All this uproar over the Mueller report and Barr's disgusting manipulation of it over the last few days has thrown me off my game. I haven't written anything on APoS. I haven't worked on my sketches for A65. I've been dealing with idiots online who still support that SOB in the White House and accuse everyone else in the world of lying about him and what he's doing. It's enough to make you think mankind ought to be made extinct, if only to give Mother Nature a chance to start over and maybe do it right, this time. Jesus.
So I'd get angry and sad and hurt and disgusted and dangerous...often within the space of 5 minutes. Y'know, I don't believe in God, but Czar Snowflake's presence is damn close to proving to me he does exist, because that excuse for a man is the embodiment of evil; his sociopathic, animalistic behavior heavily laced with sadism and cruelty is Satanic, in everything. And he calls those like him to him -- demons to a demon.
The one funny part is, those creatures who work with him stupidly think he'll be loyal to them, when he's the type who chews you up and spits you out the second he's gotten everything he wants from you. Loyalty is a vile word to him, as he's proven over and over. I will not be shocked when he tosses his own sons under the bus to protect himself.
I'd pray he has an aneurism or cardiac arrest, but for those to be effective he has to have a brain and a heart, and he has neither. He's just a beast. And he fucking infuriates me.
I've never liked him. He's always struck me as a con-man, even when he was touting his book and doing that insipid reality show. I saw him as being two levels below Dillinger; at least that guy was honest about what he was -- a hood who killed people. This bastard in chief isn't even on the same level as the boiling clouds that evoked the Wizard of Oz, in the movie.
So last night I had to step back. I had a pounding headache and I know my blood pressure was way up. Fortunately, I learned about a Channel 4 sitcom called Derry Girls and joined Netflix so I could watch it. The story follows four friends in high school in Derry, circa 1992, just as the Troubles were beginning to wind down from weariness on both sides, and showed how typical and untouched their lives were. I took in all 6 half-hour episodes...and they cleansed my pallet. I'm hoping Season 2 comes along soon.
Today I spent promoting my books on a specialized website and began re-reading John Rechy's City of Night, a classic book about being gay in the early 60s. He's got a great style that doesn't believe in using apostrophes and skirts around the issue of sex very neatly. He's from El Paso but now lives in LA and is 88 years old...
Which gives me hope for me...
So I'd get angry and sad and hurt and disgusted and dangerous...often within the space of 5 minutes. Y'know, I don't believe in God, but Czar Snowflake's presence is damn close to proving to me he does exist, because that excuse for a man is the embodiment of evil; his sociopathic, animalistic behavior heavily laced with sadism and cruelty is Satanic, in everything. And he calls those like him to him -- demons to a demon.
The one funny part is, those creatures who work with him stupidly think he'll be loyal to them, when he's the type who chews you up and spits you out the second he's gotten everything he wants from you. Loyalty is a vile word to him, as he's proven over and over. I will not be shocked when he tosses his own sons under the bus to protect himself.
I'd pray he has an aneurism or cardiac arrest, but for those to be effective he has to have a brain and a heart, and he has neither. He's just a beast. And he fucking infuriates me.
I've never liked him. He's always struck me as a con-man, even when he was touting his book and doing that insipid reality show. I saw him as being two levels below Dillinger; at least that guy was honest about what he was -- a hood who killed people. This bastard in chief isn't even on the same level as the boiling clouds that evoked the Wizard of Oz, in the movie.
So last night I had to step back. I had a pounding headache and I know my blood pressure was way up. Fortunately, I learned about a Channel 4 sitcom called Derry Girls and joined Netflix so I could watch it. The story follows four friends in high school in Derry, circa 1992, just as the Troubles were beginning to wind down from weariness on both sides, and showed how typical and untouched their lives were. I took in all 6 half-hour episodes...and they cleansed my pallet. I'm hoping Season 2 comes along soon.
Today I spent promoting my books on a specialized website and began re-reading John Rechy's City of Night, a classic book about being gay in the early 60s. He's got a great style that doesn't believe in using apostrophes and skirts around the issue of sex very neatly. He's from El Paso but now lives in LA and is 88 years old...
Which gives me hope for me...
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