Happy 4th of July, to my American readers.

Until this is not an ironic holiday for entitled white people, I give you this:

Full article here:

https://www.comicsands.com/drivers-police-tiktok-black-woman-2653631851.html

This will be me, if I get the chance.

We are all free, or we are none of us free. Enjoy your cookout.

I Would Walk 804.672 Kilometers, and I Would Walk 804.672 Kilometers More

Today's post is brought to you by two of my best friends-I've-never-met, Bill the Butcher and Allie Cat, who have no clue that they both gave me the same idea. Great minds, etc.

Sidebar: 

The phrase "Great minds think alike" - shortened above with the "etc." to show that I'm one of the Internet cool kids - is itself abbreviated from its original form, which is "Great minds think alike, though fools seldom differ." That happens to be a sentiment I love - "Agree with me, but not too much, because that's highly suspect and makes you seem weird and creepy." The longer saying is great relationship advice, the more common shorter version is how pundits on all points of the political spectrum manage to convince themselves they're relevant even though they're actually emotionally stunted, attention-starved bores.

See also: "Money is the root of all evil," which it's totally not and I'll prove it to you as soon as I have some.

Anyway, back to our post. Last week in this space I wrote about the mystery of the four-ounce Camembert cheese. To which Bill the Butcher - who claims to live in some place called "India," if you can believe that - commented "What is an 'ounce' in human-comprehensible units?"

How rude. Everyone knows that an ounce is the amount of weed that a cop will "confiscate as evidence" instead of just pouring it out on the ground in front of you. Or so I've heard. 

But it was 14.17 grams of oregano for my mom,
I swear, officer.

So then I saw a post from Allie Cat on Facebook, talking about how we Americans look stupid because we stubbornly refuse to adopt the metric system. STUPID? I take umbrage with that. When it comes to our decades-long resistance to adopting the measuring standards of the entire rest of the world, Americans may look willfully ignorant, uneducated, unenlightened, hidebound, parochial, narrow-minded, and obtuse. But we are not stupid.

Some of us are stupid for myriad other reasons.

And by the way, we don't completely eschew the use of the metric system. For instance, you can buy weed in either grams or ounces. In fact, the average stoner is fairly expert in converting metric to imperial measurements. Weed is magical that way. And America has been buying its cocaine and heroin in grams and kilos since before disco was a thing, which is a long time, children. 

The point is, if it's something important, of course Americans use the metric system.

But Allie and Bill did get me thinking of my own history with learning the metric system.  I was brought up in the Shiny Seventies, which means I was subjected to the U.S. government's sustained and hilarious attempts to indoctrinate American children into adopting the vernacular of meters, grams, and Celsiuseses. We were going to be the vanguard, the ones who would help the citizens before us and the citizens yet to come to shed the archaic shackles of acres and bushels and hogsheads and barleycorns. We would eat 30-centimeter hot dogs and wash them down with 1.18-liter malt liquors. For the good of America.

Looking back, it was one of the earliest examples of Baby Boomers expecting Gen X to do the heavy lifting for the rest of society. And in true Gen X fashion, our collective response was "lol wut."

If our parents had just gotten us one of these bikes
for Christmas, the world might be very different today.

But the government tried, it really did. It tried to be hip and with-it and speak to us kids in the language we best understood. Which was cartoons. Hey, they weren't wrong. The government wisely chose to emulate the framework of "Schoolhouse Rock," aka the only reason I can recite the Preamble to the Constitution and multiply by eight in my head.

We got off on our new math tricks,
and we liked it.

So throughout the 70s, my peers and I were shown various short animated films about the metric system. But instead of being broadcast on network television, like "Schoolhouse Rock," we watched these during school hours, on the giant TV rolled out on the magic cart. And instead of enjoying them over a bowl of Froot Loops on a Saturday morning, we were a captive audience that didn't get to go to recess until we had absorbed government-approved ditties about how the U.S. was going to lead the world by doing what the rest of it was already doing. So the metric system had a distinct disadvantage over, say, "Conjunction Junction," passive-learning-wise.

I found the two metric system videos I remember best on YouTube for your enjoyment. Now, I'm not gonna lie: On playing these clips, I found I was able to sing along with them, word for word, after 40+ years. To this day, the only reason I have any clue how long a meter is or what 25 degrees Celsius feels like is because these little jingles play in my head when I need to retrieve that knowledge. So on that level, they were quite successful.

On the other hand, after 40+ years the sum total of my knowledge of the metric system is that a gram is "the weight of a single raisin." And in the real world, the ability to quickly convert ounces to raisins is not as useful as you might imagine.

So instead of a raising a generation of metric-fluent adults, America created a generation of chronic  underachievers who can win at bar trivia as long as a significant portion of the questions involve the metric weight of dried fruit or the history of white Americans, set to music.

And that's why America still doesn't use the metric system. 

Here are the clips, in case you want to know what my inner soundtrack sounds like. You can thank Allie Cat and Bill the Butcher for the earworms.

