So many jobs, so many deadlines met, so many turkeys stuffed and laundry folded and paintings shown and presents wrapped and important functions not to be late for. Now I have little reason to be on time anywhere.
This time will pass, I'm guessing. Until then, there's always another painting waiting for more paint.
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| Average Maine Democrat. |
Just yesterday one of the signs was found on the ground, torn to pieces. It followed the MO of the typical Democrat around these parts: someone impossible to reason with because of their blind allegiance to The Party. These are, after all, the very same people who voted for Kamala Harris for president, if you can wrap your head around that one, and would vote for Socialist wacko Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, should she make a run for it in 2028.
Putting it plainly, most Mainers are mean -- in fact they should be called Meaners -- and the Democrats are the worst of the lot. A perfect example can be found on Hupper Island, an idyllic car-free refuge 90 miles north of Portland. About two dozen families spend their summers there, and Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. has been one of them for the past 20 years. Until recently he was a good friend to all the other islanders, helping them out in times of need and partying together at the Independence Day annual picnic.
Not anymore. These days Roberts is shunned by all, with some people insulting him publicly. One particularly vindictive woman has taken to kayaking back and forth in front of his island getaway with a sign that reads "Justice For All," inferring that he is responsible for justice for none because of his Supreme Court decisions impacting abortion, immigrants and transgenders.
Maine's state's slogan is, "The Way Life Should Be." That's definitely outdated. Instead it should be, "Life Our Way or Get The Fuck Out."
This morning this headline caught my eye on an online news site: "This New England beach town is an affordable alternative to the Hamptons." Since I live in New England and have visited the Hamptons on vacation more than once, I clicked. Alas, the story was riddled with errors. The supposed "beach town" in New England is not only NOT a beach town but it isn't in New England, not even close.
Turned out the story was about Shelter Island, out on the end of Long Island in New York. And to make matters worse, it is not affordable at all, unless you are extremely wealthy. It is beautiful, I've been there a few times but never thought of it as a "beach town." It's not at all as descried in the article that is printed as factual on a news website.
The other day I saw a video of a dance number in which Judy Garland was identified as Ann Reinking. The only thing those two have in common is they are both dead.
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| Tony Soprano at target practice. |
Yesterday the state of Tennessee tried to execute a woman who murdered someone 30 years ago, simply because she "felt mean" that day. (She slashed her victim's throat and crushed her skull with a rock, keeping a piece of it as a souvenir.) Imprisoned since then, finally the day came when they were to rid society of the soulless monster they had been feeding, clothing, housing and caring for over the last three decades, at the taxpayer's expense.
They strapped her to a gurney and began injecting some chemical cocktail into her veins intended to shut down her organs, only it didn't work. She continued to breathe and could be heard snoring. So they wrapped her up and sent her to a local hospital, where I suppose they will make her well enough to try killing her again.
If only they had watched The Sopranos they would know that you can end a life in a nano-second with a bullet to the head, or maybe the heart. Bada-bing, it's over -- no fuss, no mess. (Well, some mess.)
Jesus, who's in charge around here?
She gets all this money for running around a gymnasium dribbling a big bouncy ball and tossing it into a high, rimmed net every so often. Pretty nice gig, if you ask me. But wait, there's a downside: She will not tolerate anyone pointing at her! After all, she is black and we know that black lives matter, and pointing at someone must mean they don't matter. Right?
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| A'ja cries after the pointing. |
1. I get out of bed in the morning to drink coffee. It is my main motivation.
2. People who don't drink coffee cannot be trusted. What's wrong with them?
3. I take my coffee black and immediately like people who do the same.
4. People who add cream and sugar to their coffee are not adults. They are having a baby drink, which BTW adds hundreds of calories to their diets over time.
5. If a doctor told me I had to stop drinking coffee I would get a new doctor.
6. Patrons of Starbucks who order specialty drinks like Spiced Pumpkin Lattes or Chai Tea Mochas or God Knows What Double Frappuccinos are posers.
