Tag: Cat

Wenzda’s Theme Music

Welcome to Wenzda, June 4, 2025. Blissful on the back patio this morning. 65 F and sunny, the backyard was vibrant with greenery, and absolutely still and silent, a perfect setting to sip coffee, catch rays, and rebalance my circadian rhythm. Papi the butter butt floof was my sole companion. Fresh from eating breakfast, he was content to clean himself with occassional passes against my calves. 80 is again the mark nature has set for us as a high in Ashlandia.

Happy Pride Month. June is Pride Month. Fools and charlatans in the Gold House, the place previously referred to the White House, contest the need to celebrate Pride Month. They prefer to believe that anyone who professes anything but straight genders and roles are crazy, making it up, or other ridiculous things. And I say, screw them. We will keep building and progressing. It might be on pause while they’re in control, but they are not moving us back, no matter how hard they try, no matter what they do. We will build an inclusive world where all people are equal without any qualifications imposed by anyone else. It’s strikingly hypocritical that the right will say things about God being the creator and giving rights and simultaneously deny that God created anyone who dares say, for example, my name is Michael, and my preferred pronouns are she and her. “How dare you,” these self-annointed arbiters shriek. I ask them back, “How dare you. Who the hell are you to decide who the rest of us are? Screw you.”

In honor of Pride Month, let’s begin with “Born This Way” by Lady Gaga. Wikipedia gives us a good summary of the song.

“Born This Way” is a song by American singer Lady Gaga, and the lead single from her second studio album of the same name. Written by Gaga and Jeppe Laursen, who produced it along with Fernando Garibay and DJ White Shadow, the track was developed while Gaga was on the road with the Monster Ball Tour. Inspired by 1990s music which empowered women, minorities, and the LGBT community, Gaga explained that “Born This Way” was her freedom song.

Lady Gaga said, “I want to write my this-is-who-the-fuck-I-am anthem, but I don’t want it to be hidden in poetic wizardry and metaphors. I want it to be an attack, an assault on the issue because I think, especially in today’s music, everything gets kind of washy sometimes and the message gets hidden in the lyrical play. Harkening back to the early ’90s, when Madonna, En Vogue, Whitney Houston and TLC were making very empowering music for women and the gay community and all kind of disenfranchised communities, the lyrics and the melodies were very poignant and very gospel and very spiritual and I said, ‘That’s the kind of record I need to make. That’s the record that’s going to shake up the industry.’ It’s not about the track. It’s not about the production. It’s about the song. Anyone could sing ‘Born This Way’. It could’ve been anyone.”

Got my coffee. I enjoy a cup in the morning. I was born that way. Have the best Wenzda you can. Cheers

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Twosda’s Theme Music

Summer is pushing more blue sky and sunshine on us. Chastised clouds have slipped the area and the sun reigns supreme. 70 F at 11 AM, we’re anticipating…78 F as our high. Sweet to me.

Papi the butter butt floof loves this warm weather. He came in this morning. We shared a purrful visit, then he stuffed himself on kibble, wet food, treats, and water. Now he’s floofsconced in the vinca. Only his sweet ginger and white face is visible among the green leaves.

Today’s music arrived with a boost from my wife. I was listening to a video which played a few seconds of every Billboard weekly number one hit song in the United States from the beginning of 1960 to the end of 1969. This came to my attention via 1440’s deep dive into the history of rock and roll.

My wife came in as the video advanced through “These Boots Are Made for Walking”, “The Ballad of the Green Berets”, “(You’re My) Soul and Inspiration”, “Good Lovin'”, and “Monday, Monday”.

“What year are you listening to?” she asked.

“Guess,” I replied.

She tried 1970, 1968, and then 1965. “1966,” I said. A little later, Bobbie Gentry sang, “Harper Valley PTA”.

My wife sang along and then said, “I love that song. But the very first record I ever wanted was “Society’s Child” by Janis Ian. I think I was thirteen. I asked for it for Christmas but I didn’t get it.”

I looked it up. “That came out in 1967.”

“How old was I then?”

“Ten.”

Anyway, The Neurons slipped “Society’s Child” into the morning mental music stream when I wasn’t paying attention. My wife thought the song had hit number one; I never told her that it didn’t break the top 10. Of course, bigotry and racism and it’s controversial topic of interracial dating kept it from getting airtime.

