Scratchy Glitter

Observations for the easily irritated.

Tag: politics

The Ramblings of a Basement Blogger

author blog create creative

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Photo selected because my hands look a lot like this, including the current nail polish (Rocky Rose by Essie). (They do not give me money or free nail polish for this endorsement.)

After some weeks of being galvanized into inaction, I could not help being stirred to its opposite by Trump’s communications director (who has yet to do her job and hold a press briefing) commenting that the impeachment investigation resembles “the ramblings of a basement blogger.” On behalf of all basement bloggers, I must object. Actually, I don’t have a basement. I have a crawlspace. But this is not coming to you from the crawlspace, but from my office, if you can call it that. It has as many spiderwebs as a crawlspace, though. ANYWAY, it seems to me that the people who are “rambling” are the ones who keep spouting debunked conspiracy theories, and that would be the Republicans.

VOTE FOR ME! I WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, BECAUSE I’M NOT ACTUALLY IN IT!

I WILL NEVER STOP FIGHTING THE PARTS OF SPEECH WAR

“Want to brain better? Take our supplement!” If your supplement worked, you’d realize that “brain” is not a verb.

“What happy tastes like.” HappiNESS.

In other advertising news, “Try our Christmas pancakes, covered with elf sprinkles!” makes me think that elves leave their droppings there. They’re round and red and green.

LET’S GET SERIOUS

I am mourning the loss of my beloved Briar Rose and Service Cat, Esmerelda, gone too soon from kidney disease. Black and white, introverted but intense, she had weaning issues and suckled on my hand several times a day for all of her 11 years.

She was the one who chose me at the shelter, and that’s hard to get over.

On her last day, she had catnip in the sun.

As Rom wrote in his elegy for her, she was the “harlequin companion we treasured for awhile.”

 

 

 

Jellyfish, Leggings, Perpetual Motion

jelly fish with reflection of blue light

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

When you type “science” into the Free Photo Library, a surprising number of jellyfish pictures come up. Maybe it’s related to that commercial for some type of supplement FOR YOUR BRAINNN, where they say, “based on an ingredient  commonly found in jellyfish!” Well, they are known for their intellectual abilities.

I was at McDonald’s, refilling my drink after picking up my dessert, and I overheard the employees talking–“Did that lady get her pumpkin pie?” “The older lady with glasses? Yeah, I just gave it to her.” So I am now THE OLDER LADY. Nothing like hearing it from people talking about you who don’t realize you can hear them. Rom said, “You could hear them–at least you’re not a deaf old lady.” Ageism has always struck me as the most stupid “ism” there is. You’ll never be black, or female, or whatever other group you think you’re superior to, but you will eventually be old. If everything works out for you.

In other news, I gave the guy at McD’s a $10 bill and 8 pennies for a $5.08 order yesterday, and he looked at me and said, “You gave me a ten dollar bill.” I said, “Yes, just give me five back.” He stared at me, then did as I suggested. Lest you think this sort of thing is limited to McDonald’s, I had the same thing happen at Taco John’s. Apparently the concept of giving change is foreign to the younger generation, because, hey, doesn’t everyone pay with a card? Or their phone? And it’s not like I’m a mathematical genius.

THE WAR ON PARTS OF SPEECH CONTINUES

“At Bayer, this is why we science.” If you’re scientists, you should be smart enough to know that “science” is not a verb.

“Panera’s Warm Grain Bowls are full of good.” GoodNESS. It’s goodNESS.

“This is how happy feels.” HappiNESS. Why is this so hard?

I should probably just give this issue up. Have you noticed I haven’t reminded you that leggings aren’t pants for awhile? {“You haven’t even posted for awhile,” they mutter.} When my dowdy-but-beloved Lands’ End (Serving Midwestern boomers since the 80’s!) features “Leggings for Every Body!” you know we’re doomed. Leggings are not really for every body. You just want to think they are.

Did you know that food commercials didn’t always have to feature the food in question being thrown through the air or through water? Drinks weren’t necessarily shown sloshing over the tops of their glasses, either. We seem to need perpetual motion. Even perfume bottles are often photographed as if the liquid is tilted or bubbling. I’m not sure what all this signifies, BUT IT MUST MEAN SOMETHING.

