Posts Tagged ‘politics’


So, someone sat on the Oval Office couch with her legs tucked under her ass.  Holy cow!  The way the liberals reacted, you’d think she’d worn her shoes while visiting the burning bush!  I’d hazard a guess that for the loudest critics, the Oval Office has become the burning bush.  These whiny-babies need to get over their candidate’s failed ascension to the holy Oval Office, and get on with their lives.  A couch is a couch, not an altar.


Seven hours after Donald Trump took his Oath of Office, and the world still hasn’t come to an end.

On Monday, a crew will be in my apartment, fixing the big crack in the floor that has allowed water to seep into the carpet twice this year.  So this weekend, I’ll be moving my living room into the dining room and bedrooms for a few days.  Seems moving furniture is the only real exercise I get anymore….

Just two more days until the world comes to an end.  Things are going to be interesting, for sure, after Donald Trump’s inauguration.

Today was Blue Apron day.  When I opened my door to go to work this morning, the Blue Apron box was already at my doorstep.  I’d completely forgotten — I haven’t yet eaten everything from the last box.  However, just about everything has been stewing in a crock pot since last night.  I cleaned out the fridge — using all the fresh veggies, chicken, catfish fillets and Cajun spices from Blue Apron, and a ham steak from my local deli.  Today when I stopped at home to check on it, I tried a little and found it mighty tasty!  Can’t wait to get home in a few minutes to really dig in.  I’ll have plenty of leftovers for lunches this week and some to freeze for another time.

I had no idea President Obama was giving his farewell speech.  Darn, I missed it….

And now folks are claiming Donald Trump was a Russian spy for five years?  The Left in this country has gone insane.



I haven’t blogged about my dreams lately, but if you like reading about them, you’re in for a real treat tonight (well, that’s a matter of opinion, I suppose).  I should have written better notes after the dreams, because I’ve forgotten the details of one.  All I have for notes is, “Evil Genius on Sub”.  One can only guess what that one was about….

In another dream, I’m in a buffet line at a hotel, getting ready to pig out.  And what do I do?  I load my plate up with salad, just like I do at Jerusalem Bakery in real life, most Sundays after church.  Only in the dream, I take only salad.  No plateful of meat.  How sad.

In the next dream, I’m a passenger in a mini-van, going to the driver’s house with her kids.  We are stuck in traffic on a little two-lane highway.  Cars are backed up from the gate at the county fair.  While we’re creeping along, we begin discussing the railroad museum on the side of the road — an old depot, some cars and locomotives.  A pair of tracks cross the highway, and as we’re crossing the tracks, I notice each track is different.  One is from regular train tracks and the other is from a streetcar line (now, in real life, I have no idea whether the tracks are different, but they were in the dream).  I mentioned it to the others in the mini-van, and woke up.

Then, I was a passenger in a mini-van again.  We were parked at a gas station.  My coworker, Diana, was talking to the passenger in the shotgun seat.  I didn’t hear what was said, but I opened my door and stood up on the threshold, so I was looking over the top of the car at Diana.  She looked at me, then walked away.  We, the mini-van occupants, climbed back in and drove to a place where the county was handing out used county-orange hoodies to homeless people, for charity.  One of the other guys walked over to the folks handing out hoodies, trying to hide his identity, as if he were ashamed to be getting one.  He hid his face with his hand until he came back to the mini-van.  I decided it was my turn, and walked over to the charitable county employees.  But I wasn’t ashamed.  I was having fun, as if it were a game.  Someone handed me a hoody splashed with paint, and the sleeves were cut off.  On my way back to the mini-van, I figured out what was going on.  We would be part of a protest at work.  The hoodies were props to wear, to give the impression we were nearly homeless because of our low wages.  Then I realized, Diana had been one of the organizers and it was her idea for us to get the hoodies.  After getting our hoodies, the group of us climbed into a bus.  There were big boxes in the back rows, and one person was sleeping in the back row, almost buried by the boxes.  there were mattresses in the aisle, and two of us flopped onto the one near the boxes.  I was pretending to fall asleep, but it wasn’t easy because an attractive woman protester flopped down near us.  My buddy and she began talking about the protest, but I woke up instead.

In my last dream, I stood in line at the cafeteria in a hospital, waiting for a burger and soda I’d ordered.  After getting the food, I scooted my tray along the rails that all cafeterias seem to have.  I stopped at the cashier.  I remember she said the burger and soda cost $11.  I remember thinking, what a racket!  A similar burger and soda would only cost $2 at McDonald’s (I remember thinking the same thing, buying food at the McDonald’s at Disney World — the McDonald’s back home would only charge….).  I talked to the cashier for a few minutes about politics, and how the way my friends and relatives felt about the government made me nervous.  I said they seem to equate our government with enemies like Iran and North Korea.  I told her if any issue could spark a civil war in this country, it would be the issue of gun control.  “Try to take away guns from the wrong person, and if his friends decided to band together instead of letting the ATF get their way with him, it could cascade, and we could soon have a rebellion.”  She agreed, and reminded my I owed her $11.  I counted out my money and gave it to her.  She went on break, and I carried my tray into the dining room.  And then I woke up….