“Orange you glad Trump might finally be impeached as dictator of this Banana Republic?”
I’m berry sorry, everyone. My joke might be a bit green still, but here’s hoping the currant hints of corruption while in office from Cohen’s testimony do eventually ripen and bear fruit. Trump is definitely rotten to the core.
And on that grape thought….sweet dreams everybody! 😉
Did I ever mention that my Partner and I are weird people? Like “gallows humor” and “eat anything on the planet at least once” weird? Or that we’re advocates for social justice? If not, you have officially been warned.
I may have mentioned before about how my kitty has PTSD from being abused, starved and abandoned before we got her. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that she also has kidney issues, old injuries that limit her mobility, and even more allergies than I do. If the abandonment anxiety alone wasn’t enough to prove she is my spirit animal, then the rest ought to guarantee it.
We suspect that her complicated medical issues might, unfortunately, have been the reason she was ultimately abused and abandoned. I mean, we’ve seen it done to vulnerable humans. It’s not much of a stretch of the imagination to assume it happens even more frequently to vulnerable kitties.
We didn’t know about her issues when I first started fostering her. I was just told to shove as much food and liquid into her as possible. She was too sick to eat, so anything I could tempt her with was automatically approved. I fell back onto gold-standard kitty addictions: tuna water and Fancy Feast. She ate both with gusto, and my Partner and I both quickly realized never to combine cheap cat food and smelly tuna in her tummy again. Let’s just say what she produced was thick enough to mortar a bunker and lethal enough to weaponize to use to clear out the bad guys holed up in that bunker at the same time. She put my two-ply lullaby to shame.
Nothing says a “third date” like an emergency trip to the grocery store to buy every possible form of air freshener in the aisle at nearly midnight. I say she’s “our” foster failure. And, in her mind, she is. She met both of us on the same day. But, technically my Partner and I hadn’t even DTR’ed at the time I got her, and her adoption papers are under my name alone. She’s “our” cat in hindsight, but, at that time, I think my Partner really showed his character by helping clean up after her when he had no official responsibility towards her, or me. I don’t regret it. That experience didn’t require half the strength that actually marrying me and handling my caregiving responsibilities demand. Heck, by the standards of my life it was humorous. It even had an actual resolution, which is particularly unusual in my life. One veterinary specialist, some kitty Prozac, and a lifetime commitment to buying her expensive allergen-safe cat food later, and her tummy troubles cleared up. (However, if her special food ever goes off the market, please send gas masks. We’ll need them.)
That experience has become a running joke for the trajectory of our relationship – and spawned another running joke that our kitty eats better than we do. How many people can read right on the can that their pet’s food is safe for human consumption?
We also watch a lot of Food Network, and while we were dating my Partner dared me to make him a meal that “highlighted” her wet and dry food in the same dish, Chopped-style. If I could successfully fool him into going back for seconds, he’d fork over for a Michelin 3-star restaurant willingly. I never quite remembered to do it when he’d remind me. We’re now married, so any gourmet meal would be funded out of pooled money anyway now. But, the challenge has always stood. And, I’ve always had on my mental bucket list – at least I have every 6-9 months or so when something reminds me of it – to undertake it anyway.
It seems to be all the rage this year to carve jack o’ lanterns into angry Trump faces. I’m a little disturbed by this – as I see his face enough on t.v. to be bad for my mental health already – but mostly I’m amused. In a world of politicized media, satire – including satirical news shows – sometimes is the best way to patch together the truth in a world of alternative facts.
Mock away, those of you who have the artistic skills to gore Trump and the evil he stands for in gourd.
Just make sure you aren’t squashing any opportunities as you do. I fear too many would-be satirists are stopping merely at the obvious overlap in skin tone as the driving force for their mockery. There are so many additional overlaps between Trump and a jack o’ lantern that I feel the need to carve out a bit of mental space from all the horrible things going on in my life currently – and in the country in general – simply to illuminate at least the (so far):
Top Ten Ways Trumpkin is like a Pumpkin
Both Trump and a Jack o’ Lantern were forged by a bunch of tools.
Both Trump and a Jack o’ Lantern are hollow and gutless.
Yet, they both somehow manage to remain rigid and inflexible at the same time.
This is probably because both Trump and the Jack o’ Lantern are putting on a show to hide the emptiness inside.
Both Trump and a Jack o’ Lantern are hot-headed and flip their lids easily.
Speaking of “lids,” both are bald even though they are often disguised to look otherwise. (We aren’t fooled by those seedy cover-ups!)
Like Stingy Jack of lore, who inspired Jack o’ Lanterns themselves, Trump is so morally repugnant he’ll willingly deal with the devil himself…
But also like Stingy Jack, Trump’s arrogance far exceeds his intelligence. His attempts to swindle his nefarious foes inevitably only make him lose face instead.
Both Trump’s and the Jack o’ Lantern’s visages adorn far too many buildings without adding much in the way of aesthetic appeal.
Trump, like the Jack o’ Lantern, will be well past his time come November. I’d strongly suggest tossing him and all similarly themed accessories of his out as soon as possible (as soon as November 6th, where possible!)
Have some Halloween-themed Where’s Whoopsies since I lack the artistic talent to contribute a Trumpkin of my own. Also, have a baseball-themed Where’s Whoopsie since tonight might be the last game of the World Series. At the time I made this, these were the #1 teams in each division going into the playoffs. Obviously, I’m a little late in posting, but close enough! (Consider it trivia for those of you who like baseball to work out approximately what week this summer that I actually colored the baseball Where’s Whoopsie based on what team colors are represented.)
Need a recap of anything I’m talking about in any post? Check out the Glossary of Terms.