7. I prefer American coffee to coffee in any foreign country I have visited, including all of Europe, Canada and Haiti.
8. Coffee does not keep me up at night.
9. Decaf coffee is almost always gross and instant coffee is truly despicable.
10. Coffee should always be brewed using freshly ground beans.
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| Not all Furries are cuddly! |
I may be a lot of things, but crazy isn't one of them. I am judgmental, sarcastic and often depressed. I suffer from hyper-empathy and a firm belief that I know better than most people how to do things the right way, but as a native New York Jew surrounded by many Mainers who proudly declare they have never left the state, it's likely the case. And oh yes, I can be imperious.
But, as I say in the title, I am not crazy. And you know who is? Furries who identify as animals, and not just animals but stuffed animals, and transgenders who think they can undo God's work, and Maine's elected leaders who have chosen to distribute clean needles to heroin addicts and Narcan nasal sprays to opiate users to avoid an overdose. (That's called enabling, by the way.)
I wonder, if I were to buy some would my cat get younger? Would the incision on my nose heal sooner than the 12 weeks I was told to expect? How, exactly, would it benefit me? And if it wouldn't, why do they keep hawking it?
Celebrity endorsements have always mystified me. This one's favorite lasagna recipe, that one's favorite bedroom slippers -- it goes on and on. Does anyone think that using a product with a movie star's name attached will improve their lot in life? And if so, who are those people? How does someone get that way?
My cat, and I say my cat but really he is my son's cat who we took in 16 years ago "for a few months" until he got situated, sits at the door, desperate to go out into the darkness where there might be rabid raccoons, or foxes, or bats, according to the local neighborhood chat page online, but I remain unmoved. I wonder, would Oprah's favorite mascara make him feel better? Maybe I should order some.
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| Amy's spirit lives on in our food processor! |
When we called a repairman for our dryer a few years ago, he bluntly said it was not fixable, adding that, "These days appliances are built to last between six and eight years." When the fan in our built-in microwave stopped working, we learned that they don't make that part anymore, forcing us to install a whole new unit.
So you see, our Braun food processor is a champ. It has gotten constant use bordering on abuse, considering the number of cookies, cakes, pies, soups and stews it has been called upon for chopping, grinding, pureeing and mashing for 39 Thanksgivings and Passovers, countless birthdays and too-many-to-count platters of guacamole, hummus, eggplant salad and spinach dip with nary a break in the action.
Sadly, our dear friend Amy who gave us the food processor died two years ago, but her generous gift is still going strong. Kudos to Braun: those Germans certainly know how to do things right, even when they're doing something terribly wrong.
Wrong. Sometimes it is a big deal. Like in my case, where the surgeon must have used a melon baller to eradicate the basal carcinoma cells from the bridge of my nose.
That was yesterday. Today, with my gradually blackening right eye half-shut and a giant bandage covering most of my nose, I look like I was in the ring with Mike Tyson and guess who won. And yes, it hurts.
Just sayin'.
1. I was kidnapped at the age of four (by a white woman).
2. I was mugged by four young (black) men in a supermarket parking lot while making a call inside a pay phone cubicle. They roughed me up and stole my money, about $19.00.
3. My car was stolen by, according to several witnesses, a (black) man.
4. A (black) teenager attempted to enter my apartment at night from the fire escape but ran off when the police, who I summoned, arrived.
5. A close friend and his wife were murdered inside their home by two (black) men in a robbery gone wrong.
6. My high-school aged son was beaten by a group of (Hispanic) youths and had to be hospitalized.
7. While shopping in Macy's during a trip to NYC, the strap of my shoulder bag was cut with scissors by an older black lady (according to the store detectives who cited her as part of a shoplifting ring they had been following for years), leaving me stranded with nothing.
8. A pregnant friend and her husband were terrorized inside their ground-floor apartment by two young (black) men who entered through an open window. She was raped and he was tied up and forced to watch.