I’m at the coffee shop, my fix at hand. There was a line and a hold up. As I waited, the manager came around with my drink, along with the side of ice water which I always request. “Where do you want these, Michael?” she asked.

Laughing, I answered, “I can take them,” but she insisted on delivering them to my table for me.

Sweet service, if you can get it. Cheers

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An Oven DIY Update.

Well. That’s over with. A new igniter is installed and working in my GE Profile range

It was not easy. Not the 30 minute job advertised. Noooo. Because, manufacturing. So.

Part arrives. Looks right. Saturday afternoon, I begin.

Turn off power to range. Remove top iron grills and burner covers. Empty bottom storage of the baking sheets and iron skillets. Remove oven door. Slide out from wall. Unplug. Turn off gas.

Now we’re cooking.

Remove racks. Remove two screws from the back on the fire shield. Shift back, lift up and remove fire shield.

It’s all going like a dream.

Locate igniter. Bingo, right there. Remove two screws. Remove two screws. Remove…two…screws…

One breaks off. Fuck Second one just turns and turns, apparently stripped.

Try a zillion fucking ways to get that screw out. No. Go.

Three hours have passed. I’m dripping sweat. I stop for the day. Realize sometime during the evening, I’m going to need to grind off that screw head. I need a tool for that, research options, and make shopping plans.

Ten o’clock. I get ready to go shopping. My wife pops off to a friend’s house. She calls as I’m walking out the door. The friend has a Dremel I can use to grind the head off. His son has it as his place, about two miles from my place. Off I go to pick it up and bring it back.

The friend’s son is a friend and a retired editor and literary agent, so we talk books and publishing for thirty minutes. He’s always a good visit. He’s also just lost his cat to cancer; another ten minutes is spent on sympathy and pain.

Back at home, gloves and goggles are donned, the grinder is plugged in, and the head is ground off. The igniter is freed from its bracket but remains wired in. To get to that, I should remove several more pieces but after that previous screw episode, that is not going to happen. I instead cut the wires to the igniter and remove the plug out the back. Next, I twist and shift my fingers, screwdrivers, and pliers until the new igniter’s connections are through the 1.25 inch through the back. I really could have used four more hands and much longer arms during this process. The igniter is put into place. New screws are installed.

Then, reverse disassembly. Just enough to let me test that puppy. Gas on. Power on. Plugged in. Fingers crossed, oven turned on.

Success.

The range’s empty space is cleaned, then the range is manuevered back into place. Everything is returned to its position and the tools are put away. It’s 2:30.

Time for lunch. Water. And rest.

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Sunda’s Theme Music

Clouds have overtaken Ashlandia again. It’s a cool summery start to June, this being Sunda, June 2, 2025, and a pleasant way to ease out of spring, that being the current rotation, as we’re north of 0 degrees latitude.

Did you read about the mutation which they believe give orange cats their color? Scientists track down mutation that makes orange cats orange. The story comments, “It took researchers a century to find the genetic glitch that causes orange coloration in cats.” Turns out the Arhgap36 gene was involved. Go figure, right? They weren’t able to find any explanations for the orange personality, though.

Today’s song is in honor of PINO TACO. TACO, which means, “Trump Always Chickening Out”, has become PINO Trump’s favorite nickname. *snark*. The Neurons came up with it as I was breaking my fast. Into my morning mental music came “Macho Man”, the 1978 Village People song. But instead of the song’s original lyrics, The Neurons were singing “TACO, TACO man. PINO Trump is such a TACO man.” And so on. The revised lyrics don’t make a lick of sense, but it’s a rock parody, and it’s fun singing that PINO Trump is such a TACO man.” Heh.

Now, I must press on. My oven igniter replacement DIY project is underway. It’s been fraught with issues. Blood pressure has probably gone higher than any mountain. So, onward once again. I think I’ll start with some tacos. Some reason, I’m craving them.

And reminder, this is Jun 1. Big demonstrations planned for Jun 14. Be there or be a MAGAt. Cheers

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Frida’s Theme Music

Got up early, cut the grass. It’s Frida. Gonna be 95 F plus here in Ashlandia today. It’s 85 F now, all pretty typical for May’s penultimate day, the 30th, in 2025. Connectivity issues are stalking me in the coffee shop, which is also typical for when it’s hot, cold, wet, snowy, windy, or stormy. This post took an extra chunk of time because connectivity drops, and the categories and tags would disappear. Sigh of frustration.

Papi has taken early to his hot weather hidey hole among the vinca on the house’s side yard.