VOTE FOR ME! I WON’T SEND MY MINIONS TO STORM THE SECURE CONGRESSIONAL CHAMBER JUST BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE AN ACTUAL ARGUMENT TO OPPOSE THEM!

Ahem. When Rudy Giuliani responds to an argument by saying “Shh, shh, shh,” you know they got nuthin’.

 

 

 

OFF THE RAILS

black and white person feeling smiling

Photo by Gratisography on Pexels.com

BROUGHT TO YOU IN ALL-CAPS VISION

HOW DARE THEY TRY TO IMPEACH ME, THEY SHOULD BE IMPEACHED THEMSELVES, SURE IT SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE BUT THAT’S JUST BECAUSE YOU DON’T INHABIT THE REALITY THAT I DO, NO ONE ELSE IS REAL AND I WILL NEVER DIE, AND IF I WANT TO DYE MY HAIR ORANGE EVEN THOUGH I DREAMED IT WAS PURPLE, PILE IT ON MY HEAD, AND WEAR WHITE SHORTS IN PUBLIC, THAT IS ALL PERFECT BECAUSE I AM A VERY STABLE GENIUS, NOT JUST STABLE BUT VERY STABLE, BECAUSE I SAID SO, AND WHO SHOULD YOU TRUST MORE THAN ME, BECAUSE ALL THE SO-CALLED EXPERTS HAVE BEEN LYING TO YOU FOR YEARS, BUT I’M NOT LYING BECAUSE I SAID SO, WATCH OUT OR I WILL GIVE YOU A NICKNAME WITH THE WORD “LIL” OR “LIDDLE” IN IT, BECAUSE ONLY I AM BIG, AND SURE I JUST WON ON A TECHNICALITY BUT THAT’S ONLY BECAUSE IT WAS RIGGED, BECAUSE IF IT WASN’T RIGGED, EVERYONE WOULD HAVE VOTED FOR ME, BECAUSE I SAID SO AND I HAVE THE BEST RATINGS, AND RATINGS ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT THING. THAT AND MONEY, AND I HAVE THE MOST OF THAT, TOO. I AM NOT INSANE.

(Disclaimer: The above is satire {albeit heavy-handed}. No one needs to come check on me.)

VOTE FOR ME, I’M THE OUTSIDER!

Alcohol Is Writing For Me

three persons wearing unicorn costumes

Photo by THE COLLAB. on Pexels.com

And why not? It has for many before me. And I want to know what’s the problem with the unicorn in the background here.

THIS JUST IN

Fiona & Archer are now 8. She gave Rom a “note from the Cersive {sp} Fairy–I can write cersive!” and signed her name. Rom said the fairy hadn’t spelled “cursive” correctly, and Fiona said, “Well, she’s only 5!” She then admitted that there is, in fact, no cursive fairy. I see a career in politics in her future. Archer somehow managed to restrain himself from questioning belief in said fairy. If he had done so, it would have been in a sentence beginning, “Actually…”

ANOTHER DAY, NO ALCOHOL THIS TIME

See, I’m versatile.

My brother-in-law told me a story that reminded me of the old days of talking to the reality-challenged on 911. A neighbor in his apartment building came to him and informed him that:

  1. The out-of-state license plates on the apartment building’s lot belonged to people who were here to spy on him,
  2. These people hacked into his mother’s phone in an attempt to get at him,
  3. What appear to be stars in the sky are actually drones spying on him.

He must be very important indeed.

COMING UP ON THEATER OF CRUELTY

Well, eventually. An account of Nick at the Fall Festival, although he’s now claiming he will attempt to avoid me. Probably because I’ve avoided posting about him at the festival a couple of previous years. And also because I had the barbs removed from his tail.

CAMPAIGN UPDATE

Vote for me! I know no one in foreign countries, so I can’t sell out the U.S. for political gain! Although, if I did, I would echo the guy I overheard at McDonald’s who said, “That whistleblower is the one they should go after!”