Currents

New contest.

Post an image/screenshot that most perfectly sums up Earth 2018.

My privileged white American viewpoint is here:

I'd love know yours. Screenshots, hyperlinks, or simply heartfelt descriptions are welcome.

Let's try really hard to outdo one another, OK?

Democracy Rocks

Yesterday Precocious Daughter and I voted in the Texas Democratic primary.

Her first time voting.

She was way excited, and frankly, so was I.

It was early voting, which was great, because although every voting machine was in use when we got to the polling place, there was no line. The lady who checked PDaughter's ID obviously noticed her birthdate and asked if it was her first time to vote. When PDaughter answered in the affirmative, all the poll workers turned toward her and applauded. That was nice.

Outside the local library, which was our early-voting location, we got to meet the candidate for state representative for whom we planned to vote. It turned out we have a mutual friend in a district judge who is up for re-election, so we had a very nice chat. We also got to meet our local precinct chairman, a very nice man who welcomed us and thanked us for voting.

My wonderful, smart, nerdy child was awestruck by the entire experience. She was so proud to have voted. And I was so proud to see how proud she was.

Just pride all over the damn place.

his morning I mentioned to a co-worker that PDaughter had voted for the first time (he also has a daughter who just turned 18). And he confessed to me - literally in a whisper - that he has never voted in his entire life.

This man is in his late 40s. He has multiple degrees and is actually working toward another one right now. And he's never once voted in a single election at any level.

I am Joey at this moment.

Let me tell you a little secret. When I was married, my ex and I voted in the major elections...you know, President, statewide elections, midterms, that sort of thing. But I rarely voted in primaries, and I never voted in local elections. Because it wasn't a priority for him, and so it wasn't a priority for me.

This is what can happen when you allow yourself to be absorbed by your spouse.

Since I've been single, I've voted in every election. I've made myself research candidates for even the most minor of elected offices. Dammit, they're not minor until you realize that no one cares about them. I've come to realize that my voice may be small, but it's freaking powerful if I make the effort to speak up.

Making the effort is the best.

Never stop making an effort, Drunkards.

So I vote. And I make sure PDaughter knows I've voted, whenever and wherever it occurs.

And that's why my remarkable child and I just voted in the Texas Democratic primary together.

For the record: Beto O'Rourke for U.S. Senator. Because he's the best.

In addition to being smart, compassionate,
and qualified, he's way easier on the eyes
than Ted Cruz.

Voting is freedom. Voting is independence. Voting is being fully American.

Honestly, not voting is a major turn-off for me. Voting is sexy af.

I've raised a voter. That makes me happy.

Please vote, you guys. It's our shot at being part of history.

Why would you want to pass on that shot?

Casa Baudelaire votes Democrat. But you vote you.

Voting rocks.

Give It Up for Sammy P

Today is the 210th birthday of great American dudebro Salmon P. Chase. Or would be, had he not stroked out in 1873 at age 65.

Who names their child Salmon? Especially when your last name makes you sound like some kind of Olympic event for bears?

Even an actual salmon wouldn't name a kid Salmon.
That would be like me being named
Functional Alcoholic.

Anyway, you might not know as much about Salmon P. Chase as you really need to survive and thrive in this crazy old world. And that's a shame, because someday you might be kidnapped and held hostage by a fanatical "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" contestant and your only path to freedom is to be his Plus-One and know the answer to the question "Which major US bank was originally named in honor of the 25th Secretary of the Treasury?" And if you can't correctly answer "JPMorgan Chase," you'll be beaten with an XBox controller dipped in pure capsaicin and/or forced to watch the Cousin Oliver episodes of "The Brady Bunch" in perpetuity until your eyes bleed Tabasco sauce.

I don't want that to happen to you. I love you guys.

So, to celebrate the life of an American hero and potentially save your bacon in the process, here are 10 Fun Facts About Salmon P. Chase.

1. The P stands for Portland. He wasn't born in Portland, his mother's maiden name wasn't Portland, and as far as I know he wasn't a fan of "Portlandia." On the other hand, his first name was freaking Salmon, so pairing that with Portland and the surname Chase creates one of the greatest non sequitur names in American history. So there's that.

2. He served as the sixth Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court and was nominated to that position by none other than Abe "the Babe" Lincoln.

I have no idea if anyone actually
called Abraham Lincoln "Babe."
But I would have if I'd been there.

3. His face appeared on the very first $1 bills in 1862. Guess who designed the bill? None other than the Treasury Secretary himself. Basically, he had political aspirations throughout his entire career and put his own face on the dollar as a means of free self-promotion. Trolling level: Salmon-tastic.

4. As Chief Justice, SPC presided over the trial of President Andrew Johnson, who was impeached in 1868. Johnson was acquitted by one vote, but that's not Salmon's fault. He and William Rehnquist remain (for now) the only two judges to preside over the impeachment of an American president.