The photo was taken through the window glass, between the blinds, with my phone. Papi is usually hyper aware of sound, so I didn’t want to move the blinds and risk waking him. That’s me, don’t-disturb-the-cat Michael.

The news spin is so fast, it’s like trying to catch Road Runner. Just ask Wile E. Coyote how challenging that is, and he’s a super genius. Tariffs are on hold, tariffs are back, the Roberts Court ruled for TACO, the SCOTUS ruled against TACO. Senators are speaking against Trump, speakers have just supported his agenda. The stock market is up, the stock market is down.

Speaking of super geniuses, TACO sent the stock market tumbling with accusations that China has been caught cheating on tariffs. Given TACO’s usual M.O., that means the TACO Regime was probably caught cheating. Or they’re playing squirrel again, trying to distract us from news and information which TACO finds upsetting and doesn’t want us to notice. It might just be that he’s trying to make us forget that we’re calling him TACO now.

LET’S GO, TACO!

There. Don’t know if he got that. It’s our version of “Let’s Go, Brandon” that made the right so happy last year. Maybe if more of us did it, TACO will get the message. So, let’s all amplify it via social media:

News reading and wondering what fresh bad news is rising for TACO has The Neurons firing up “Duran Duran” with “Is There Something I Should Know?” from 1983 in the morning mental music stream. I suppose it could be the Propublica and Texas Tribune article (shared here via Alternet) that the Trump Regime knew that the Venezuelans they deported were not the criminals claimed. Maybe there’s worse economic news coming that’s prompting the Trump Regime to shout, “Squirrel!” Time will tell.

Hope your Frida works out well for you. Hope mine works out for me and my family, too. Let’s make it the best one we can. Coffee is at hand. Here we go again. Cheers

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Wenzda’s Theme Music

It’s been over two weeks since I last heard the furnace warming our house. That pleases me. Pleases my mango tango, the ginger floof known as Papi even more. He scampers in to say hello and eat but otherwise lives a life snoozing in secret places among cooling bushes and vinca. Not a bad life for him, I think.

Today is Wenzda, May 28, 2025. Munda passed in a flounce. Tuesday barely registered for me. Here I sit on Wenzda, enjoying blue sky and sunshine. Air temp is already 80 F with 88 in our sights today. Later this week, we expect to push past 90 F. We’ll soon see the green hills on the valley’s northern sun brown like baking bread.

I went to cut back the backyard. The weeds had shoot up to a foot in height. Finally turned my attention to whacking it back, but when I went out there — bees were buzzing around the weeds. I was so pleased to see them. A hummingbird zipped by, too. Hallelujah, sang The Neurons. Out front, a thick buzz was rising from the tree upfront which the bees regularly frequent. They hadn’t been around yet and I was happy to see them back.

The Neurons have blessed the morning mental music stream with “Bad Company”. “Bad Company” is a 1974 power ballad by the group called “Bad Company”. Ostensibly, it relates to the chosen life of being a gunslinger but to hear him say it, he really had no choice. I can dig that; I feel as if choice is taken from me when it comes to writing. This boy’s gotta do it. However, I don’t know why The Neurons plugged “Bad Company” into my head. Was this a reference to people coming into town to visit, or were they making a disparaging remark about my attitude? Hard to say with The Neurons. They jump out with a claim and then dance away before they can be questioned.

Over in the political quarter of my life, I read about Republican Rep. Mike Flood’s town hall meeting in Nebraska. Flood was there chatting about the disastrous bill that the Greedy Old Trump Party passed in the House last week. When called out about one provision, Flood admitted that he didn’t know the provision was in it because he hadn’t read the bill.

Republican Rep. Mike Flood appeared before his constituents in Nebraska on Tuesday for a town hall that turned ugly as he tried to defend President Donald Trump’s “big, beautiful bill,” the reconciliation package the House of Representatives passed last week, and which is expected to force millions of Americans off their health care coverage and food aid.

Unfortunately, Flood hadn’t actually read the bill. 

Flood could barely get through a sentence without facing boos and heckling from the audience. At one point, when asked about a provision in the GOP’s massive reconciliation package that would restrict the judiciary’s ability to hold government officials in contempt, Flood said he did not agree with the provision, before admitting that the “provision was unknown to me when I voted for that.”