Also vote for me if you’re tired of politicians waving their arms around.

MY TRUE SUPERPOWER

On Friday the 13th Eve this month (namely, Thursday the 12th), I had finished my lunch at McD’s and took my tray to the trash can. Having dumped it, I turned and somehow got my foot caught in the legs of a baby chair, which somehow pulled my foot out from under me, and I fell–luckily on a well-padded area (of me, not the floor, although maybe the floor should be padded).. Sure, the baby chairs were lined up neatly against the wall, but hey, they were gray and the wall was brown, so…I was amused to note the following day that they’d put a yellow CAUTION cone next to them. The following day, it had been removed. How soon we forget.

I clicked on frequently-used words to tag this post with. I wanted “politics,” but they kept giving me “apologies” instead. Hmm.

Tyranny, Mutation, and Stuff

black and white dartboard

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

The above picture was chosen for its superficial resemblance to the cover of a favorite Blue Oyster Cult album, Tyranny and Mutation.

And speaking of which, let’s add to the Radical Centrist Manifesto:

–You are not entitled to free healthcare.

–You are, however, entitled to affordable healthcare.

“Radical Centrism–Our Motto: ‘See How Easy That Was?'”

VOTE FOR ME! I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING, BUT NEITHER DOES ANYONE ELSE!

SOCIAL PAGE: PARTY AT NICK’S PLACE

Nick had a birthday party for his two youngest cubs, who turned six and one respectively, on adjacent days. It featured the usual elements:

–Me Bringing My Own medication, a can of which will make me actually engage in conversation eventually,

–two palatial inflatable structures, with your choice of Water or Not

–a child getting on top of one structure, endangering his companions within

–a small child refusing to get out of the bottom of the water slide, annoying his companions at the top who now can’t slide down

–Nick engaging in reckless adrenaline-fueled activity in spite of a recent injury

–me going inside to decompress, only to be cornered by a dog and a small child

–adults discussing whatever surgery they’ve recently received

–Nick and his mate wrestling on the ground, trying to smear cake on each other. I was told this courtship ritual occurs at every birthday party, but I had not been privileged to see it previously. Actually, I didn’t see it this time, either, since the table was in the way. I only witnessed the combatants arising, duly covered with cake. I think Nick ended up taking several showers that day, for one reason or another.

–Cheetos! And cake, which I cut the frosting off of. I ate too much of both. But it was my first meal of the day, after all.

Speaking of Cheetos (that should have been my post title right there), I’ve noticed a cultural oddity: In my youth, the standard Cheeto type was those puffy styrofoam-like cylinders. Then they introduced an option: “Baked to a delicate crunch, or quick-fried to a crackly crunch!” (Or “indelicate crunch,” if you will.) It took a long time for the latter to catch on–my preference for them was considered a bit eccentric–but now they are the default Cheeto. (Disclaimer: My market research for this consists mainly in noting which kind is the standard-issue at Subway, which may not be a representative sampling, but probably is.)

Good thing I didn’t become a college professor (which I considered becoming until my Great American Novel was published), or the world would have been treated to “Cultural Shifts in Cheeto Consumption Over Time.” Publish or perish!

 

 

 

 

 

Holiday Complaints

defocused image of illuminated christmas lights

Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán on Pexels.comWell

Well, the year is half over. Time to complain about Labor Day/Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas/almost time for New Year’s. How time flies.

I speak from the unique perspective of a rock star who’s also running for President. (“And has a pet dragon, don’t forget,” says Nick, curled at my feet.) I am capable of simultaneously wishing time was up and we already knew who the Democratic nominee is, and realizing this knowledge will not affect my vote.

A ROM-STYLE OLD-FASHIONED RANT

“Schools struggle with teaching slavery.” The reason is that re-enacting slavery in the classroom proves traumatizing to kids. How about…hear me out…we just READ ABOUT IT, AND SAY IT WAS BAD, WITHOUT FEELING COMPELLED TO RE-ENACT IT?  Looking at modern education as an autistic person, I have to say it was easier to pass for neuro-typical in the old days. If I had to re-enact stuff as a matter of course, I would for sure need special classes. “Senior service projects”? You have to “go out into the community” in order to graduate? Call me special-needs.

