three was on vacation with her family in Mexico when they got caught up in a 10-car pileup on the highway. The truck in front of them carrying hot asphalt flipped over onto their car, trapping the woman underneath and covering her  with the hot asphalt. She died a few days later at a local hospital.

An American Airlines flight ran into a problem that forced all the passengers to evacuate, with many standing on a wing of the plane as the other one burst into flames.

Questions remain surrounding the death of actor Gene Hackman, who at 97 died alone in his home after surviving a week of no food, no care, no nothing because his wife died before him and his three worthless adult children, who stand to inherit his $80 million fortune, never checked in on them, despite Hackman having Alzheimer's.

So, what are you complaining about?

Sick of Black People

Let me clarify: I'm sick of black people playing the race card -- boo hoo, poor us. In case one has forgotten, we have already had a black president and VP. We have 139 black senators and congressmen/women. There are currently 1.79 million black millionaires and more than 50,000 black-owned businesses in America.

My message to black Americans: Quit your bellyaching, for just five minutes, I beg of you. Your skin color is not what's holding you back.

Why I Never Listen to NPR

On NPR's "Fresh Air,"  a show I have never seen or heard, Bill Burr, a comedian I have never seen or heard, mocked Elon Musk as a "guy with dyed hair plugs and a laminated face" who "makes a bad car and has an obsolete social media platform." He also asked why liberals are "so afraid of this neo-Nazi who can't fight his way out of a wet paper bag."

Okay, let's examine Mr. Burr's comments one by one:

1. Dyed hair plugs: I have never accompanied Mr. Musk to his barber so the state of his hair follicles remains a complete mystery to me, unlike Joe Biden's hair plugs who everyone knew about and led to departed radio personality Rush Limbaugh calling him "Plugs." If indeed Musk does have hair plugs and does dye them, how is this a character flaw?

2. Laminated face: The definition of laminated is "composed of layers bonded together." What does that even mean? That Musk has layers of skin applied to his own skin? What? I'm confused.

3. Bad car: Here is a review of Musk's car from a real-life driver named Julie who posted her sentiments on a Consumer Affairs website: "I did it! I traded my 2001 Toyota Corolla for a 2024 Tesla Y! The drivability is off the chart! It’s a one pedal driving. You don’t use the brake! When you lift off the accelerator it starts slowing the car down to a complete stop at a stoplight. The Torque is off this chart. You don’t know what real Torque is until you drive a Tesla. It makes driving way easier. I’m a person who is not good with driving cars that I'm not familiar with. When I drove this car it was a natural fit for me. This car is very intuitive and user friendly! Tesla made it really easy to buy through the app. I also purchased Tesla insurance. It's way cheaper. I’m in awe of the Tesla experience!"

4. Obsolete social media platfrom: "In early 2025, X (formerly Twitter) boasts an estimated 650 million monthly active users. For those curious about how many users are on X daily, the figures range from 240 to 300 million."

5. Neo-Nazi: Musk has repeatedly called the suggestion that he’s an antisemite absurd. “My entire life story is, in fact, pro-semitic," he told one interviewer. Though he is not from a Jewish family, he loves telling people that his first name means "oak" in Hebrew and that he attended Rachel Spiro Hebrew Kindergarten, a Jewish preschool in Pretoria, South Africa. His father took him to Israel when he was 13 and he’s hiked Masada twice. He has taken several of his own children to visit Auschwitz.

6. Can't fight his way out of a wet paper bag: This is perhaps the stalest and dumbest of all stale, dumb insults that means absolutely nothing. How big is that paper bag and why is it wet anyway?

Making Sense of Nonsense

A news article I read online described the harrowing experience of a 41-year-old woman who survived for six days in her crashed car until rescuers finally found her. She supposedly had fallen asleep at the wheel and the car went off the road and into a deep ravine, 80 miles from Chicago.

The article stated up front that she was unable to move her legs. She had no cell phone service, food or water. So how did she stay alive? According to her father, "she used her sweater to retrieve water from a nearby creek –– wringing it into water and drinking from it." But if she was unable to move her legs, how did she get from the car to the creek, which was "nearby?" How nearby? Was it actually in the creek?

