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Saturday, February 25, 2017

Picture Day

We've got a little less than a month to go before spring officially hits and I go all barefootedly snap happy. I am SO motherfucking ready for the sights and scents of spring! Yesterday's recess from the snow, chill winds and messy sidewalks was wonderfully glorious and SUCH a big fat tease.

Friday, February 24, 2017

Fin de Semaine

It’s been one hell of a week.

I’m still struggling with the flea issue. The cats seem fine (they’ve had the prescription flea-be-gone meds) but my skin suit’s a solid sheet of bites. Yeah, no fun. I’ve washed all the bedding (TWICE!) vacuumed, swept, sprayed Off and Flea-Go-the-Fuck-Away everywhere. They should all be dead now. Still, I’m itchy as all hell. Are these fresh bites or old? I’d flea bomb the hell outta the joint BUT I don’t know how I’d get poor Rocco out of the house. I rilly don’t want to traumatize him.

Coco? She’d be all ROAD TRIP! Our girl's more of an adventurer.
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Saw this comic by Robot Hugs recently.
Robot Hugs is a webcomic updated on Tuesdays and Thursdays, or thereabouts. It is about a lot of things, but you can expect to see a lot of cats, a bunch of identity, gender, and sexuality discussions, and explorations of depression and mental illness, especially in the winter. Robot Hugs may include occasional cartoon depictions of nudity and discussion of sexuality – NSFW comics are generally labelled as such.
From the About page:
Their hobbies include worrying, being concerned about things they can’t change, being angry, being uselessly angry, hiding from the world, and knitting.
Yes, I believe I’ve found a stone solid fellow traveler.
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Stupid shit seen while in line at the grocery – The Globe and The Enquirer. I know – OF COURSE! They're legendary in their inanity.

Do the writers/editors actually believe the crap they publish or are they just looking to scam $2.30 outta all the sad, angry Republican voting marks? Does it matter?

Hillary caught feeling country – to escape jail? FOR WHAT!? Unlike Trump, she’s committed no crimes. After almost 40 years of near constant investigations you’d think, if anything jail deserving existed, it woulda been found. The Benghazi shit-show alone cost us taxpaying types (i.e., NOT Trump) $6.8 million — nearly $8,000 per day. What’d they discover? Not too bloody much.
 Rep. Jason Chaffetz promised that just because he shook Hillary Clinton's hand at President Donald Trump's inauguration doesn't mean he'll abandon his investigation of her. (source)
Yeah, that's a GREAT use of taxpayer dough, eh? If Trump was subjected to that level of scrutiny, I bet we’d find LOADS of juicy crimes, misdemeanors and wicked indiscretions.

Obama’s got a secret plot to impeach Trump? Gee, how do you suppose a, sadly, former prez, someone no longer in office, is gonna accomplish that? I thought, for a microsecond about buying this fish wrap just so’s I could read some bizarre, feral fiction.

This shit’d be funny if it weren’t for the fact that people, including our president (!!!), believe all this horrifically execrable nonsense.
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Unseasonably warm here – in the 60ºs today and tomorrow. I'd be more climate freaked but it'll be back in the New-England-in-February 40s by Sunday. Also too, freakage isn't gonna get Scott Pruitt outta the EPA. Voting the asswipes out, writing our congressscritters, attending town halls, being engaged in our government and, yes, protesting will do a whole fuckton more than worry and fret action.

I suppose I'm gonna be all anxious anyway. Deep breathes. Yoga breathing. Gotta get into the habit of doing this, along with my Y time, every damn day! Yeah, I can go sit on the seawall, focus on the bitty waves and breath. 'scuse me, I think it's time to do that RIGHT NOW.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Group, the final frontier?

There's a fabulous Google-Doodle today, celebrating the discovery of possible life affording planets orbiting the dwarf star named Trappist-1.
A huddle of seven worlds, all close in size to Earth, and perhaps warm enough for water and the life it can sustain, has been spotted around a small, faint star in the constellation of Aquarius. (an aside: How cool is this? Planets that might have water were found in, yes, AQUARIUS!)

The discovery, which has thrilled astronomers, has raised hopes that the hunt for alien life beyond the solar system could start much sooner than previously thought, with the next generation of telescopes that are due to switch on in the next decade. (source)
I wish The Amazing Bob was here for this. He’d be so excited. TAB just loved looking at space pics and reading all about it.
One year for his birthday I bought him a big telescope figuring we could bring it out to the seawall and stargaze. My father had one when I was a wee kiddle. We lived in rural New Jersey so there wasn’t a lot of obstructing light pollution to queer the view. At five years of age, I didn’t really appreciate what I saw through his ‘scope (of course). Just a bunch of white dots to me. I prefered laying in the warm summer grass staring at the night sky, imagining constellations.

