Category: humor

Frida’s Wandering Political Thoughts

It’s good to laugh out loud in the morning. Which I did today, reading of a new Republican plan.

Republicans say states are pulling a fast one on Medicaid

Republicans in Congress see a way around the $880 billion budget shortfall they need to fill to extend President Donald Trump’s tax cuts set to expire at the end of the year.

States aren’t going to like it.

To qualify for federal Medicaid dollars, states must also kick in their own matching funds. GOP lawmakers want to stop states from taxing insurers and health care providers to raise that money, a maneuver that would leave states with a $612 billion hole in their budgets over the next decade.

This is fucking hilarious. The GOTP are amazingly ignorant. Which states depend most on Federal Medicaid? Why, the poorer states. We know this from studies, statistics, and history. For example, West Virginia, one of the nation’s poorest states, are solid Medicaid recipients. Guess what? They won’t have this money.

Guess what else? They solidly voted PINO Trusk into office.

Can you guess what other states fit a similar profile to West Virginia? If you guessed red states, reward yourself.

So here goes the GOTP, chasing some illusion of cleverness and logic in a move that will spite their supporters. It looks like if anyone is pulling a fast one, it’s the GOTP. Wasn’t PINO Trusk just bloviating a few days ago that they wouldn’t touch Medicaid? Oh, but that’s right, what am I thinking? He can’t be trusted. Everyone except his supporters know that.

Brace yourself for the reciprocal wave if they pull this one off.

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Frida’s Theme Music

Spring continues its bold approach in Ashlandia. Winter will probably bound back in a few days but for now, it’s a beautiful day. 43 F with blue sky and sunshine. At one point in this aging morning, I walked into the kitchen and was met by a fierce shineslam of bright light. Haven’t had that kinda experience in months. The weather ‘they’ tell us we’ll crack 71 F today. But we saw 73 F at my abode’s weather thingy yesterday, so I cautiously hopeful that more the 70s will make it to the show.

This is Friday, February 28, 2025. Yes, the end of the year’s second month has arrived. The third month begins tomorrow. That’s how it used to work. But with PINO Trusk’s shitstorm and the Great Undoing, who knows what it’ll be? Maybe he’ll declare it February 29. Perhaps he’ll get it in his head that if the calendar doesn’t advance, then he’ll never leave office. He’ll just label every day as Trump and then append them with numbers.

No, that’s actually too reasonable and logical for him and his band of broken people.

Today’s song shouldn’t surprise. “Beautiful Day” by U2 came into this world at the turn of the century. Just decades ago, that seems like a far away time. It’s in the morning mental music stream because The Neurons heard me look out the window and say, “Wow, look at that, Papi, it’s a beautiful day.” For the record, Papi the ginger blade, aka Meep and Butter Butt, agreed. Or seemed to. He went out into the sunshine, stretched, and then eyed everything for threats and intrusions.

Hope it’s a beauty where you are, too. No matter what, try to make it a strong day for yourself.

Coffee has now crept into my system, somehow getting in there when I put it in a mug and raised the mug to my lips and tilted the mug back. So here we go, one more time. Cheers

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Papi

Daily writing prompt
If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be, and why?
View all responses

I think I’d like to be my cat, Papi. With us almost eight years, he remains so wary, I’d like to be him and know if there are memories of events that shaped him.

Papi on the living room button chair.

I’d like to get some insights into what the little floof is thinking when he comes to me and sits by me, staring up. He often does this after he finishes eating. I assume he wants attention, affection, so I scratch his head and chin and pet him. It usually seems to answer his need but sometimes he scurries off like he’s disappointed.

I want to be him so I can find out where he goes when he disappears for an hour. I want to be him to gain insights into how much he endangers himself with his roaming. Kind of looking for reassurance that the worse which I imagine isn’t what’s happening. I want comfort that he’s not running from dogs, almost getting hit by cars, narrowly escaping bears, cougars, and foxes. I want to know what he has against the gray and white cat that shows up once in a while, and why they start yelling at each other. Is it territorial, politics, or something else, like a miscommunicaiton.

I just want to know who he is, what he thinks, and what he does. Really, is that asking too much?

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Floofscan

Floofscan (floofinition) – A quick glance to spot an animal. Origins: 1973, UK.

In Use: “Bob did a quick floofscan to find his fur friend, fast checking her regular haunts before discovering her in the clothes basket atop darks waiting to be washed.”

In Use: “Many wags who live with cats refer to floofscans as catscans.”

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Floofsciousness

Floofsciousness (floofinition) – State of awareness regarding an animal’s presence. Origins: first known use in 1605 in northern Europe.

In Use: “Karla had developed a keen floofsciousness from living fifteen years with Sammy. She could feel him enter the bedroom when she settled her head onto the pillow and awaited sleep, anticipating his jump onto the bed and his progress to her side. Now, with him no longer with her, her floofsciousness felt sharper but untethered. She closed her eyes against crying again but tears still put hot paths across her cheeks, and the unstoppable litany, it’s not fair, went through her mind again.”

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Twosda’s Wandering Thoughts

Happy T-Rex Day! No, this isn’t about the band, who had many hits, including “Get It On” in 1971.

No, we’re celebrating the therapod in our house! Why not? Long gone — the species lived 60 to 72 million years ago — the mighty T. Rex is not forgotten. To celebrate the bipedal carnivore and its big head, we hold our arms up by our chest to mimic the creature’s small forelimbs. Then we walk around the house roaring, imitating what we’ve seen T. Rex do in movies. I find it both fun and theraputic.

Come on, get it on. Cheers

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Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

I received my new medical compression sock. Yes, just one, for the left leg. The right leg was in worse shape. The sock for it is now ordered and I’m waiting for it to arrive.

Meanwhile, the new ‘medical grade’ compression sock is custom made for my limb from the knee to the the toes. So one, difficult to put on. Two, comfortable. Three, much more difficult to get off.

But what really struck me is that it has a seam down the back that runs over my calf, Achilles tendon, heel, and on down my foot’s center. As I put it on and aligned it, I was reminded of a previous era, when women’s nylon stockings had a seam down the back. I remembered movies where a woman would show her legs and ask, “Are my seams straight?” So I went out to my wife and asked, “Is my seam straight?”

She rewarded me with a mild guffaw.

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More of this, Please

Owning them by their own bullshit is so sweet!

WYOMING:

“Thank you, Madam chairman.”

“I prefer ‘Mister’ chairman.”

“Well you all voted preferred pronouns cannot be compelled speech.”

WYOMING:“Thank you, Madam chairman.”“I prefer ‘Mister’ chairman.”“Well you all voted preferred pronouns cannot be compelled speech.”

— The Tennessee Holler (@thetnholler.bsky.social) 2025-02-22T05:18:19.841Z

Persist. Resist.

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