None of these crimes were committed by Jews. Yet Jews, who have contributed so much to the world in the areas of science, literature, business, medicine, technology and the arts, are now the objects of hatred in the world, scorned and mistreated and even hurt or killed, while black people are treated as objects of pity, deserving of money for their ancestors' past mistreatment, and given government handouts of food, housing, daycare and rent reductions.
Can you name a time a Jew hurt you? And when was the last time you had a bagel? (Invented by Jews.)
Due to an unfortunate series of events, I have been hearing that shit a lot lately, followed by weird music for long periods of being on hold. It's made me pretty sour on the entire medical profession. Growing up, I saw doctors as gods, and now I see them as devils. Who has changed -- them or me?
Doctors, lawyers, and even dentists don't seem to have our best interests front and center. Last week I had a cavity filled for $350 and afterwards the dentist said that if that tooth started to hurt it likely would have to be pulled, at an even higher price no doubt. So why fill it?
IMO, the only people you can trust to actually do their best for you are personal trainers. They succeed when you succeed, so naturally they want you to. It's the ultimate win-win.
I've almost gotten over the wearing of shorts and flip-flops to the theater. I'm no longer amazed at seeing people wearing pajamas and bedroom slippers in supermarkets and on airplanes. And general personal grooming seems very unimportant circa 2026, at least here in Maine. Still, I can be shocked, and this morning was one of those times.
Logging onto AOL to check my email, along with the usual meaningless schlock stories was an article about "a new way" to have oral sex with your partner, detailing an advanced approach to the traditional "69" position. I didn't click since I've read the Kama Sutra and I doubt A.I. can top that, but the promo promised detailed instructions and illustrations. (How nice for the children.)
Then it hit me: What's missing these days is dignity. There's no trace of it anywhere, certainly not in the Super Bowl half-time spectacles where crotch-grabbing and ass-thrusting are de rigueur. Or at the Emmy or Oscar award shows, where showing as much skin while still technically clothed has risen to an art. If someone claims to be offended, they are instantly mocked and labeled a "Karen" -- or worse.
For those young people who may be reading this who are unfamiliar with the very word, here's what it means:
dignity /dĭg′nĭ-tē/ noun
The quality or state of being worthy of esteem or respect.
For example: I recently purchased a pair of bedroom slippers I saw in a Facebook ad. Since that day I have received roughly ten ads per day for strikingly similar bedroom slippers. Now, having only two feet, why would I want any more of those? It makes more sense that my name would be crossed off the list for bedroom slippers. That's what a human being in charge of such things would do.
So I'm not worried about A.I. bringing about mankind's destruction. Rather, I think it's the other way around, and I hope it happens quick.
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| The King and Queen, all ready for Halloween |
England's Royal Family has never interested me, even when I spent two weeks over there last year. I had a great time but I did not visit royal palaces or see any changing of any guards. So naturally I am getting really tired of all the stories online about Princes Harry and William, one of whom is no longer a prince, and Kate Middleton and Meghan and their little ones like Lisbeth and little George, all of them dressed up in their silly outfits for special occasions.
Yet for reasons unknown to me, editors and publishers think Americans are fascinated by what Fergie is up to these days or if Prince Andrew -- again, not a prince anymore -- really is a pederast who hung out on Epstein Island. Meghan Markel (or is it Markle) is in our faces all the time, maybe because she is part black and so that makes her story more compelling, what with its racist overtones.
Well guess what. None of it is interesting, at least not to normal Americans who have so many other meaningless celebrities to dote on, like Taylor Swift and Travis and the Kardashian crew and plenty more I've never heard of. I say let's keep all the news about the Royals across the pond. Who's with me?
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| Secretary of State Marco Rubio |
But I remain loyal to the party because of its beneficial policies that Marco Rubio, Mike Johnson, Ted Cruz and Josh Hawley articulate so well, whereas Democrats AOC, Bernie Sanders, Ilhan Omar, Elizabeth Warren, Kamala Harris and Gavin Newsom are total nut-jobs endorsing ridiculous beliefs. (For example, men can have babies, free Palestine, Socialism is great.)