Horsehead Nebula
TAB was the same. Why stand outside in the snow and cold when I can sit in my big chair, Coco on my lap, looking at all the gorgeous Hubble shots while reading about space, the final frontier.

Yup. I bought him those big, NASA picture books. They captured his mondo, beautiful, poetic brain.

I just turned around to his big chair. I’m imagining him sitting there, smile broad on his handsome mug as he slowly pages through the awesome nebulae shots.

Most of the time, his absence feels purely, screamingly unbearable.

Eagle Nebula
I’ve decided to be a part of a bereavement support group at MGH. My hope is that, in being with others going through similar pain, maybe the excruciatingly sharp edges of loss will become more endurable.

Yesterday I met with the woman who helms the upcoming (end of March) eight sessions. In the days prior to meeting, I’d built up a lot of defenses – I seemed to be determined to NOT like her. This’d, naturally, get me outta the scary group sitch.

Why scary? For all my extrovert tendencies, I’m actually afraid of people. OK, I am when I’m feeling fragile, vulnerable and, boyhowdy, in this post-TAB world, that’s totes my everyday fettle. I’m afraid I’ll be slammed for not doing this grief shit right. I’m afraid of being zinged for talking too much or too little. I’m afraid of being swamped – shut out by other participants who’re maybe in more ferociously needy places than me.

I have to try this though. I can talk with Janice about the sessions – she’ll help me through this frightening new forest. Yeah, I can work through my fears and experiences in group therapy with my long-time therapist. How meta is this?

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Wake Up Call

 Let’s talk about my boy Rocco for a sec. Some mornings, VERY early, he gets bored. It’s not like I wake because I hear him zooming around the bedroom. Why not?

            A) I'm deaf so, yeah, not gonna hear his antics.
            B) Rocco’s an old fella now. He don’t zoom. Shenanigans are much more sedate.

How can I tell he’s bored? He wakes me up, dammit, that’s how!

Rocco's first attempt to rouse my poor sleeping carcass involves repeatedly tapping me on the tête. This does wake me but I always pull the duvet over my head and tell him “five more minutes, Rocco!” Unless, like this morning, it’s 2:30 in the bloody AM. Today I barked at him, “it’s too damn earlier, Boy, lemme sleep!”

Yeah sure....he listened, he paid heed. NOT!

Rotten beast wasn't hungry – he just wanted/NEEDED attention. Rocco escalated the wakey-wakey tactics by pushing a little paw under the covers and skritching my chin. When that didn’t work he went all Assault Level Four. He put his whole head under the covers, went nose to nose with me and allowed that NOW would be the time to get up and administer some motherfucking pats and skritches.  Dammit woman, GET UP!

Christ on kibble, he sure as Hell got his point across.

My poor old kitten’s never gone to Level Four before so I guess he must’ve been rilly, très ennui-ridden.

It’s times like this that I’m just stunned and amazed to recall his long, fierce, feral jungle warrior days. It was TEN years before he would allow me to come close to him AND pat him. Geez and I thought I had commitment issues.
When my cats aren't happy, I'm not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they're just sitting there thinking up ways to get even.
~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

How we behave toward cats here below determines our status in heaven.
~ Robert A. Heinlein
Y'all know I'm bound for Heaven's platinum level suites, right?
Cats do not have to be shown how to have a good time, for they are unfailing ingenious in that respect.
~ James Mason
You can keep a dog; but it is the cat who keeps people, because cats find humans useful domestic animals.
~ George Mikes

The phrase ‘domestic cat’ is an oxymoron.
~ George Will

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Could we catch a feckin’ break?

Ya know, even Fox News, of all ugly bleedin’ beasts, is starting to occasionally report news which doesn't feature the tiny dicked guns, god, permanent war (as long as I don't have to fight it) and fetch-me-another-Coors-woman  crowd in the most favorable light. Huh. Could this be a sign of the apocalypse?
Two hunters have been indicted in a West Texas shooting they falsely claimed was started by unauthorized immigrants. 
They said immigrants attacked them to try to steal the RV the hunting group was using — a false claim that was widely circulated, including by Texas Agriculture Commissioner Sid Miller, according to The Houston Chronicle. (source)
Interestingly, unsurprisingly and apparently, Herr Twitler gets his intel from Fox's remaining red soaked, reality challenged, fascistic corners. Specifically, he's paying close attention to that astoundingly untalented hack Tucker Carlson. Shouldn’t the Prez of the good ol’ US of A be getting daily briefings on what up in the world from…gosh, dunno…maybe the CIA, DIA, NSA, FBI, etc. fer instance?