5. Salmon P. Chase also appeared on the $10,000 bill, the largest denomination ever widely circulated by the U.S. Treasury. In 1946 the bill ceased production, and in 1969 the government began actively withdrawing it (and other big-money bills) from circulation. There are only a few hundred believed to still be at large. Check your wallet - you never know if the clerk at 7-Eleven gave you one by mistake. Not really. But maybe.

6. My boy Salmon was an anti-slavery activist. He opposed both the Compromise of 1850 and the Kansas-Nebraska Act. He also (unsuccessfully) argued in court that any slave who escaped to a non-slave state was no longer bound to his servitude under the laws of his former state. His objections to slavery were rooted in Constitutional principles more than in a sense of moral justice. But still.

7. Mary Todd Lincoln was not a fan of the Chase family and refused to attend the wedding of Salmon's daughter Kate. Personally, I think being blackballed by Mary Todd Lincoln is kind of badass.

8. If you cover half of Sam's face while looking at his portrait, it seems very plausible that he had at least two demons living inside him doing battle for his eternal soul. Try it!

Use this Matthew Brady photograph.
Also, his less-possessed side looks
a lot like the late Peter Boyle.

9. Chase was affiliated with five different political parties during his career, including one that he and Martin Van Buren basically created themselves. The Free Soil Party was considered a "spoiler" party that effectively led to the election of Zachary Taylor, one of America' least distinguished leaders. You go, Free Soil Party.

10.  Depending on where you look it up, Salmon P. Chase had two, three, or more children. The only one anybody seems to know anything about is Kate (the one snubbed by Mary Todd Lincoln), who apparently was quite a social-climbing spitfire and was delighted when her father gave up on marriage after being widowed three times. Had Daddy Chase ever succeeded in being elected President (he failed to be nominated twice), Kate would have been de facto First Lady, which seemed to sit well with both of them. Hmmm.

There you go. If you win a bar bet because of this post, raise a glass in my honor. Be sure to follow it with a...Salmon P. Chase-r.

Please don't throw fish at me. That's rude.

Land of the Armed, Home of the Drunk

There's a Constitutional amendment that gives Americans the right to own guns.

There's also a Constitutional amendment that gives Americans the right to drink.

Let me say from the outset that two rights
can most definitely make a wrong.

Few question either right, although some strongly disapprove of one, the other, or both. But everyone gets to choose to exercise or abstain from their right to bear arms or knock back a cold one. That's how America rolls.

Yet despite the Constitutional mandate, the right to get your drink on is far from unrestricted. You have to be the right age. You have to be in the right place. And you definitely have to refrain from certain behaviors while under the influence.

Like driving. Or harassing/assaulting others. Or serving on jury duty.

And don't even think about combining these two Constitutional rights. IT'S A VERY BAD IDEA.

Please refer to my earlier caption.

Literally no one balks at the idea that drivers should be licensed, insured, properly trained, and subject to extensive regulation of their behavior behind the wheel.

But merely float the idea that perhaps gun ownership should incorporate similar public safeguards, and certain supporters of the Second Amendment go apeshit.

Shown here: Literal gorilla poop.

I personally don't get this. I mean, if I drink 12 shots of vodka and subsequently threaten a similarly drunken stranger with physical violence, I totally expect to be held accountable for my behavior. That's how law and order works.

According to the 57 shows bearing that name.

But if one person with a gun encounters another person with a gun, I'm supposed to have faith that one boasts moral superiority because they're a "good guy" and also because somehow their aim is automatically perfect because they believe they're John Wayne?

Yeah. So. I'm as wary of gun owners with a marksman complex as I am with drunks who insist they can "handle it."

I don't want to take away any American's rights.

I simply want to be confident that my personal right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness can't be destroyed in a split second.

I promise not to piss and moan that I can't down a handle of Smirnoff while driving down the freeway if 2A folks promise not to pretend that only pure-hearted, law-abiding citizens are able to obtain/use assault rifles.

Hi! The ability to shoot an assault rifle WAY outweighs
the lives of your loved ones! Signed, the NRA.

Right here, right now, gun people:

Tell me why the Second Amendment is inviolable to the rule of law but the Twenty-First Amendment can be abridged all to hell and gone.

Tell me why you pay a tiny group of people to advance the interests of gun ownership over all other American rights.

Tell me why you stubbornly believe that Americans have a right to self-defense, while simultaneously pushing the false narrative that a "good guy with a gun" is somehow the answer to preventing/thwarting crime in any and all settings, regardless of the danger posed to people by an untrained private citizen attempting to affect justice via a personal weapon.

Tell me why killing innocent people because I'm drunk driving is a terrible offense, but killing innocent people with a gun is somehow the price of freedom.

I'm honest to God listening.

I await your intelligent, reasoned responses.

For as long as it takes.

Star-Spangled Jackcrap

Just a thought tonight, Drunkards.

According to the United States Flag Code

...which was passed in June 1924 and codified into law in 1942...

there are a crap-ton of things you musn't do with/to/by the flag of the United States of America.

For instance, the flag should never be displayed horizontally or on the ground.

