Archives for category: america

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It is no secret that I deeply despise the person most of you call President. That being said, when I heard about the March for Truth in Washington DC on Twitter a few months back, I decided I wanted to go.

My girls were all for it, more for the trip to DC than to stand up against our crooked disaster in chief. Hubby? He wasn’t thrilled. For the weeks leading up to the date of the protest, he tried to get me to attend ones closer to home…in Richmond or in Charlottesville, where we both work.

But there was something in me that felt the need to stand in the shadow of the White House and send a giant “Fuck You” to trump. It’s not as if we are that far from the Nation’s Capitol…just a few hours through the Virginia Countryside and then *gulp* up I-95. We can make the trip there and back in one day.

We decided to avoid the hassle of parking in the city, and opted to take the Metro train in from one of the commuter stations. This proved to be a big mistake. You see, both my husband and suffer from motion sickness, and this Metro train to DC was in by no means a smooth ride.

The train lurched and leaned and bobbed and weaved, it stopped and started and sped and slowed. It was a 45 minute ride from hell, where I had to sit with a cold water bottle pressed up against my neck or cheek or forehead, depending on how hard I was trying to keep my breakfast down.

When we finally arrived at the Smithsonian station I was so thankful, but fully aware of the fact that I still had to make that same trip back later in the day. But like Scarlett O’Hara says, “I won’t think about that today…I’ll think about that tomorrow” and we headed for the Washington Monument.

It was a beautiful day…blue skies, sunny, warm, but with enough of a breeze to make it bearable. The rally wasn’t to start for an hour or so, and we took that time to get closer to the white house, where I flipped trump the bird, followed by a trip to a food truck where my girls each ate a hot dog.

As the time for the rally to begin drew closer, more and people started to show up and gather in front of the stage, most with signs, flags and t-shirts. We had nothing. I didn’t want to have to carry a sign on the Metro train, possibly inviting trouble from a trumpling. All I had was “covfefe” printed on the back of my sing bag in black Sharpie. In the end I was sorry I didn’t have a sign.

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It was quite an experience…chanting, cheering, and booing with other Americans who are also disgraced by what is going on in our country…the lies, the evasion, the idiotic tweeting by the man child in charge, and all with the White House in clear view.

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After several speeches, the crowd moved to a spot on the grass right next to the Washington Monument, and formed our bodies to spell “Investigate trump.” My family and I make up the bottom part of the “R” in trump. Groups of photographers were raised up in a scissor lift to try and capture the image.

Unfortunately it wasn’t high enough…the letters are hard to make out. Oh well…the sentiment is there.

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After the rally we scarfed down a food truck lunch and poked around the Air & Space museum. But before long, hubby and my dogs were beginning to bark and we still had the long ride on the Metro to endure before we got to our car.

This Metro ride was far worse. There was a pack of very loud kids on the same car as us for most of the ride….the noise coupled with the sickening movements of the train were enough to swear me off the Metro forever.

I may head back up to DC for more rallies and marches in the future. Even though the event was on the small side, it felt good to feel like I was part of an attempt to speak out against all the crap being fed to us by this crooked administration. I was part of a group of like-minded folks who aren’t going to take trump’s bullshit lying down.

I just know that if I do head back…I’m driving all the way in. The Metro can go blow long and hard.

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It’s no secret that I hate Donald trump. I am patiently waiting for his impeachment, but I am guessing a major White House probe takes some time. So, in the meantime, here are a few things  I do to make me feel a wee bit better until trump is shown the back door to the White House, preferably in cuffs.

I refuse, flat out refuse to refer to him using the “P” word, other than to hashtag #NeverMyPresident. I’ll call him the Disaster in Chief, but never by the “P” word. He’s not worthy of it.

I have decided I will not use a capital letter in his name. He is not a proper person, so he is not entitled to a capital letter on his name. It’s silly, but I simply love doing it.

I refuse to fly the American flag. My husband was able to procure a few very large American flags from when he worked at a major entertainment venue. For years on national holidays we would drape one or more of these flags off our front deck.

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No comments about how it’s touching the ground. Hubby fixed it after he saw the photo.

But I refuse to do this while trump is still in office. I feel so unpatriotic about how things are going in Washington that I feel like flying this flag that I love would by hypocritical.

Ditto on singing the National Anthem. Thank goodness I never have to recite the Pledge of Allegiance because I don’t know if I could get through that one either.

Most days I pass a chalkboard wall near my office called the Freedom of Speech wall. And each time, if there is chalk and available space, I write #RESIST and “trump lies.”

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Many who see me writing it smile and nod once I’m done. So far I’ve never had anyone yell at me for it, but I see it erased or altered a lot. No biggie.

For a while some asshole was writing “THANKS ICE” on the wall. He’s entitled to his opinion, but not a day went by where it didn’t wind up saying “THANKS ICE CREAM” or “THANKS RICE” or “THANKS LICE” compliments of yours truly.

These are small, insignificant acts. My constant Twittering against trump, my Ides of trump postcards I mailed out, and the various other tactics I used to show my disrespect and displeasure towards the douchebag in the White House may be silly, but they make me feel so much better.

I may be petulantly persisting, but it’s a hell of a lot better than complacently complying.

#RESIST #PERSIST #NEVERMYPRESIDENT #IMPEACHtrump

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For years and years I was not a fan of Twitter. I just didn’t get it…throwing a thought out there for nobody to see. Me? I’m more of a Facebook gal…friends and comments and likes and sharing. I love the interactiveness of it. I had a Twitter account, I just rarely used it.

Until the election.