Sweden’s Former Prime Minister Carl Bildt had some amusing remarks re: 45s pathetically ill informed, horseshit bluffery:
“Sweden? Terror attack? What has he been smoking? Questions abound,”
Chelsea Clinton had a few witty words too: 
What happened in Sweden Friday night? Did they catch the Bowling Green Massacre perpetrators?
Possibly Von Clownstick doesn’t like the CIA because they didn’t give him high fives and a standing o after the speech, where he allowed that, re: our invasion of Iraq:
“The old expression, to the victor belong the spoils,” the new president said, adding, “We should’ve kept the oil. But, okay, maybe we’ll have another chance. (source)
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I understand convicted felon and right wing smear tool Dinesh D’Souza and former deadbeat dad and all around chiseler, Joe Walsh, have their panties in a flaming twist because a coupla folks in some random comment section dissed the current FLOTUS for fumbling The Lord’s Prayer. Dudes, grow a pair – both of youse!

Oh but it’s us’ns on the Left who are the delicate little snowflakes! Right. Gotcha.
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Know what’d be cool? If only the folks who voted for the current, occasional White House resident had to pay the bills for his near-weekly expensive vacas, his progeny’s biz trips and Melania’s choice to stay in her gilded NYC tower. Nope, we're all footing the bill for their high life.
Donald Trump’s family’s trips have cost taxpayers nearly as much in a month as Barack Obama’s cost in an entire year.

The US President’s three visits to his Mar-a-Lago club in Florida since his presidential inauguration, combined with his sons’ business trips, reportedly cost $11.3m. (source)
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I understand Dense Pence has been met by protesters wherever he speaks as well as in his new neighborhood. GOOD!

By this time next year will the Dense One be our new Prez? Possibly I should look into investing some spare change in one of Paddy Power's pools. I imagine the GOP now understands that he'll make a far better, more pliable puppet than Cheeto Mussolini.

Meanwhile, Trump protests continue. I wasn’t able to go to yesterday’s doings here in Boston but will def be out in the streets again. Meanwhile, there’re postcards and letters to write.

As Michelle of Rubber Shoes in Hell would say, I'm cursing these fuckers hard enough to bend time.

Monday, February 20, 2017

Sinbad!

Yesterday was gorgeous! Almost 60º, mostly sunny and calm. Yes, I know it’s winter and that’s too damn warm but, ya know, it was just one day and it was GREAT.

Did I take advantage of this freakishly warm, sunny day. Meh, a tiny bit. My good friend Joe came down (from all the way up in Salem!) to visit. We went for a  small walk and then sat on the seawall enjoying the view, the peace.

After that we settled in for dinner and The 7th Voyage of Sinbad. It’s a 1958 flick sporting some mega high camp. I suspect, back when it first came out, it was supposed to be a big, awesome special effects laden action/adventure/fantastical blockbuster. I wonder if, 60 years down the road, Star Wars, The Avengers and Harry Potter will be seen as fun but goofily antiquated. Yeah, probably.
When a princess is shrunken by an evil wizard, Sinbad must undertake a quest to an island of monsters to cure her and prevent a war. (source)
I enjoyed the hell out of the movie. One thing though, all the good guys – Sinbad, Princess Parisa, Sokurah the evil magician and even the genie (the actor? A ten year old boy – that’s just WRONG. Genies are adults. Sheesh, everyone knows that!) are all played by actors rockin’ a whiter shade of pale. Conversely, the trecherous cons, who Sinbad’s sprung from hoosegow to assist on his expedition, are swarthy-ish if not significantly darker skinned.

White = good, righteous and pure. Not-white = bad, untrustworthy and corrupt. Gotcha.

At least the smiling, happy, happy, HAPPY princess, (who was, possibly, tripping her brains out on Ecstasy with an LSD chaser), wasn’t blond. ...small favors, eh?

I felt bad for the poor imprisoned dragon. Hells bells, I’d breathe some motherfucking fire too if I was kept in a dark cave and chained to a rock BY MY NECK! Poor baby, of course he was a little cranky.

And then there was the brutal and wholly unnecessary murder of the poor baby Roc. The ship's crew was hungry? Fer fuck’s sake, they could’ve eaten seaweed (shut up. I like seaweed!). They were on a tropical island – weren’t there any fruit trees or other awesome, tasty vegetation? Obvs the American Humane Association and PETA were not on the scene for this epic.