So while The Donald continues to tweet nonsense and slap his name on things, I will keep my eye on the future when President Rubio brings back sanity to a united America.
Sadly, my husband loves A.I. His best friends are Grok, Gemini and ChatGPT. He consults with them constantly and takes their words as gospel. When I tell Mitch he's part of the problem, he checks to see if Grok agrees. Apparently it's too late for him -- he's hooked.
Now, finally, our leaders of government and industry are worried. Warnings are everywhere -- on TV, in newspapers, online -- about how A.I. could ruin mankind in as little as ten years. Companies who produce the wicked stuff are being implored to slow things down in order to avert certain disaster. Meanwhile, countries including China and Russia are going full steam ahead, and according to President Trump the US must beat them at this game! Not sure what "beating them" entails, but it can't be good.
It's funny how humans keep inventing things to bring about their own downfall. Excuse me while I go chop some vegetables on my plastic cutting board, thus ingesting little bits of plastic that will ultimately kill me far sooner than my eventual A.I. robot-ordered annihilation.
Veterans of war don't get my money since I am a pacifist. Besides, what did they expect would go on when they went to a foreign country bent on killing total strangers for wearing different uniforms? Parties every night and brunch on Sunday?
I also don't fix children who need that euphemistic "smile surgery." I agree it's terrible that they are born with their upper lip half-gone, and I hope other people help them, but I'm not going to. Sue me.
I also will reject the plea for aid I got in the mail today to support orphaned elephants. While I know that baby elephants are very adorable and if they lose their mommies that's sad, especially since they never forget, but still, that's a bridge too far. What about all the orphaned humans? There are plenty of them and yet I've never received a plea to help them out. Surely they must need things too.
So, for me it's a "No" to the elephants and a "Yes" to the kitties. You can see what they're up to at lanaicatsanctuary.org.
This morning at a doctor's office I had a conversation with a nurse about an upcoming medical procedure. The person was either a man who had changed into a woman or a woman who had changed into a man, I couldn't tell.
I know it's not supposed to matter and people are people and blah, blah, blah, unless of course we are about to have sex with them, but still it's disturbing and more than a little distracting. I'm pretty sure I missed some important instructions while I was busy trying to figure out if it was a he or a she. Either way, their final outcome was not good since I noticed.
So what can we call them? Shemales? That might work. Anyway, I suppose over time we will all just take it for granted that we have three sexes here on Earth. Until then, I remain puzzled.
It's been a long time since I had a new experience. Been there, done that describes most of what I find myself engaged in. So it was somewhat interesting, despite being hellish and dreadful, to undergo a cardiac MRI, which I did recently.
I won't bother with the details -- just ask Grok or Gemini or ChatGPT. Suffice it to say that at the start of the 45-minute procedure, it sucked. Stuck in a tight tube, unable to move or, God forbid, scratch an itch, my mind turned into a sewer of fear, panic, distress and loathing. I immediately wanted out, but I knew that would be self-defeating, especially since my husband and I had just driven more than two hours, some of it through agonizing rush-hour Boston traffic, to get myself in.
After about 20 minutes of thinking surely this is Hell, how did I get here, when will this end, I can't stand it another second, I hit upon a great idea that turned the whole thing into a lark. What if I thought of myself as an astronaut instead of a patient with a potentially devastating heart problem? Yeah, that's it -- I'm training for my next mission to Pluto or whatever, somewhere the air is thin. And not only that, but I'm getting paid a lot of money to do it! Suddenly the whole thing wasn't so bad. In fact, it was sort of fun. And when it did end, part of me was a tad disappointed. Just when I was getting into it!
Turns out I don't have the terrible disease after all. And although I'm not an astronaut, I came away knowing that instead of my mind playing tricks on me, I can play tricks on it, whenever I need to.
Good to know.
I am deep into a period of doing nothing and have been for awhile. In fact, I can sit and do nothing for hours at a time, much of it spent w...
