Alternate Universe

Doctors In GOP Congress OK Gun Sales To Mentally Impaired

By LeftOfCenter

I have bipolar disorder. I ran my second husband over with a VW Beetle. Grace of God did not kill or maim him. I have written 33 articles about guns, gun death and wounding and gun culture.

I choose not to own a gun. Had a discussion about this with my Shrink because of an Obama initiative. Wrote about it. What is this? Where am I? Is this fuck with everything Obama month? We did not just have Dylan Roof? I am confused.

I have never been convicted of a crime. I am a voting homeowner. I do not have delusions. WTF. I am creeped out. Social Security as the Gestapo? Talk me down.

And I am sort of hiding and learning twitter. Wearing my red dress. I have a lot to cope with. Trumpus is freaking me out. Fucker is aiming right at me. Old and glad for Social Security and Medicare. And I have glaucoma and macular degeneration but my glasses will make my sight normal. Whoopee. You turn 70 and things start to fall off. You be cheerful. I will save France.

Netherlands Yanks Trump's Chain. Laughing My Ass Off.

You laughing at our pain, you crumby Stroopwafels eaters. However, you have given Trumpus what we in America call 'the bird." And done it in the most charming way. So you are more than forgiven. You are a welcome addition to The Resistance.

Sign of the Month - January 2017

You choose the one you like the best. I like them all.

FEMENS - Grab patriarchy by the balls!

I love FEMEN. What courage. 

Google Adsense quit me because they consider my writing about FEMEN pornography. Ultimately the kiss-off set me free. I became more so.

FEMEN makes the most cogent statement of all. Enjoy. These women get the Balls of Steel Award.

SOLACE

If you have come here for solace, boogie now. I got no Happy New Year. 

I have been grieving. I am past bargaining and into depression. Acceptance? Ask me after I have had some coffee.

I had champagne and triple cream brie on New Year's Eve. Pancakes with maple syrup and sausages New Year's Day. I am fucking old, so it takes awhile for my liver and brain and heart to get back to normal after all this fucking excitement. And there is no fucking Sun and I am wearing a blanket while I type.

Those who have been reading Real Philadelphia need to know that Ms. Norma and the kidniks are back to honeypots again. I am going to have to finish that fucking story. Walter brought me his extra cookies and a smile.

I am living large, I guess. For now. And watching the Water Protectors. Their fate - our fate. And the first glorious lines of an otherwise dreadful poem keep ringing in my mind:

The Destruction of Sennacherib
BY LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; 

Soon my Seasonal Affective Disorder will pass. I will be back to my usual trashmouth self. So it goes. Quoting Vonnegut there.

Do I have to be so political all the time even on holidays? Yes. Yes I do.