This is making me flash back to work-related “role-playing” training, and required visits to other agencies to see how they did stuff., and having other people “sit with you, and watch you answer 911 calls.” It still makes me want to scream. Hmm, it would have been interesting to have screamed at work. Maybe I’ll go out there and do so. I’ll have to call on the outside phone, and say, “I worked there for 30 years,” and hope someone remembers that no one has yet worked there longer.

WHY ARE PEOPLE STILL SHOOTING OFF FIREWORKS??? FOR THAT MATTER, WHY ARE THEY LEGAL FOR CIVILIANS??? SURELY MY QUANTITY OF QUESTION MARKS WILL DO SOMETHING????

 

 

 

 

 

 

Donald Trump Is the Antichrist For Our Time

silhouette of statue near trump building at daytime

Photo by Carlos Herrero on Pexels.com

I was watching the news, and they were covering a Trump rally which had not yet started. Music was playing in the background. “Screaming guitar,” Rom noted. “I know that solo–every note of it,” I said, thinking hard, then I realized–“Sympathy for the Devil!” Sympathy for the facking Devil, I thought (thereby taking the Devil’s name in vain). What the hell?!

Turns out this is a regular feature of these rallies. (By the way–campaign rallies right after the election? Need to be stroked much?) According to reporter Ryan Lizza, Trump has put together a mix tape (or whatever we call them these days), and the band most represented is the Stones. Trump is open to suggestions, however–Lizza was told, “The more inappropriate for a political event, the better.” I doubt anyone is going to come up with anything less appropriate than a mission statement from Satan, however.

The thing is, Rom and I had been joking earlier that maybe Trump is the Antichrist. “I expected the Antichrist to be slicker,” Rom said. But maybe we’ve created the Devil in our own image–coarse, crude, and he’s figured out that what’s wrong with lying in politics is that no one’s lied often enough. Plus, for sheer pettiness, you can’t beat going to court to argue that you shouldn’t have to provide people in detention centers with soap. Of course, at least one of his supporters has argued that the solution to the problem is to “Shoot ’em!” (Disclaimer: I am not for “open borders.”)

Of course, someone could always claim that this post is motivated by the fact that I myself am running for President. (By the way, I will not be at the debates tonight, having a polling number of 0%.) I need to get those “I’m the Outsider!” t-shirts printed up. As soon as I finish the ones for the Sour Neon Crawlers.

 

Dear Diary…

purple leather notebook black pen and brown branches

Photo by Alena Koval on Pexels.com

…I’m not sure what the twigs in this photo would be used for.

DEATH & TAXES UPDATE

From the state Department of Revenue: “We calculate your refund this year as $55, not the $121 you stated on your return. If you wish to dispute this, you may use the enclosed envelope.”

  1. If you already know how much it should be, what are you bothering me for?
  2. No, I do not wish to dispute this. I wish to back away from you slowly. I know a dragon curled on a pile of gold when I see one.

ROOM FOR IMPROVEMENT

I have been inundated with messages on “How To Be a Better Blogger!” If I was going to become a better blogger, I’d have done it by now.

ADVERTISING UPDATE

Febreze ad: “Your house smells musty because it contains soft objects that trap odors, then release them back into the air.” No fair! Why can’t they just trap the odors and keep them? “Febreze can even be used on clothes you want to wear another day!” Yeah, along with your dry shampoo for “the days you don’t wash your hair.” Let’s just live in filth. {Disclaimer: The other day, a Cheerio rolled off the table and into the corner, and I thought, No, I’m not eating that.}

Home decorating ad: “Our flooring will give your home that vacation feeling.” Rom: “That’s a lot to ask from a floor.” {Obviously, my kitchen floor does not give us that feeling–see above.}

VOTE FOR ME, I’M AS GOOD AS ANYONE!

In fact, better than some–I can make a public statement without saying anything stupid or abusive! Or get my picture taken without shoving others aside to get to the front of the line! And I know the place for my signature is at the bottom of the page! I have so much to recommend me.

