Time to Move On.
17/04/17 08:04
Another day, another rally by the Trump haters insisting that he release his taxes. It's just so laughable. One of these days Sean Spicer is going to step up to the podium in the West Wing press room and tell the first reporter who asks about the release of Trump's returns to just fuck off. Fuck off. The dems are so desperate to get traction on any issue that they trip all over themselves looking for the holy grail of issues that will bring the Trumpster down. Good luck with that is what I say. The Dems have taken a beating at the polls since and even before their Kenyan born and raised icon, Barack Hussein Obama, and his hand picked successor, Hillary Clinton, went down in flames when Donald J Trump won the election in 2016. Their stable of leading progressives now includes the likes of Liz "Hiawatha" Warren, Bernie "Depends" Sanders, and that old hag congresswoman from California, Maxine Waters. Good ole Maxie in her James Brown wig can't quite accept that her girl Hillary lost the election to the likes of Trump so calls every day for his impeachment and has devoted her remaining days in Congress to making sure that he is hauled in front of Congress and properly impeached. It's the closest thing to a white lynching as she and her black caucasians in Congress can hope for. Ain't going to happen, folks.
As the Donald continues his winning streak on the world stage cleaning up after 8 years of a feckless Obama administration, the dems can only watch in abject horror as they see their prospects for any wins in the near future diminish to the point of no return. How sweet it is! And this latest hoo-ha in North Korea is one for the books. If it's true what they say about our jamming their electronics causing the collapse of their missile coming off the launch pad then we're in for some serious fun times ahead. I'm reminded of those scenes in any one of the Tom and Jerry cartoons from the sixties where the gun is aimed, the barrel of the gun is inexplicably tied in a knot, and BAM, it explodes in the face of the character firing the weapon. Now, just add a nuclear warhead to that weapon, place it in downtown Pyongyang, and let the fireworks begin. Are we tired of winning yet? You might pose that question to the pot bellied little dictator with the funny haircut but finding him in the rubble might prove difficult. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Halla-Fucking-Lujah!
Not sure why but yesterday was, in retrospect, and bit of a chore. For the first time this year the heat was seriously oppressive and temps were pushing 90 on the thermometer in my car. It was just uncomfortable and it was one of those days you wanted to hang out in an air conditioned room until the heat wave passed. We still have winter covers over our air conditioning units for chrissakes so I will have to take care of that today. It's 67 degrees with a cool breeze blowing as I sit here at 8:31 in the morning so better times are ahead. Our mid afternoon Easter meal at Tuscan Kitchen yesterday was pretty good with just a couple of misfires that are hardly worthy mentioning. Nancy and I took her mother out for the afternoon and were it not for the road detours in and around Exeter the trip itself was also not notable. Nancy said something about the fact that it might have been better had we planned to meet her there but then again that wouldn't have been taking her out in the real sense of the word. So you pick her up, take her out for dinner and a trip down to the beach afterward to see her rental property, and then return her to her home. That's what you do (and that is what we did.)
I might mention that Mrs G seemed a little preoccupied with flowers she had ordered to be sent to her sister down in Maryland. I think it's Maryland anyway. She wanted someone in Maryland to send her a picture of the flowers that had been delivered. Something about the quality of flowers worrying perhaps that they were not up to snuff after making the long trip. That's my two cents any way. It wasn't clear to me either as to why Mrs G was asking Nancy to contact them with a request for the picture when she was certainly capable of sending her own e-mail but that's fine. They obliged by sending a picture later that day not of the flowers but of her aunt (Mr's G's sister) sitting down to Easter dinner. The flowers were nowhere in sight. That wasn't good enough. Mrs G responded to Nancy asking once again about the flowers. I'm thinking to myself, enough about the flowers already. Her aunt looked fit and comfortable in one of the few photos we've seen of her as of late and that by all accounts should have been reassuring knowing what we all know about her recent bout with ill health. Maybe there is a tendency to obsess about such things when you get on in years, trivial as they are, but no less important in the scheme of ones existence. That picture is probably not forthcoming if I had to guess so Mrs G will have to let sleeping dogs lie as it were. Easier said than done, me thinks.
Time for me to wrap this up but if I had more time I would certainly chime in on a story in the news about a business establishment putting a tampon dispenser in their men's room. It is ostensibly for those female patrons who identify as male and need access to gender appropriate supplies. Have we completely lost our fucking minds? Oh, and the picture of the boat above, more on that later.
As the Donald continues his winning streak on the world stage cleaning up after 8 years of a feckless Obama administration, the dems can only watch in abject horror as they see their prospects for any wins in the near future diminish to the point of no return. How sweet it is! And this latest hoo-ha in North Korea is one for the books. If it's true what they say about our jamming their electronics causing the collapse of their missile coming off the launch pad then we're in for some serious fun times ahead. I'm reminded of those scenes in any one of the Tom and Jerry cartoons from the sixties where the gun is aimed, the barrel of the gun is inexplicably tied in a knot, and BAM, it explodes in the face of the character firing the weapon. Now, just add a nuclear warhead to that weapon, place it in downtown Pyongyang, and let the fireworks begin. Are we tired of winning yet? You might pose that question to the pot bellied little dictator with the funny haircut but finding him in the rubble might prove difficult. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Halla-Fucking-Lujah!
Not sure why but yesterday was, in retrospect, and bit of a chore. For the first time this year the heat was seriously oppressive and temps were pushing 90 on the thermometer in my car. It was just uncomfortable and it was one of those days you wanted to hang out in an air conditioned room until the heat wave passed. We still have winter covers over our air conditioning units for chrissakes so I will have to take care of that today. It's 67 degrees with a cool breeze blowing as I sit here at 8:31 in the morning so better times are ahead. Our mid afternoon Easter meal at Tuscan Kitchen yesterday was pretty good with just a couple of misfires that are hardly worthy mentioning. Nancy and I took her mother out for the afternoon and were it not for the road detours in and around Exeter the trip itself was also not notable. Nancy said something about the fact that it might have been better had we planned to meet her there but then again that wouldn't have been taking her out in the real sense of the word. So you pick her up, take her out for dinner and a trip down to the beach afterward to see her rental property, and then return her to her home. That's what you do (and that is what we did.)
I might mention that Mrs G seemed a little preoccupied with flowers she had ordered to be sent to her sister down in Maryland. I think it's Maryland anyway. She wanted someone in Maryland to send her a picture of the flowers that had been delivered. Something about the quality of flowers worrying perhaps that they were not up to snuff after making the long trip. That's my two cents any way. It wasn't clear to me either as to why Mrs G was asking Nancy to contact them with a request for the picture when she was certainly capable of sending her own e-mail but that's fine. They obliged by sending a picture later that day not of the flowers but of her aunt (Mr's G's sister) sitting down to Easter dinner. The flowers were nowhere in sight. That wasn't good enough. Mrs G responded to Nancy asking once again about the flowers. I'm thinking to myself, enough about the flowers already. Her aunt looked fit and comfortable in one of the few photos we've seen of her as of late and that by all accounts should have been reassuring knowing what we all know about her recent bout with ill health. Maybe there is a tendency to obsess about such things when you get on in years, trivial as they are, but no less important in the scheme of ones existence. That picture is probably not forthcoming if I had to guess so Mrs G will have to let sleeping dogs lie as it were. Easier said than done, me thinks.
Time for me to wrap this up but if I had more time I would certainly chime in on a story in the news about a business establishment putting a tampon dispenser in their men's room. It is ostensibly for those female patrons who identify as male and need access to gender appropriate supplies. Have we completely lost our fucking minds? Oh, and the picture of the boat above, more on that later.