That’s what we’re hearing time and again from Republicans in Congress: the classic but weak defense, “I didn’t know.” It’s especially weak when it’s their job to know. That’s why he was voted into office, wasn’t it? As their servant and representative? As seen across the nation during PINO Trump’s first four months in office in 2025, rising numbers of constituents are pissed that their representatives aren’t doing their jobs. Flood went on to claim that he’s taken an oath that he’ll defend the Constitution. As always, actions speak louder than words. With his inaction, he’s complicit in undermining the Constitution, our checks and balances, and the rule of law. Likewise, he’s part of the party gleefully tearing down the education system that helped the United States advance as it did last century. But as part of the Greedy Old Trump Party, he can’t see or admit what he’s doing.

Rep. Mike Flood is a DOGE Faithful and Trump lover. Back in March, his constituents called him out for DOGE’s cuts to research, Medicaid, and Medicare. Flood defended it by saying that cuts were needed because of the national debt. Back then, Flood said, “Ultimately, where we need to go is to a balanced budget. How can you be against a balanced budget?” This, before passing that bill that cut taxes for the wealthy. It all reeks of bullshit and hypocrisy, doesn’t it? The way they’re ‘governing’ is a crime.

Okay, out of lecture mode. Coffee has been embraced; into writing mode. Have the best day you can, and do things that make you hold your head up high. Cheers

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Sunda’s Theme Music

Another sun filled blue sky day cups Ashlandia. It’s a quiet one out there. Like it’s a holiday and everyone else has gone away. They don’t know about the 70 degrees F and sun-kissed wind toying with our hair in Ashlandia. Clouds are gathering and we’ll top off our temperatures at 75 plus F today.

Papi is loving this weather, prancing in and out of the house with his tail up. Whenever we go out back, he emerges from his sun nap to visit with us.

This, for the record, is May 25, 2025, part of the Memorial Day holiday weekend in the United States. As always, my wife and I compare our childhood Memorial Days. For her, it was Decoration Day. Her family would make the pilgrimage by car to the family’s graveyards. They had two, one for Mom’s family, and the other for Dad’s line. Both were born and raised in southern West Virginia and had a family line that went back several hundred years. The graveyard was cleaned up, if needed, and fresh flowers were put on the graves.

My family, in contrast, were relatively new, in some ways. Mom’s side came over on the Mayflower and kept moving west. She was born in Turin, Iowa in the 1930s. Her grandfather helped establish the town, and her mother was born in Turin in 1910. Dad’s father’s family came over in 1899, went to Pittsburgh, PA, and stayed. His mother’s family arrived in Pittsburgh a little bit later and also stayed.

Memorial Day for me, then, wasn’t and isn’t about graves, but about sports, family, and food. As I aged, it did become more about military service and sacrifice. Now it’s just my wife and I out here in Oregon. Her mobility and diet are limited, and Memorial Day has been relegated to just another spot on the calendar.

My theme music today relates to a conversation with my wife this morning. A friend highlighted a post for me on Facebook. I don’t go much on Facebook. My wife doesn’t have a FB account but uses mine to lurk, so she saw the post and told me about it. The post is about misunderstood song lyrics — mondegreens. One song was “Panama” by Van Halen. A popular mondegreen, unfamiliar to me, is that they’re singing “padded bra!” instead of “Panama!” Reading this to me, my wife sang the “padded bra!” part, cracking herself up. The Neurons immediately shipped the song into the morning mental music stream, where it shares time with my thoughts.

My wife and I were in the office this morning, each pursuing our computer agendas. Suddenly she bursts, “There’s a FEMA carveout for Trump’s residences in the bill that was just passed.” She was livid. “Trump doesn’t send FEMA to help anyone any more but if one of his places are hit, he’s taken care of. This is ridiculous! This is disgusting! He’s supposed to be the servant of the people, not the other way around. When will those idiots wake up?”

A few minutes later and she launched into Trump’s latest crypto scam, piling on about how he’s using the presidency to enrich herself. I commiserate but don’t otherwise respond. I don’t want to go down the rabbit hole of how Trump and the Greedy Ol’ Trump Party is enshittifying the United States. I’m taking the day off from it.

Hope you have the best day you can. I’m gonna try to do the same. Coffee is at hand. And away we go.

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Saturda’s Theme Music

Mid-morning, it’s 60 F today, Saturda, May 24, 2025, in Ashlandia. The sky is summer blue. 84 F is projected as our plateau. My neighbor is out working on a project involving cars, trailers, campers, and motorcycles. That’s who he is. He’s often away, but when he’s home, people frequently arrive to bring things or take them away. He’s a gregarious man with a carrying voice, and will do whatever he can to help people.

