The Day After

Thanksgiving here in Valhalla was lovely. Ten made a brill dinner—Brussels sprouts roasted in white wine vinegar and extra virgin olive oil with sea salt and diced habaneros, tempura green beans, kung pao cauliflower and biscuits with apple maple grain sausage gravy.

I ate so much that I could barely get down a sliver of my beloved pecan pie. Of course this meant I had to have it for breakfast this morning (TWO pieces and I swear I could easily choke down a third).

I managed to mostly avoid doomscrolling by walking (two half mile jaunts) and reading a new book, You Had Me at Woof by Julie Klam.

Puppies are constantly inventing new ways to be bad. It's fascinating. You come into a room they've been in and see pieces of debris and try to figure out what you had that was made from wicker or what had been stuffed with fluff.

This is just one of the myriad reasons why I’m not a dog person. I like cats. Okay, I revere cats...possibly deify. Still, I’m enjoying Klam’s writing style and hope the library has other non-dog Klam books.

I did catch some news but it was a ridiculous bit courtesy of the Trump Clown Family.

Junior (is he Beavis or Butthead—I always get those two confused) has rushed to defend Qatar’s draconian homosexuality laws while also going full metal Q-anon. He pushed the utterly bizarre Dems are pedophiles and groomers projection horseshit and then, in the very same sentence, went off about vaccines.

What makes me laugh here is that Junior’s shacking up with an obviously failed drag queen. How can he be anti-LGBT? I understand his sexual confusion though—who was his male role model? Don the child rapist Con who was the BFF of serial child rapist and sex trafficker Jeffrey Epstein. Still, Coke Jaw’s an adult now—he should know better. Surely he’s seen one or two examples of nontoxic, sane male behavior by now. Oh wait, he’s a Republi/Fascist so that’s entirely unlikely.

Apparently Junior’s too dimwitted, coked up and soullessly corrupt (just like Pop) to pick the righteous and honorable life path. Hell’s bells, even daughter-wife (AKA the feckless cunt) has dumped dear old dad (via Instagram—how charmingly trumpian). For her, I expect, this was purely a business decision and in no way signifies any real disagreements with the fascist mountain of poo. Her father’s becoming unpopular, hence bad for her and JarJar’s brand—she had to cut him loose. Understandable, no?

Enough of those losers though. What’s on for today? Certainly NOT shopping! I’ve already got a half mile walk in and would do another but rain is expected soon. I suppose this means I’ll be ellipticalling which is totally NOT as enjoyable as a nice ramble. I’d love to trike again but the local traffic gives me the heebie jeebies.

Aside from more exercise and reading, I plan to follow the example of my brilliant Cake. NAPS and SNACKS!