WHAT MY OPPONENTS’ OPPOSITION RESEARCH WILL REVEAL ABOUT ME

Yesterday, Rom called me from the bike shop and told me his new bike would cost more than twice what we expected. Luckily, there was no one else at the bus stop to hear me cursing. Fiercely brooding about this, I got off the bus and headed for the convenience store, to drown my sorrows in a fountain drink. I obtained same and headed out the door. “Hello!” the clerk said. “Hi,” I answered, wondering why he was saying that as I was leaving. Turns out I’d forgotten the paying-for-it part.

 

Freedom Day

grayscale photography of waiting shed near open road at night

Photo by Alexander Kovalyov on Pexels.com

I guess everything looks cooler in black and white, Even a bus stop.

FLANNERY O’CONNOR AT THE BUS STOP

Flannery O’Connor was Catholic and wrote weird stories about the South. At any rate, the same woman who had previously announced at the stop that she’d shot a diseased chicken with a shotgun was there today. She wears glasses and has hair dyed pink and red, with dark roots, which reminds me uneasily of something I might have done at her age. AND SHE WAS TELLING US ABOUT HOW HER FAMILY ALWAYS TALKS ALL THE TIME AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS LIKE SHE DOES, AND IF YOU CAN’T KEEP UP, TOO BAD, AND ONCE HER COLLEGE PROFESSOR GAVE HER AN F ON A PAPER AND SAID IT WAS “INCOHERENT RAMBLING.” Meanwhile, her man, a soft-spoken guy with the accent of his native Pennsylvania (according to him, I didn’t think he had any accent) was wearing a t-shirt with an old-timey newscaster, and the words “THIS JUST IN. YOU’RE AN IDIOT.” Actually, I am a very stable genius. I have to tell you, or else you’d never be able to figure it out.

IRONY ALERT

A picture of an old-timey 50’s newscaster signals that something ironic is about to be expressed. Similar, but more general in application, to a picture of a smiling old-timey 50’s housewife, which signals something ironically feminist, because all old-timey housewives are assumed to have been repressed and miserable and in a state of desperate denial . Get it?

CAMPAIGN NON-PROMISES

I need to update these, as 2020 is, well, not fast-approaching, exactly, but you get the idea.

If elected, I will not:

  1. Alienate our allies.
  2. Suck up to dictators. (I will be a dictator unto myself.)
  3. Impose tariffs on everyone even though I don’t understand how they work.
  4. Say that you owe me an additional 2 years on my term for daring to investigate me.
  5. Pay someone to block the release of my tax returns/school grades/SAT scores. My state of stable geniushood should be obvious to all.
  6. Dye my hair an unnatural color.
  7. Have a fake tan. Actually, have any tan at all.

So, if you’re trying to think who to write in on the ballot, keep me in mind. Then they’ll have to go looking for me. It’ll be like John Galt in “Atlas Shrugged.” Except better-written.

Oh, and the title? I retired 2 years ago today.

Here I Am

2 BEVERAGE-RELATED TIPS (I REFUSE TO CALL THEM “LIFE HACKS”)

–Do not get an alcoholic beverage in your eye.

–Look at your water glass before you drink from it, unless you want an ant in your mouth. Rom’s response was, “Dead or alive?,” as if that made a difference.

WordPress is telling me, “Try the new block editor and level up your layout.” I don’t even know what that means, so I guess I don’t need it.

VOTE FOR ME, I’M THE OUTSIDER! 

Are you desperate enough yet?

THE WORST PHONE SCAM EVER

Rom’s phone rang. He was napping, so I answered it. The India-accented caller seemed surprised at hearing my voice, but then said, “Do you want Cialis erection medicine–for your husband?” To buy time while I gathered my wits, I said, “Excuse me?” (a tactic I learned at 911–911 builds character!) He hurried on, “Or Oxycontin or Fentanyl–we have very good prices!” You know, something tells me that reputable pharmacies do not call you out of the blue and offer you opioids.

macro photo of black carpenter ant on green leaf

Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

 

 

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