I quickly realized that posting my feelings about then candidate Donald Trump turned my Facebook page into a battlefield of opinions. I didn’t like that. I also didn’t like seeing other people’s crap about Hillary, so I stopped posting political things. And, after unfollowing the majority of my über vocal and misinformed Republican friends on FB, things got a lot better.

But I needed to vent somewhere.

So, I turned back to Twitter. There I could pretty much say whatever I wanted to. I only had 40 or so followers…who was there to offend? I voiced my outrage against Trump and my love of Hillary on a daily basis during the election.

I spent all three Presidential debates at the computer, Tweeting good points and bad, and reading what others had to say. It was very enlightening – maybe there WAS something to Twitter that I had previously overlooked.

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And then, numb, afraid and pissed off on November 9, I began my new relationship with Twitter. I began to follow like-minded Americans who refuse to swallow the Orange Kool-Aid. I am hash tagging and retweeting to anyone who will listen to my outrage against Trump’s lies and contradictions.

Twitter is my platform where I can stand up and scream, “THIS IS WRONG!” And I love it.

I’ll still post a few things here and there regarding our liar-elect on Facebook, but I mostly reserve those things for Twitter. Now I just need to get more than 46 followers….

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My husband and I used to LOVE watching the Celebrity Apprentice. The board room scenes were the best, because it was fascinating to see Donald Trump back someone in a corner and then go for the jugular. It was good TV.

But as the weeks go by, I am really starting to despise Donald Trump. He never answers a question. Never. He calls names. He gives no examples or proof to back up his claims or proposed programs.

I have been waiting patiently for the other clown shoe to drop – for him to do something so egregious to where few Americans would forgive him, and his bid for the Presidency would be mercifully over.

The problem is, that the wackier this guy gets, the more “Uhmericuns” are eating it up. After super Tuesday, I came to a conclusion. We have a lot of really stupid, gullible people in this country.

Trump is promising a lot and will most likely deliver little, just like any As Seen on TV Product. You know, I bought one of those products once…Tag Away. It promised to get rid of skin tags, yet after a month of use, there was no improvement whatsoever. I had saved my receipt, and wrote for a refund, which they gave me, stating that in rare instances, a person’s body chemistry may cause the product to be ineffective.

But at least I got my money back, unlike the poor souls who went to Trump University.

Remember, Trump loves the uneducated. Because he knows all he has to do is wave a flag, and wear a Make America Great Again hat, and talk about gun rights and sending back all those raping Mexicans and his followers will cheer and cheer… and then go home to eat a dump cake wrapped in a Snuggie.

I just don’t get how anyone can buy what he is peddling, and then I remember how popular Big Bass Billy Mouth was.

singing-fish-original And it begins to make sense.

 

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Earlier this week I was in a Facebook debate (fight) regarding gun control. It started like this.

A local woman posted on our neighborhood’s Facebook page that she had seen a man with a gun in his waistband head into our grocery store. She then said had she been inside shopping and seen that, she would have abandoned her cart and high-tailed it right out of the store.

You would not believe the shit storm this created.

Within minutes she had over 50 responses, ALL pro-gun, ALL pro-open carry, and many that were rude and condescending to her. Things like “move back up north,” and “grow a pair.” The negative responses were literally coming in every few seconds. So she deleted the post.

But she had already picked the scab. In light of all the mass shootings, most recently the one in Oregon, gun owners are feeling very protective about their right to bear arms. With the general public demanding stricter gun laws, they are beginning to quake in their boots a wee bit.

Before you know it, pro-gun meme’s were being posted on our community Facebook page, and I really tried not to get involved. I really tried. But one guy said in response to a plea for gun control, “welcome to the pussification of America.”

And there I was typing away.

How can anyone think of this country as “pussyfied” when we own more guns per person than any other country in the world. Unless I’m not reading the graph correctly, if Americans own 112 guns per 100 people, there must be families with a freakin’ arsenal of guns. So I called us a Rambo nation, and really pissed off one local woman.

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This woman, very proud of being a gun owner, was highly insulted that I referred to gun owners as Rambos…which I did not. No matter how I tried to explain that I was talking about America as a whole seeming very Rambo-ish vs. Pussyfied, she kept firing back at me…pardon the pun.

The she proudly posted that they had just bought their ten-year old daughter a AR 15-22, which I’ll admit I had to look up, as I know zip about guns. Does this look like a gun for a 10 year old girl?

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For the next 48 hours she posted a photo of her daughter shooting this rifle (in pink!) at least 3 times in different gun-related post. And I have to say, it really disturbed me. I don’t care how responsible you are, or how much gun safety you teach. The only time I think it’s reasonable for a 10 year old to be owning and operating a gun is if your dad is Rick Grimes and there are throngs of zombies chasing you.

But I never brought this up to her…I think she might have hunted me down if I had. This woman was so one-sided, so narrow-minded – she thinks gun control equates to one thing…taking all her guns away. She will not even consider the idea that maybe nobody needs to own 13 guns, as did the shooter in Oregon.

Won’t one or two do the trick?

I obviously don’t own a gun. I shot one once, in upstate New York. I missed the target, shooting the dirt 15 feet infront of me instead. My husband talked of buying a gun in the past, but I told him no way.

I’m not against guns. I just don’t get the attraction to them, much like how I don’t understand how anyone could eat shellfish. And it may be because people I see who do love guns seem a wee bit crazy to me – at least the ones around here do. How could you love something so much that you are blind to the fact that there is a serious problem with that very thing you love?

It’s sort of like being an alcoholic. You will do and say anything to justify you having that drink. Just like a lot of these pro-gun folks in my neck of the woods refuse to admit that there is a real problem in this country. Gun owners have had their way in the past and look what is happening. Gun control may not solve the problem at all, but jeez, can’t we at least try to see if it helps?

I just don’t get it.