It should never be used as apparel.

It should never have any word or design placed on it.

It should never be used as part of an athletic uniform.

Can I get a flag tattoo and be a totally bitchin' 'Murican patriot?

Not so much.

In other words, the American flag is a piece of cloth meant to be saluted as a symbol of our freedom. It's not meant to be venerated or worshiped, and surely not to be used as a fashion accessory or an ostentatious display of one's superior patriotism.

Flown on a pole, or worn on a uniform, it is an object fitting of respect by American citizens.

As a t-shirt design or piece of body art, it is the secular equivalent of sacrilege.

Raise the flag in the morning, lower it in the evening, and I will respect this symbol of my uniquely American heritage.

\

Treat it like a Coke logo or a McDonald's ad...and, yeah, screw your fake love of country.

I respect my flag.

I don't worship it.

Because worship is for sheep and suckers. God (as I understand it) be with me, I support knowledge.

Sweet Jeebus, forgive me.

I'd hate to be misunderstood on such a straightforward subject.

Especially in satin shorts

What I Would Do with $759 Million

So yeah, one middle-aged lady in Massachusetts hit the Powerball jackpot for $759,000,000.00

Plus complimentary chips and salsa, and I really don't know
why the Powerball folks don't advertise that perk more.

Of course, she won't actually get that amount.

She's taking the lump-sum option, which comes to about $480 million.

After subtracting 40% for taxes (assuming she doesn't immediately set up some sweeeet tax shelters, which I sincerely hope she does), she ends up with "only" $288 million.

Or more than 100x what I can reasonably hope to earn in my lifetime unless I find some way to go viral, and soon.

Or unless I can successfully sue this little minx
for stealing the catchphrase that I totally coined in...
oh, let's say 2007.

Somehow, I think I could survive on $288 million for the next 40 years or so.

I'd need to carefully consider how I'd spend that much money, though. I mean, that's only about 10,000 Texas-in-August electric bills away from abject poverty. Don't want that.

So how exactly would I spend $288 million if it were to drop in my lap in a big, germ-riddled pile of dollar bills?

Let's see...

1. I would give my sister two million dollars. Because no one deserves financial independence more than she does. She's spent the last 10 years as a single mom raising four incredible kids into adults, always struggling but never complaining. I'd give her way more if she wanted it, but my opening offer would be $2 million. Balance: $286,000,000.00

2. I would give my alma mater an endowment of $100,000,000. That's name-a-building-after-me territory, right? That would be cool. But here's the thing: Because my alma mater is known primarily for its science and engineering programs, my endowment would be strictly to fund scholarships in majors such as liberal arts, communications, and education. I was taught by some amazing, internationally respected professors in humanities when I was there. Yet I was literally the only Arts & Humanities major in my graduating class. I'd like to give my university and the students who go there the opportunity for a world-class education in non-technical fields. Balance: $186,000,000.

3.I would buy a large, private lot in a mostly-developed suburb and build the house of our dreams. By "our," of course I mean Drummer Boy and me. With Precocious Daughter about to start her senior year of high school, DB and I are finally within shouting distance of living together and beginning the rest of our lives together. And while I am a city girl at heart, and would adore buying a townhouse or high-rise apartment in the heart of Dallas or New York or Miami, my gut tells me that what I really want is privacy, and freedom, and the ability to have a home that is loud and funky and filled with pets. So I think I'd choose a large piece of land in or near a big city, and I'd custom-build a house that is perfect for us. Somewhere DB can set up all his drum kits and pound them to his heart's content. Somewhere I can have dogs and cats and tortoises and monitor lizards without worrying they'll be a nuisance. Somewhere I can let friends and relatives crash without cramping my style. Somewhere I can pay people to clean and maintain, because I'm a freaking multi-millionaire. Yeah. Let's say $5 million for that. Balance: $180,000,000 (including a million bucks for the unlimited decorating budget I've always dreamed about.)

4. I want cars. Like, I want a fully-restored 1968 VW Beetle. I want a vintage BMW 325i. I want a cute little Mini to zip around in and a freaking practical Subaru crossover to carry shit home from IKEA. I want DB to have whatever he wants...even if it's a motorcycle, which scares me to death. Let's say $500,000 in costs and insurance. Balance: $179,500,000.

5. Lest I forget...I need some kind of fund, investment, annuity to ensure me a yearly income. I don't know the details...that's what financial advisors are for. Thinking I'll need to invest $20 million to achieve a decent annual income. Balance: $159,500,000.

6. Um...charity. Let's say $100,000,000. For Planned Parenthood. For UNICEF. For Heifer International. For AMFAR. For whatever. Just one hundred million dollars for those who don't have one hundred million dollars. Balance: $59,500,000.

7. A scholarship fund for PDaughter's school district. So many good kids who don't necessarily belong to the upper middle class/white majority. Here's $50 million to help some of those kids who might be first-time graduates. You guys rock. Balance: $9,500,000.

