Trump, politically, is an excited malign growth that has taken over the GOP.
Articles from Harrangue Man
How did it get into the pen? Did someone chuck it over the fence? Did the chickens do a breakout, steal money from my wallet then go get sushi?I suppose it's not as weird as the rubber Darth Vader head I found that time—it's staring at me as I type and now I've noticed that I have to move it ... there, I put it on the bobble head I have of Hawkeye.
I sat on the closed toilet to blow my nose then remained in the dark, door open, thinking about Mothers Day and what that means to me. My son walked past to get the shared wooden back scratcher from the study bookshelf and he re-affirmed it. His mother loves him to hurting point; even when annoyed there is no fear of abandonment, shame or distance.
I just had a stabbing moment of shifting uncertainty that we are in the wrong timeline; that somehow Trump is president. That it feels so wrong like a rip in spacetime wrong. It's magical thinking; we're just sentient meat on a rock billions of years old. To the universe we're of less interest that an ants nest at a building site. We're not special in celestial terms for it to owe us a re-do but it still feels wrong. Like "crime against time" wrong.
I love government; love it. I love the positive power a dedicated servant of government can have if they have the wind behind their backs. Good government is and always striving to do government better, in times of union with their rulers of the day, or in the dark times when politics makes good government treacherously difficult.I read a bunch about Trump before he got in.
Sodastream bottles have changed; they look like sort of a genie lamp with transparent middle and thick white plastic at the top and bottom. It was empty when it fell out as I opened the door but the bottom end of the bottle landed edge on to where my big toe meets the foot. I yelled "FUCK" loudly. Surprise!Thanks, fridge.
We have a "don't come into the shed when I am riding" rule because every dynamic puts me at risk. The door opens behind me, I get scared and if I have my shirt off then I feel acute fat shame because my gut spills over my waistband.It happened because I didn't further protect myself by not hanging up the no entry sign on the door. He came in, I got frightened and then I tried to cover my monstrous gut with my hands, almost trying to pull my girth in.
I went on a lake ride and listened to a CD titled "World of baroque" that had been ripped to my now ancient Sony mp3 player. It was a brilliant autumnal day, sun glinting on water, duck-related ambience and for me the pleasure of being outside and doing exercise I can actually do.
I'd bought four corn halves for the chickens, snapped one in two then fired one over into the pen for the bigs and then the other to the smalls.I came back into the house to put the corn away and saw two left in the bag. There was a husk on the ground.Which meant a cat had got one.