I went straight to the comments section following the article expecting everyone to have raised the question. But no. The first comment was, "Impeach Trump." The next said, "She should have pulled over and taken a nap." The next said "it was a miracle." Another said she should have carried flares in her car. Lots more like that, but nobody wondered how she got from the car to the creek.

It's so scary out there. 

What Was Your Name Again?

Most mornings I write a blog post and by nightfall I can't remember if I wrote one, or if I did, what it was about. I also rarely remember what I had for dinner the night before, yet I can instantly recall the price and the circumstances surrounding the purchase of every item in my vast collection of original paintings, photographs, hand-blown glass pieces and unique ceramics. 

Experts agree that there is a difference between short- and long-term memory, and that short-term memories are more fleeting as we age. I can understand that. But what I can't understand is how I remember minute details about dates with relative strangers I saw just once over 30 years ago but cannot recall one evening spent alone with my first husband, who I was with for 13 years. I have often wondered why this is true and so did some snooping online. Here's what I found at a site called "Ask the Psychologist."

"Under stress we don’t record our memories consistently. High levels of stress often produce prolonged periods of time with little or no memory. Under stress, we can’t retrieve our memories as well. Stress changes body and brain chemistry, making memory recovery difficult."

Thank God we divorced.

Facebook Frowns on the F-word

In my last post, a review of the film Anora that won Oscars for Best Actress, Best Picture and Best Director, I used the F-word countless times, mocking how often it is heard in the film -- like maybe a million times. Facebook removed my post from several places I had posted it for being "against community standards."

Since 2007 I have rarely if ever have used that word in my blog, except maybe quoting someone. Funny how it's a no-no on Facebook but the Motion Picture Academy loves it, as they do pornography. Maybe if I throw in some pictures of naked people doing unspeakable acts my blog will get an Oscar.

Film Review: ANORA

Full Disclosure: I only lasted 30 minutes. And that was because we had paid $5.99 to rent it online and my husband was into it. And why not -- it was pure pornography for the first half hour. 

A 23-year-old stripper/prostitute from Brooklyn meets the 21-year-old son of a rich Russian oligarch and has sex with him in as many positions she can, and we get to watch. Naked, she sits on his lap. He enters her from the rear. She spreads her legs constantly. We see her butt cheeks more than anything else. And the butt cheeks and breasts of lots of other girls too. Is this what acting is now, in the year 2025?

I'm sorry, but the story didn't grab me. His parents come from Russia to end their marriage. (They got married.) I hated the lead actors. Remember, I only saw the first half hour. However, I can still fucking hear it as I write this since my fucking husband is watching it in the other room. There is an unbelievable amount of high-pitched screaming and crying and Russian accents and the word "fuck" and "fucking." Like maybe they say it every other fucking word.

Final thoughts: It is shocking that this won the fucking Oscar for Best Picture, Best Actress, Best Director and a couple of other fucking things I don't know. Are they fucking kidding? The fucking young woman who won the Best Actress award is one fucking lucky little brat. Glenn Close must be fucking plotzing.

Virtue Signaling Comes To A Screeching Halt

In the beginning, electric cars were a must for any Democrat worth his, her, their or its salt. You simply had to have one to save the planet! If you still drove a gas-guzzling, old-fashioned car you were a pig who didn't care about killing all of us, and probably a racist too. There were no words vile enough to describe you.

The Tesla was the darling of the electric-car set. It was cool and despite being expensive it broadcast to everyone what you were: a caring, thoughtful, non-racist environmentalist. And its inventor, Elon Musk, was the idol of all of them: brilliant, handsome and fabulously wealthy, he would save us all by saving the planet! Everyone worshipped him.

Oh, but then. But then he got chummy with Donald Trump -- Putin's Bitch, The Tyrant Who Would End Democracy. Even worse, Elon joined forces with Trump in his quest to become King and make all black people slaves again. Suddenly the Tesla was a piece of shit! According to an article in today's Wall Street Journal, Los Angeles Tesla owner Garth Ancier says, "it's like driving a big red MAGA hat." He wants to sell his car now, adding, "If not for his [Elon's] behavior I'd probably stick with a Tesla."