8. Slush fund: How freaking cool would it be to have a bank account purely for farting around and spending money on things you thought were cool - from autographed celebrity bullshit to dropping $100 bills into the boots of firemen who are collecting for charity? A million for that, all day long. Balance: $8,500,00,00.

9. And the rest?  Hell, I'd give that to any political party that could guarantee the United States of America would never again elect a racist, fascist, elitist, unqualified nobody to be our President.

Or I'd spend it on booze and eBay finds.

Whatever.

How about you?

This Is Not Me (Not Even Close)

This is a not a normal Saturday afternoon post.

But this is not a normal Saturday.

You may have heard that the University of Virginia in Charlottesville has been beseiged by a large number of alt-right activists...

Sorry, backing up. Can't say that with a straight face.

UVA has been invaded by fucking white supremacists who claim they are being threatened by  non-white, non-male, non-Christian people aka most of the freaking planet.

They brought their own nahtzee helmets.
How cute is that?

Apparently the definition of "threatened" is now "we thought democracy meant we were in charge but now it means we're equal to people who don't look or worship like us and we just figured out that sucks for us."

And so these butthurt white Christian males have chosen to express their outrage that other lives actually do matter. By burning torches and rallying around a statue of Thomas Jefferson, because why not it's not like Daveed Diggs, a POC, slayed the role of TJ in Hamilton, proving that skin color doesn't define greatness.

FUCK YOU GUYS.

Look. My dad is a white American male. My brother is a white American male. I have many co-workers who are white American males.

I don't agree with their views 100%. But I love them, and I respect them, because I know they're all good people. And good people can disagree.

But if any of them - ANY, including my own family - were to light a torch and chant slogans about being superior to lesser beings aka anyone who doesn't look and think exactly like them, they would be dead to me.

DEAD.

I am a white middle-class suburban mom. Aside from the obvious defect of my gender, I'm a member of just about the most privileged class in American society. Not considering the super-wealthy, who in my mind only exist to demonstrate the evils that money can do to putatively normal people.

I love good people. Whether they be white, black, Hispanic, Muslim, gay, religious, or whatever.

Also, I despise bad people, whether they be white, black, Hispanic, Muslim, gay, religious, or whatever.

Because "good" and "bad" transcend random accidents of birth.

But fuck these people who can't deal with the world not being controlled by white professed-Christian males.

How dare you claim to be Americans in an America populated by immigrants, refugees, marginalized groups, and outcasts?

This country belongs to those who love it.

And doesn't give a damn about the pigmentation, religious affiliation, or political orientation of anyone who pledges their allegiance to our flag.

Take your torches and your slogans and shove them up your asses, you pseudo-American hatemongers.

Babies.

Please love or hate me. Either response is totally welcome.

Happy INDEPENDENCE Day

On July 4th, 1976, the United States of America celebrated its Bicentennial - the 200th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

God Bless "Schoolhouse Rock."

It would be more than five years before General Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown, setting the stage for our actual birth as an independent nation. But July 4th, 1776 is the date we Yanks celebrate each year to commemorate our formal FU to England.

We're super-good friends now, btw.

Obama never held hands with David Cameron.

Just saying.

I have such vivid memories of the Bicentennial, Drunkards. I was eight years old. Independence Day in my childhood was always a day of cookouts, watermelon, sparklers, and fireworks. But in 1976, love of America permeated the very atmosphere. Even at the level of understanding of a child, messages of patriotism, freedom, and pride in our country were everywhere.

In my ancestral home of South Milwaukee, Wisconsin, people and local businesses adopted city fire hydrants and repainted them in a Bicentennial theme. All over town, hydrants were transformed into American flags, Liberty Bells, and portraits of Uncle Sam. Those paint jobs remained for years.

This one isn't from So. Milwaukee, but is representative
of the Spirit of '76, which was everywhere.

The Bicentennial instilled in me a lifelong sense of love and devotion toward my country. Which, frankly, was the goal, following years of disastrous involvement in Vietnam. I comprehended almost nothing of Vietnam when I was eight. But I understood the strong and visceral desire of my country to celebrate and validate itself.

That was all right with me.

And today, in 2017, I'm still all right with love of country.

But I'm just a wee bit more informed about political reality today than I was in 1976.

On this Independence Day, we have a President who speaks in 140-character monosyllables to articulate complicated and nuanced policy positions.

On this Independence Day, the current administration has eroded relations with all of our historical allies, who have publicly stated that the USA cannot be considered the driver of western-hemisphere policy any longer.

On this Independence Day, the President of the United States has repeatedly maintained that he represents the interests of those who voted for him and disdains all others.

On this Independence Day, the only campaign promises the POTUS has fulfilled are those that roll back regulations that benefit the many in order to benefit the few.

I still love the USA.

But I don't support what the party in power is doing to my country.

The fallout from North Korea's ICBM launch today, and Trump's meting with Russian leader Putin on Friday, will go a long way toward shaping my opinion of the current administration. 

I will never stop loving my country.

