Tuesday, July 23, 2019

PSST! TRUMP IS A BABY-EATING COKE FIEND. 
PASS IT ON!

This is old news by now, long since forgotten as everyone is surely discussing (insert the latest thing Hair Furor said/did/fucked in the past hour), but still I feel the need to comment. 

It's the video clip of Trump and Epstein partying at Mar-a-Slag-Ho in 1992. It was quite illuminating. 



What did we learn? Well....

  • We learned that even as a "young" man, Jeffrey Epstein had a face like a dropped pie. Were we surprised by this information? Nah, not really. But still, the more you know.  
  • Trump bites his lip and claps his hands on the downbeat when he dances. Did we know that when Dumpcake busts a move, he looks like '80s Eddie Murphy doing an impression of a doofy white guy? No, but again, not all that surprising.
  • We learned--well, remembered--that Rhythm is a Dancer was a huge hit during my senior year of high school. At the time my friend Liz really loved these early '90s dance club anthems, (see also "I Got the Power," "Gonna Make You Sweat," etc.) but they just left me cold. I tend to favor bands that play actual instruments. That said, I must admit now that "Rhythm" doesn't sound all that bad. In fact, I kinda dig it. Maybe it's because my ears have since been exposed to Katy Perry and other varieties of soulless autotuned shite that makes this long-lost track sound downright melodious, but still. 
  • And the thing that actually did surprise me? Donald Trump looks high as fuck. I'm not just being snarky, people. Seriously. The coke eyes. 

I know Dumpty's team has done a good job of selling the narrative that he's a booze-hating teetotaler. And I can totally buy that he doesn't drink. But I fully believe that he did and probably still does other stuff, and this video--along with the pervasive rumors of his fondness for Adderall--is proof enough for me. 

Seriously, go back and watch the clip of Trump and Epstein again. You can't unsee it. 

Well, this certainly has been educational! Remember kids, if you ain't learning, you ain't living. 
And that's....

Indeed it is.
Trump is a cokehead. Say it again, and spread it far and wide. TRUMP IS A GREASY COKEHEAD. Does anyone care? No. Would this information change anything at all? No. Because we're all numb now, and like Dan Aykroyd in Ghostbusters, we have chosen the form of our destroyer.

Sorry Venkman, I'm terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.

At this point, Trump could saunter into a migrant camp, rip a newborn infant from its mother and devour it whole in front of live television cameras, then spit out the umbilical cord and dry hump an American flag.

And in the ensuing (admittedly meager) outcry:

Trump's inbred fanbase would shrug and say, "Hey, if Juanita don't want Trump to eat her baby, she shoulda stayed in Mexico. MAGA!"

Mike Pence would literally turn his back on the whole scene and say, "Well, this is tough stuff. And none of it is our fault anyway. Blame those stinky Democrats in Congress." Then he'd tell a female journalist, "Sorry young lady, I'm not allowed to converse with single gals when Mother's not around. By the way, I'm 110% heterosexual. Make sure you print that. No homo!"

Melania would don another fugly jacket, this one emblazoned with NOW I REALLY DON'T FUCKING CARE, BITCHES! and then disappear for five months to have another operation on her "kidneys."

One of the interchangeable plasticized Fox News bimbos would tweet: "Oh ho ho, since when does the left care about babies? They're perfectly fine with the ones murdered every day by ABORTION!"

And we'd wake up the next day and Trump would be on Twitter: "Me and Kanye are helicoptering into Sweden to free my homie A$AP Rocky. Then I'll free Tupac. See black people, I'm down with you! Peace off!" When that isn't enough to deflect the public's attention away from his migrant baby eating, he'll send more troops to Iran.

And then we'll all die.



Thursday, July 18, 2019

UPDATES AND MORE

I'm back! Actually, I never went anywhere. Well, except Texas. Yep, John and I moved to Texas and bought a house in the Dallas suburbs.

For those playing along at home, since starting this blog in 2003 I've lived:


  • 2003 - 2012 St. Paul/Minneapolis
  • 2012 - 2013 Baton Rouge, LA
  • 2013 - 2016 Reno, NV
  • 2016 - 2016 (four months) Salt Lake City/Bountiful, UT*
  • 2016 - 2019 Reno, NV again
  • 2019 - McKinney, TX
* We moved to Utah when John got a job in SLC, but the company went bust (as video game companies tend to do) and John's old company in Reno lured him back. In retrospect, I'm glad we moved back to Reno, because it's beautiful there and we had good times and met some great people. 

So now we're in McKinney. I'm glad to live in Texas, which is a sentence I never thought I'd write, but even more happy with our new house.

A HOUSE, Y'ALL ! WITH A YARD AND EVERYTHING!


No, that's not a giant Texas bug on John's shoulder. I blacked out our house number because I'm not posting our address on the internets for all and sundry. Besides, if you know me, 
you already have my address (or you will shortly). 


I love my backyard.

Anyhoo, jeez Louise, do I have more to post! And I will get around to it. By the way, in case you were wondering, I have no desire to ever abandon this blog. It might get updated sporadically, but it will still be updated. My blog is my last online refuge. And over the years I've seen so many blogs disappear, blogs that I LOVED--my friend Marcus's blog for one, as well N is for Neville (long gone), and the blog of an online friend (who was also the editor of my favorite zine in the '90s) a blog that had been around forever that she recently took down (much to my chagrin) because she writes serious articles for the internet now, and she deemed some of her older blog posts to be "problematic" as the kids say, and didn't want them dug up by any nosy parkers. I understand her reasoning, but damn, that blog made me laugh til I was physically sick and I miss it dearly. So for the smattering of people out who follow my blog--but mostly for myself--I'm never ending this one, dammit. Old school blogs like mine are an endangered species, and I feel a great need to keep it going despite the odds. SO THERE.


STILL HERE, BITCHES!