OK, I even pitied the cyclops but only just a tiny bit. He seemed kind of dickish.

I wanna see this again.

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Zombie Mammoths and Other Random Effluvia

Soonly making a return engagement to planet earth will be….DUN, DUN, DUUUUUUUUUN….the woolly mammoth!
Speaking ahead of the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS) annual meeting in Boston this week, the scientist leading the “de-extinction” effort said the Harvard team is just two years away from creating a hybrid embryo, in which mammoth traits would be programmed into an Asian elephant.
Holy Ghost Brigades, Batman!
The creature, sometimes referred to as a “mammophant”, would be partly elephant, but with features such as small ears, subcutaneous fat, long shaggy hair and cold-adapted blood. The mammoth genes for these traits are spliced into the elephant DNA using the powerful gene-editing tool, Crispr. (source)
I only mention it but doesn’t “mammophant” put humongous boobies in mind? They usually travel in pairs, by the by.

Also too, how 'bout bringing back the dodo? Coco and Rocco might like a fresh face in the house, ya know?
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This whole Trump/Putin/Russian thing…. I only mention it but on and off, every couple months, for the last year or so I’ve been getting a shit-ton of blog visitors from, yes, Russia. The heavy traffic lasts for a couple weeks and then vanishes, appearing again in 30-60 days-ish.

What’s this all about? At first I thought Oh, these are spammers looking for comments sections where they can poop out their links to hot Siberian sluts, replica Bulgari watches and aMAZing Mongolian investment opportunities sites. I NEVER got any spam links in my comment box though. Huh. My next thought was that, somehow, an English as a Second Language class was using my site as an example, possibly, of how NOT to speak the language.

In light of Putin’s manipulations and 45's fibs? I'm really curious.

HEY! KGB, if you’re reading, I don’t know dick about shit AND I’ve got negative amounts of sway with our government.
Just FYI and all.
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Once again, my cats have fleas  which means, naturally, that I have fleas.
*GROAN* How the hell can this happen in the middle of winter!

I’ve dosed them both with the expensive, prescription flea-be-gone med, washed all the bedding (mine and theirs) and sprayed Off everywhere. I think I'll hit the pet store later for flea specific death spray.

This better pass QUICK!

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Whack Impairment

I THINK I’m a lazy slag.

I THINK I’m Jabba-esque.

I THINK I’m viciously mean and intolerant towards Tea Party/Republicans and Purity Posse types.

Reality is quite different. I know that.
  • I’m in no feckin' way lazy.
  • While toting a few too many pounds, I’m NOT, figure-wise, giving that Tatooinen slug a run for his money.For what it's worth, I look better in a bathing suit than him. Honest!
  • While yes, I will cut assholes off at the knee, I give them a shit ton of rope first. I’m kind. I generally err on the way too diplomatic side even when it’s knee cutting time. I give assholes a chance to shine. When they prove incapable of civilized behavior? Well, boyhowdy, at that point I block, I cut them loose but I try to do it without breakin’ out the long knives. Really.  
My self image is way outta whack lately. How can I combat Illogical Self Concept Syndrome?
  • Re: my Laziness Hypothesis? I can keep an action diary to keep track of all that I accomplish each day. (and then read it later to remind myself!)
  • My Woolly Mammoths Are Svelte Compared to You Fixation? I can brave the scale – weigh myself each morning and look in the goddamned mirror. You know, witness the evidence. This along with continued sensible eating AND exercise. Of course.
  • Re: the Predatory Mean Girl Theory? Once more, I can check the evidence. Almost all of my communication is now written – I can check the text.
WHY am I a flaw finding demon to myself lately? Eh, all the usual reasons. Yesterday’s nagging, scold ogre flared when I realized that, over this past month, I’ve ONLY gone to the gym four days out of seven versus five or six. **GASP** Mind you, I get a full workout in – including stretching, I don’t stop at the donut counter on my way out and this lull in my gym rattiness has been slight and temporary.
An aside: WHY does the Y have a donut stand?! Coffee? Yes, I understand but rings of frosted fried dough?!!! Isn’t that kind of ALL cross purpose-y?
Whenever I’d get like this The Amazing Bob would yell at me (GENTLY), telling me to cut myself a break and stop being so hard on myself. He’d remind me of all that I am accomplishing every day. That and he’d heartily suggest that it’s OK and good to take a day off now and then. Smart, wonderful, giving man, my TAB. Now that he’s gone, I gotta learn how to do this shit for myself.

Can I just have him back instead?