I will never stop protesting forces that threaten its strength and sovereignty.

God (or Whomever) Bless America.

James Comey's Best Quotes, Illustrated by Grumpy Cat

I thought former FBI Director James Comey's sworn testimony before the Senate Intelligence Committee today was totally badass. I also think Grumpy Cat is totally badass. So I re-imagined quotes from the former if said by the latter. 

James "Tardar" Comey, I watched your hearing today. It was awful.

Jk, it was amazing.

Evidence is good. Hearsay is bad. Go away.

This is my "confused and concerned" face.

If you try to pet me, I will gnaw on your hand forever. #NoFuzz

See this? This is my "hoist your own damn petard" face.

Tasty, tasty seagulls.

But not for long. LOOK AT THIS FACE.

I blinked slowly, conveying a silent but contemptuous "NO."

I'm going to groom for 45 minutes and then take a nap. You dudes resolve this shit. I'm out.

May the cats be ever in your favor.

... ... ... My President?

Here's a positive thought:

I now empathize with those who thought for the last eight years that America had an unqualified, illegitimate, toxic President.

Ever since January 2009, I'd wondered how any citizen in their right mind could harbor such bilious ill will against a democratically elected President. How seemingly rational people could simply refuse to accept, or even tolerate, that a candidate for whom they hadn't personally voted was the leader of the free world.

How the most innocuous words or actions could be twisted by his opponents into something contemptuous and derisible.

How every positive spin issued by his administration could be interpreted as blatant lies and hypocrisy.

But now I understand.

The current President of the United States won the Electoral College vote, the only measure of a candidate's victory per the Constitution.

And while I may believe with all my heart that the current President of the United States is a corrupt, inept, unremittingly oligarchic puppet of special interests, it doesn't change that he is what was elected to lead our nation for the next four years...assuming he isn't assassinated or impeached.

I  get it.

I reserve the right to assert my loyalty to my flag, my country, and my government.

While simultaneously reserving the right to protest the bullshit occupant of the White House as an incompetent narcissist moron.

Because this is still America, even post-Obama. Right?

Suck it, conservatives. You've been asking for this since 2008.

Man/woman up and advocate for America. Not for billionaires in #MAGA trucker caps. Not for our most cynical political operatives.

Let's try to be grown-up Americans for once, OK?

Like or comment if you agree.

Even if you don't, this is my truth. And I'm willing to post it here.

Twenty-Eight Things I'm Certain Donald Trump Has Never Done

Why 28? It's my favorite number.

I'm 99.44% sure Trump has never:

1. Rolled out a homemade pie crust.

2. Placed a receipt from a paid parking lot on his dashboard.

3. Worn the mesh bag from a Thanksgiving turkey as a hat.

4. Attended a Renaissance Faire (in or out of costume).

5. Impulse-bought something from the Dollar Spot at Target.

6. Attended a dollar movie theater.

7. Looked in his sofa cushions for enough money to buy donuts.

8. Wandered aimlessly around the adjoining shopping center while his mom shopped for groceries.

9. Checked a payphone coin return for change.

10. Binge-watched "The Big Bang Theory."

11. Walked home from somewhere because he missed the last bus.

12. Cleaned out the nasty soap scum and hair mixture from the bathroom sink drain.

13. Repainted the spare bedroom.

14. Responded to a newspaper ad offering original Beatles records for sale.

15. Wondered how he could afford to pay his income taxes.

16. Sat in the cheap seats at a sporting event.

17.  Made homemade Christmas gifts for loved ones.

18.  Sweated a job interview and/or offer.

19.  Changed a burnt-out porch light.

20.  Vacuumed the upholstery of his car.

21. Bought an underground title at an independent comic book store.

22.  Bought an alcoholic beverage at a convenience store.

23.  Bought tamales from a little Latino door-to-door salesman.

24.  Bought a Powerball ticket.

25.  Gone commando because he soiled his underwear.

26.  Sought out the non-MST3K version of an MST3K movie.

27.  Laughed knowingly at a Monty Python reference posted on social media by an old friend.

28.  Issued a sincere apology to someone he treated badly.

In case you're wondering, I've done ALL of these things.

If you can provide proof that Trump has, please let me know. I'm not really anticipating that, but sure, why not? I'll totally issue a retraction.

BTW, "issuing a retraction for saying something stupidly and demonstrably false" would be #29 on my list.

This Land Was Made for You and Me...No, Really

Guys, over on Twitter I've been retweeting a specific post all day.

It's from U.S. Representative Steve King (R-IA). Who is pretty much a known right-wing straight-up racist.

White af, thank you.

Today he tweeted a statement that has left many individuals and news outlets in a state of confusion and outrage.

Here it is:

Wilders understands that culture and demographics are our destiny. We can't restore our civilization with somebody else's babies. https://t.co/4nxLipafWO

— Steve King (@SteveKingIA) March 12, 2017

Read that last sentence again, and again.

"We can't restore our civilization with somebody else's babies."

