Another episode of my definitely very original Shower Thoughts series. If you’re new here, I consider being politically engaged a life-long obligation.
Either a skunk sprayed or 50 of my neighbors are smoking really bad weed in my backyard right now.
I think one of the most valuable lessons you can learn from a cat is that consent can be revoked at any time.
In a world where T**** and the GOP lie, cheat, and run their mouths all the time, a measured, competent Jack Smith is going to be awarded temporary hot unicorn status on the internet. Sometimes people need a hero. Ask Anthony Fauci.
I hope T**** doesn’t sleep a wink tonight and has anxiety diarrhea on a toilet that won’t flush.
I just finished reading the indictment document. Admitting the closest I got to law school was Valparaiso’s wait-list, I don’t see how any reasonable defendant does anything but put his hands out to be cuffed. Christ on a bike!
I want someone to ask Mitch McConnell if his judges were worth it. Keep a camera on him until he says yes, no, or dies.
I may never know the answers, but I have even more questions about all the politicians who visited Mar-a-Lago. Lindsey Graham and Kevin McCarthy really stick out in my mind.
Mike Pence is what AI thinks a human is.
My unpopular opinion is let Judge Cannon show the world her ass again. Americans could use another lesson in identifying corrupt judges.
If you can’t celebrate the federal indictment yet, I get it. But here’s my perspective: It’s more enjoyable to be happy that there are people (in high places!) that care about what’s right and good and less important that people get what they deserve.
To be clear. Bad people getting what they deserve is still worth celebrating! It’s just a little lower on my list.
Instead of interviewing “financially challenged” cishet white dudes and “undecided” voters at diners, I want to hear from prison abolitionists who’ve made a moral exception for T**** and his GOP this election cycle.
Another episode of my definitely very original Shower Thoughts series.
People who always thought of me in terms of what I could do for them sure did crap all the bricks when I thought of them in terms of what they did to me.
The brain tumor affects my balance and coordination, not my capacity for rational thought.
It’s exhausting to care how much of what other people have and judge whether or not they deserve it. It’s unpaid emotional labor. I think I’ll not do it.
That headline’s not going to get him what he wants, but I understand how self-delusion leads to shock.
The headline I was thinking about:
Singing: My my my my armor comes from you.
The more I think I know, the less I learn. Which probably explains why I find some people very tedious and mansplaining makes my ears quit working.
Another episode of my definitely very original Shower Thoughts series.
Life is full of nuance. All squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares.
When I’m tired and everything is spinning, I really hate this shower.
You’re sick when you’re too tired to cook. You’re really sick when you’re too tired to eat.
Fucking monkey pox can get bent. Someone else can get a vaccine. As far as I’m concerned, everyone’s contaminated. Asking my immune system to do one more thing right now is like asking an elementary school teacher if she’s got a minute.
I need to crowdsource food ideas. I’m sick of oatmeal, protein shakes, and Lunchables.
I miss feeling comfortable. Eight years feels like a long time to be in unrelenting pain.
I’m pretty sure there was a time in my life when clothes didn’t hurt.
If Alex Jones has $45 million, it’s because people bought his literal and figurative bullshit. If the consequences of telling the truth are being poor…
I was going somewhere with this.
Probably related: I’m not convinced the long arc of the moral universe even bends toward justice. Parallel lines, more like.
Oh, yeah. Roger Stone was begging for money on behalf of Alex Jones and called him a “good Christian” man.
So much for sheep’s clothing. They’re coming at the godbots stark white and buck naked with tattoos of Richard Nixon on their backs.
At least that relentless eye blinker, Joel Osteen, goes to church.
I need to think about something happier and take some weed.