Papi was out early and quick, enjoying the weather. Watching him through a window, I saw him hunting. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Papi in hunting cat mode. In tall grass back in the yard, not far from the fence and some bushes, he was hardwired into something going on at his feet. I opened the door and stepped out to check the weather. He gave me one fast look and returned to his activity. I don’t know what his prey was. A little later, he came in for his second breakfast.

I read that the Trump Regime is gutting the Space Force. Wasn’t he the one who created that?

But that’s Trump and subsequently, the United States under Trump, tottering around with little focus, babbling something one day and then on to something else with a toddler’s ambition but less curiosity. His only constants are that he’s hired a cabinet full of reality-displaced people willing to prop him up and lie like and for him, and his golfing and bragging. It’s not a good way to run a nation, as people might find out, when they wake up and climb out from under their rocks and prejudices.

Trump also signed an EO to hasten the building of nuclear powerplants. Because when you’re dealing with a deadly force that has the potential to kill and sicken millions, building fast is very important. Given the Trump Regime’s tendency to be hasty, mistake-prone underthinkers, I’m not looking forward to that result.

Trump has also signed EO to cut down the national parks and forests. Like, who needs trees when we need to build? Look at all that land that they can use for homes and buildings! That there is no infrastructure to support all their feverish dreams of all those homes and buildings never entered their thinking. Nor did the impact to the environment when all those trees are removed. Historically, we know what happens to air quality, soil erosion, and flooding when trees are removed in great quantities and the topography is drastically changed. But the Trump Regime proudly shuns history and knowledge, and too much of the nation follow him like lemings, little Trump-faced orange lemmings in red MAGA hats, marching right over a cliff.

Oh, yeah, and then there’s a real knee slapper in the news: Trump is blaming former President Obama for leaking secrets to Russia. Sure, I believe that *snark*. It’s more likely that Trump is trying to distract us with verbal sleight of hand while more illegal shit gets underway and another disaster is uncovered. He’s using Mr. Obama because Mr. Biden is now suffering from an aggressive cancer. While Trump cares less about that, he’s a sharp con man and knows that people have sympathy for Mr. Biden.

In honor of Trump, Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation, and the MAGA lemmings, The Neurons have channeled Molly Hatchet’s 1979 southern rocker, “Flirtin’ with Disaster”, into the morning mental music stream. All of the original members of Molly Hatchet have passed on. Kind of sobering, as all were younger than me. Thinking about that is one of those ‘knock on wood’ moments.

Some sample lyrics, from lyrics.com, for your perusal.

We're flirtin' with disaster,
Ya'll know what I mean
And the way we run our lives,
It makes no sense to me
I don't know about yourself or what you want to be, yeah
When we gamble with our time,
We choose our destiny

I'm travelin' down that lonesome road
Feel like I'm dragging a heavy load
Yeah I've tried to turn my head away,
Feels about the same most every day

You know what I'm talking about, baby

Here we go, into the day once again. Rock on. Cheers

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Frida’s Theme Music

I’m still riding a good mood. Knock on wood, right? Well, depends on your age and beliefs, I guess. I was speaking with someone the other day who claimed that ‘knocking on wood’ was to summon good spirits. I always heard/slash read it was the opposite: to scare off evil spirits or to avoid tempting fate.

Today is Frida, May 23, 2025. Sunny in Ashlandia, we’re anticipating a warm stretch. It’s not going to be a steady rise. Today will be 75, tomorrow will be 82 F, and then it drops a little again before rising into the nineties by Wenzda. Clouds lurk like spectators at a crime scene but blue sky and sunshine are on the main stage.

Per usual in Trumpland, the news is a blender full of good and bad news. Supreme Court rulings, miscarriage of justice, vindictive DOJ action on Trump’s behalf, redistribution of wealth to the wealthy at everyone else’s expense catch most of my attention. I was intrigued to see how expensive beef is becoming. I don’t eat much beef so prices have skyrocketed without me noticing. Lot of it is driven by Texas beef and the cost of feed. The cost of feed has increased because of drought. Don’t worry; Trump will be all over this, as he’s a big advocate of addressing climate change. Yes, that’s snark. We know Trump will try to blame former President Joe Biden and the Democrats for it. I’ll just shake my head and move on until the rest catchup. With tariffs on beef from multiple countries, beef prices are set to increase more.