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

My Precocious Daughter - my blue-eyed, blonde, 10,000% American child - is the product of immigrants from five countries. She is the descendant of German, Polish, English, Italian, and Irish people who came to America for a better life.

She is NOT "somebody else's babies."

She is currently dating an outstanding young man whose family emigrated here from Colombia. He was in middle school when they arrived in Texas. At the time, he spoke not a word of English. He is currently ranked second in their junior class. He and his parents are among the sweetest, smartest, warmest people I've ever met.

He is NOT "somebody else's babies."

I have a dear friend and former co-worker who came to America from Nigeria. He and his (American) wife have two gorgeous children. What I love about him is that he speaks and writes
impeccably in English, but on Facebook he communicates with his Nigerian friends in a patois that is basically unintelligible to me. It makes me so happy that he embraces both cultures while being a genuinely decent, nice person to everyone.

He is NOT "somebody else's babies" (nor are his children).

Rep. King, you are quite simply wrong when you state that this country needs to be "restored." We are fine. We are strong. We are evolving, despite efforts by you and your ilk to pretend we are not.

Also, you are incredibly ignorant if you believe the majority of Americans are somehow "pure" and not the descendants of immigrants from all over the globe. My ancestors totally did not sail here aboard the Mayflower, nor did the ancestors of the vast majority of people I know.

Finally, what the eff do you want to "restore" America to? An America without feminism, without civil rights, without racial equality, without tolerance and acceptance of people whose religion, politics, and sexual identity differs from yours?

That's not restoration, Mr. King. That's fear. And bullying. And cowardice.

Your blatantly nationalist, racist tweet will, I hope, define you from this point forward. In the meantime, millions of concerned Americans will fight to shout down your bigoted beliefs.

Restore America, my left buttock. Real Americans need to reclaim the idea of an accepting, inclusive America from troglodytes like you. Sir..

A few of my readers may agree with me.

Along with several million of my countrymen, born from "other people's babies."

Tune In, You Guys

The President of the United States wants to defund public television.

Yes, the Public Broadcasting Service, or PBS.

Non-American readers: If you want to understand the impact of this proposed defunding, please learn about PBS here. Actually, it's a good read for Americans, too, who might otherwise take the existence and ubiquity of public television for granted.

In a nutshell, if you live in the USA and have enjoyed any of these, it's because of PBS:

Muppets
Mister Rogers
Julia Child
The Electric Company
Bob Vila
Bob Ross (BOB F'ING ROSS, PEOPLE)
Monty Python
Fawlty Towers
Carl Sagan
Are You Being Served?
The PBS Newshour fka the McNeil/Lehrer Report
Sneak Previews with Siskel and Ebert
Austin City Limits (!!!)
Doctor Who
Clifford the Big Red Dog
Dragon Tales
Downton Abbey
Cosmos (COOOOOSSSSMMMOOOOSSSS)

But screw all that, because our current President wants to save approximately 0.05% of the total budget by slashing funding to PBS.

And we could totally appropriate that money for a gold-plated buttplug engraved with his initials, yo.

I DO NOT ENDORSE THIS AWESOME IMAGE, OK?

I'm so disheartened that this move is not motivated by a need to save money, but clearly by a need to destroy institutions that might with impunity question the right of our current Commander in Chief to do whatever the hell he wants at the expense of small, ineffective  players like, oh, the American People.

It's almost as if Trump promised - and is now fulfilling that promise - to be the President of the money-grubbing assholes who don't care about anything but their own wealth fuck yeah.

Because why else kill the network of Masterpiece Fucking Theater?

Yeah, I thought so.

My eyes are on 2018, Drunkards, when we can at least begin to take back America from the would-be fascist Scrooges of this country.

#Resist

Kill Masterpiece fucking Theater, my ass.

God Bless America.

Full Disclosure

When I'm wrong, I feel obligated to admit it.

Never easy, but sometimes necessary.

On November 12th, just a few days after the Presidential election, I attempted to put lipstick on the pig of our newly elected President, Donald Trump. With the best of intentions and highest hopes, I listed several totally non-catastrophic things I predicted would transpire once Trump was sworn in.

Drunkards, I was way off. I was, frankly, full of shit. I admit it.

In my defense, who would have guessed that Alec Baldwin's brilliant portrayal of Trump on "Saturday Night Live" would turn out to be a sensitive and restrained reflection of what The Donald would actually do once he took the oath of office?

Quick, which one is the real Alec Baldwin?

I stand before you tonight to say that my optimistic, sensible predictions about the Trump administration were complete bollocks. Nonsense. Bullshit. Left-wing dreams of a non-batshit-crazy America that simply doesn't exist.

Let me present my line-by-line predictions about the Trump administration and how terribly fucking wrong they've proven to be in less than three weeks.

1. It will turn out that Donald ruthlessly played both ends against the middle, and he will end up being a model moderate Republican, to the dismay of both his fans and his foes.

He's sold his soul to Satan, Lord of the Far Right, you guys. He (or the advisers he allows to speak for him) is democracy's worst nightmare.