The Democrats have gone crazy suffering from MDS (Musk Derangement Syndrome). Five of their senators have asked the Justice Department to investigate Musk's business practices regarding his website X. Boycotts against Teslas are spreading like the measles across the country. Electric-car charging stations have been vandalized and random Teslas parked on the street have been set on fire.

I guess they never really cared about saving the planet after all.

Your Opinion Matters

The great thing about opinions is that they are free, which means everyone can have one. Every last one of America's 340 million citizens -- except for infants and others whose brains are not fully formed -- be they rich or poor, old or young, black or white, sick or well, and anything else you can think of, is entitled to one. 

The definition of opinion is, "A belief or conclusion held with confidence but not substantiated by positive knowledge or proof. " So basically, you are either right or wrong about everything. Try to keep that in mind before pontificating about Donald Trump and Elon Musk and the liberals and the conservatives.

Miracle At The Symphony

"Stranger danger" is the idea or warning that all strangers can potentially be dangerous. Usually it applies to young children being exploited or abducted by someone unknown to them. But it can mean other things too. Like last night, when I was excited to hear my favorite piece of symphonic music (Thus Spake Zarathustra by Robert Strauss) played by the wonderful Portland Symphony Orchestra, only to have my excitement quashed by a total stranger who spilled her guts all over me before the concert began.

My husband and I had arrived early enough to read the concert notes and learn about Strauss and his impetus for writing the piece. But that was not to be. Instead, the lone woman in the seat next to mine started a conversation. She was nice enough, and I didn't want to be rude so I politely engaged with her. Next thing you know she was deep into a monologue wherein I learned the following: 

She hadn't attended the symphony for many years because she was stuck at home caring for her aging father. He could walk with a walker or a cane but was unsteady on his feet so could not be left alone. He could go to the bathroom by himself, until the last six months, but she had to make all his meals. He finally died in mid-January at age 100 and then she had to take care of the funeral arrangements, etc.

She lives with her son who just barely graduated high school saying,"It was hard but he did it. No college though." Now he is working as a cook at the Embassy Suites.

Her mother passed away three years ago and that was very hard for her. She teared up while saying that.

My mind was blown. I couldn't see any way out. The concert was about to begin and I worried she would talk to me for the next two-plus hours. All I could do was pray to God that she would magically disappear, when suddenly a man came down our row holding up his ticket and saying," I think you're in my seat." He was right: we were in Row Q and Chatty Kathy was supposed to be in row O. She got up and moved and the nice quiet man sat down next to me.

I was thrilled. A miracle had occurred! It wasn't until later that night that I got sort of annoyed: Sure, God answers my teeny little prayers but ignores all the big stuff. Oh well, I guess it's better than nothing.

Series Review: ZERO DAY

Wouldn't you know it -- POTUS is a black woman!

Suddenly everything stops: clocks, cell phones, TVs, computers, lights, train signals, airplane control towers, hospital ventilators, and definitely the coffee machines at every Starbucks. If it was plugged in, it stopped. Then, exactly a minute later everything starts up again but nothing is the same. Many people have died. 

This is the premise of a new series on Netflix called Zero Day, starring the obnoxious windbag formerly known as Robert DeNiro who doesn't understand that half the audience voted for Trump so he should STFU about how much Republicans suck and just read his damn lines. Anyway, despite hating DeNiro I'm interested so tell me more....

In the second episode they told me more -- so much more that I had to turn it off for being too stupid. Here are some of the story lines stuffed into this silly effort:

Former POTUS Mullen (DeNiro) is called in from retirement to calm the public.

His congresswoman daughter opposes him publicly.

His ex-mistress (and mother of his love child) meets privately with his wife. 

His right-hand man is secretly sleeping with his congresswoman daughter.

He has creeping dementia and gets all crazy in his head and nobody knows.

A Russian bad guy is sneaking around shooting people.

A group of terrorist hackers are found dead in their hideout.

The lead hacker works for the CIA.

Of course the new POTUS is a black woman.

Sorry, life is too short. Watch Paradise on Hulu instead, it's great!