Today’s music is related to a dream. I was in the kitchen, chatting with Papi, aka butter butt, about his brekkie when dream snippets floated in on my brain waves. As more dream made its way into memory, I recalled an individual in the dream telling me, “Don’t forget me when I’m gone. I won’t forget you.” It’d been a touching dream scene.

The Neurons were on that like Trump jumping on a woman. “Don’t Forget Me (When I’m Gone)” was soon playing in my morning mental music stream. I had no idea what year it came out or who performed it. The net helped me learn that it was 1986 and a Canadian group called Glass Tiger.

Alright. Got my coffee at the coffee shop. Sunshine is warming the outside world, and shadows grow shorter and sharper as we move into the afternoon. It’s Memorial Day weekend and vehicle traffic in Ashland has jumped. Hope you have an awesome day. Cheers

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Twosda’s Theme Music

This is Twosda, May 20, 2025. Weather here is more of the same. 53 F now, with moderate to light clouds rolling through, going up to 70 F today. No rain expected, but it’s breezy. Sunshine has lifted us to 64 F. Papi is out there, asnooze is his favorite shelter, hidden from casual scrutiny but sufficiently exposed that he can enjoy the weather.

Mom’s tale from Pittsburgh is unsettling. Today she didn’t get out of bed. She told my sister she couldn’t walk due to her sciatica. Sis, being a physical therapist, provided Mom with exercises to alleviate the sciatica. Mom was doing them when sis left.

One, so glad that sister is there, that she’s strong and intelligent. She of the three sisters in the area has been doing the heavy lifting with Mom. She’s not the oldest or youngest child. And she bridles at many of the things she endured while she grew up. But she’s stood up again and again to take care of Mom. She’s also married to a man who is in construction. Thanks to him, things have been organized and accomplished fast. I’m so grateful to both.

Mom told sis today that Mom thinks she needs a wheelchair. My heart fell like a sinkhole when I read that text. Mom was pretty athletic and loved to dance, and loved her independence. It’s all eroding from her. Her house isn’t conducive to a wheelchair, either.

Fortunately, a little serendepity paid off. My BIL’s customer had just offered him an almost new wheelchair. As soon as Mom said that, sis texted her husband. Two hours later, Mom had a wheelchair. Mom declared it perfect.

All the fallen trees at Mom’s have been cut up, collected, piled up and offered to the world free of charge. People have been driving over and picking it up. Sis was behind that, too.

Here’s photos from Mom’s house in Pittsburgh, PA, May 19, 2025. Top set are after the wood has been cut and picked up. The windstorm was April 29, 2025.

Today’s song is Trump inspired. “Behind Blue Eyes” is a 1971 release by The Who. The Neurons brought it up as I read things that Trump said and did. I was thinking, “What is going on in that head of his?” I don’t think anyone knows. One example came via MSN and the Irish Star today.

Donald Trump dementia fears as ‘brain misfires’ in worrying Oval Office announcement

As Donald Trump and Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth announced that they were financing a $175 billion project to build a missile defense system, the U.S. President’s word choices sparked new dementia fears.

After announcing the plan to build a $175 billion ‘Golden Dome’ to press in the White House’s Oval Office on Thursday, Trump directed everyone to look at the portraits around his desk. He named the first two Presidents no problem, but then began to stutter when he got to Monroe.

After announcing the plan to build a $175 billion ‘Golden Dome’ to press in the White House’s Oval Office on Thursday, Trump directed everyone to look at the portraits around his desk. He named the first two Presidents no problem, but then began to stutter when he got to Monroe.

This is just one recent example from what happened in public. What’s going on in private?

I think it’s a mess privately. As the Trump Regime loves to project, and their early reaction to news of President Biden’s cancer was to quickly propose, “Was there a coverup,” I think there’s a big coverup going on in the Trump White House.

Here’s the opening verse and first chorus.

[Verse 1]
No one knows what it’s like
To be the bad man, to be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
No one knows what it’s like
To be hated, to be fated
To telling only lies

[Chorus]
But my dreams, they aren’t as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance that’s never free

h/t to Genius.com

These lyrics seem to perfectly capture Trump: he seems fated to telling only lies.

Well, writing is done, coffee is done, lunch is over. Time to change clothes and get out there and do something in the yard. Don’t yet know what. Have a satisfying Twosda. Cheers

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