2. He will subtly but definitively walk back his most controversial campaign promises (the wall, deporting Mexicans, banning Muslims, repealing the entirety of Obamacare), leaving it to Congress to make itself look bad by continuing to champion them.

The wall, the Muslim ban, the Obamacare repeal...all key initiatives in his first two weeks in office. Even GOP members of Congress are tugging at their collars and saying "Nyagh, nyagh, nyagh."

3. He will appoint an entire administration of traditional conservatives and let them operate autonomously, taking neither credit nor blame for their policy positions.

He's appointed hardline Christians and white supremacists at every opportunity.  And he's gloating about the reactionary, bigoted positions they've taken on his behalf.

4. He will let Vice President Mike Pence take ownership of the most batshit right-wing initiatives Congress might promote.

Pence is emerging as the voice of reason in the administration. That's fucked up beyond belief, people. He supports conversion therapy and incest babies.

5. Melania will turn out to be a charming and gracious First Lady whose personal causes will be neither laughable nor shallow.

Melania has not been in Washington, D.C. since January 21. She hasn't made an official statement, put together a staff, or embraced a cause since becoming First Lady. And she's forced us to imagine what Donald does in that empty White House bed of his. Gross. Bad. SAD!

6. Barron Trump will unfortunately be subject to the same over-magnified, under-filtered scrutiny that has befallen all Presidential children. (It will be interesting to see who propagates the hate and who defends him.)

Apart from a few stray memes, folks are leaving Barron alone. I mean, he's a rich kid who attends private school in New York City. That's boring. Not that he doesn't have plenty of time to become a snotty, sullen, rebellious First Kid. But right now he's just the normal son of a billionaire. Yawn.

7. A subset of Americans will continue to be anti-Semitic, anti-gay, anti-liberal, anti-Muslim, anti-redneck.

Some days it seems as if every-damm-body has taken a side, but this is actually substantially true. I just wish the anti-Semite, anti-gay, anti-Muslim faction didn't hold the highest positions in our government at this moment.

8. America will not perish.

I believe this is true. But tbh, I wouldn't put money on it right now.

In conclusion, I believe in admitting when I'm wrong. Unlike certain POTUSes and their appointees. I guess I'll revisit these statements in a few months and see how much closer or further away I am from being correct.

I've never wanted more to be right about anything.

Good luck, America and the world.

I'm Just Saying I Have a Pretty Full Plate on Jan 20

So tomorrow is January 20, and a new President of the United States will be inaugurated.

I'd be pretty happy if it were Frank Underwood, tbh.

I watched President Obama be sworn in both times. In 2009, it was because my entire little family had come down with the flu, so we were all home. In 2013, it was because I worked (and still work) for a company that gives MLK Day as a paid holiday, and it so happened that it fell on Inauguration Day that year.

My MLK holiday was on January 16 this year. And in addition to that, I took a sick day yesterday. And I do not feel that the inauguration of Donald J. Trump merits being absent from work for a third time in one week.

So I'm skipping the televised inauguration. I could stream it live from my office, except that:

1. Live streaming is officially frowned upon in the employee handbook.
2. I have a very full plate tomorrow and no time for non-work activities.
3. I don't want to.

And while I consider all three of the above arguments equally compelling, number 3 actually carries the most weight with me. I feel no need to watch Trump being sworn in live. If I choose, I'll be able to see it on YouTube, on CNN, on BuzzFeed any time over the next several days/weeks/eons (assuming the Internet will outlast us all). I presume that the transfer of power will occur peacefully, as it's done so 44 previous times in American history, whether I'm watching it happen or not.

It won't be this adorable, but hey, the Constitution
never mentions adorableness.

Please note that I've never used the hashtag #NotMyPresident. I didn't support attempts to sway electors away from their responsibility to vote Trump in states where Trump won. Dude won a strategic victory over an opponent whose campaign displayed unprecedented arrogance, entitlement, and failure to visualize a winning scenario by the GOP.

The object wasn't to win the popular vote, people. It was to win the Electoral College. And Trump, despicable and unqualified as he may be, scored that victory.

For someone who has built her life around political savvy, Hillary Clinton displayed a shocking lack of understanding of the American electorate.

But I digress.

I will not watch the live broadcast of Trump being sworn in, because I find that a nauseating proposition.

He's going to be President of the United States whether I watch it happen or not.

And he'll be President of the United States whether I support him or not.

Kind of like the last eight years under Barack Obama for conservatives.

Who am I to judge if they find this a good thing?

I think President Trump will be a permanent blight on the history of America. I just do.

Still...I'll be thrilled to be proven wrong. AND I'll be thrilled to be proven right if it means that the USA avoids catastrophe because such proof emerges in time.

But I won't watch the Trump era launch in real time.

Without Aretha's hat, it just isn't very interesting.

I'll bet Jackie Evancho doesn't even wear
a goddamn hat.

God bless America.

We need it now more than ever.