Archive for the 'Humanity' Category


KVOA, Roadrunners, and Marines, oh my!

I flipped on KVOA, local news at 5 a.m. on Thursday morning, restless from waiting for results to see if WHEN I SING  wins our first film festival for People’s Choice…when another contest arose. KVOA announced they were giving away 4 free tickets to a Roadrunners hockey game saluting the military, to the person who leaves the most “creative” reason why they should be the recipient, directly after showing a clip of the latest nasty snow storm in New England.  The contest took place on KVOA facebook page.

I was the first to comment the following:

“I just watched your footage this morning, of Massachusetts, where I’m from. I have to admit I was laughing out loud, as I sit here in the warmth of the old pueblo where I live now, and know that my brother is chipping ice off of his windshield, freezing his butt off. The least I can do for him is be close to ice – while watching The Roadrunners, and saluting the military at the same time. As we say it Mass – that would be WICKED AWESOME!”

Then I thought nothing of it, and finally fell asleep.


Last night at 10pm, I got a call from my Dad.  “Linda! They said your name of the News and read your comment, and….you won!”


We had a good laugh, and I shared the story with my brother, in fact, freezing his ass off in Massachusetts. (I refrained from using ass in my comment on KVOA. I was on my best behavior.)

For curiosity sake, I went to the comment section, to read my “competition”, and there was one comment that stuck out, from a Lisa Vavages.

“He enlisted into the United States Marine Corps, April 28 he turns 18, May 24 he graduates from Desert View High School, July 30 he leaves for boot camp…13 weeks away from home he’ll be transformed into a United States Marine. Who is he? He is my only son, with what few months we have remaining and all the hard work he’s put in,, he deserves to go see the Roadrunners!”

Awww.  I want her to go with her son, I thought. So I sent her a facebook message, and commented on the post as well, saying, please let me take you and your son to the game with us. And then I left her a private message…and then sent a friend request, to make sure she would get it.

She wrote back, and said her son and daughter would be delighted to join. I thought, “wahhhh, I thought she would go with her son.” So I asked her why she wasn’t going, and she said she was a single mom, and had another daughter, and couldn’t leave her alone at home.

Single moms are some of the biggest heroes on the planet, as far as I am concerned. So here’s my dilemma. I was feeling all warm and fuzzy, giving her two of the tickets, and now I wanted all three of them to go, but I still kinda wanted to go with my hubby, even though I am not really a huge hockey fan.  I’ve been to one Bruins game, and it was cool, but I prefer baseball and football. (I wonder if it’s cold in the rink? I hate the cold!) Maybe I should just give them all of the tickets.  But…ooh! What if I could get a 5th ticket somehow!?

I called KVOA to find out the section we were in, and then called The Roadrunners organization, and explained the story.  They were kind enough to GIVE me another ticket right next to the four I had won! How nice was that?

Lisa and her kids met up with us at the game, They are a lovely family,  and we had a blast. (And I was prepared with several layers of clothing.) Wishing her son Gage, a safe journey in bootcamp, and becoming a U.S. Marine.  Having him at The Roadrunners hockey game, saluting the military, surely was a good omen.  And we won the game in overtime!


(And our photo was shown on the Jumbotron!)



Cancer. Treatment. Hospice. Family. Love. Death.

The objective of this true accounting of events that just took place with my mother, who died on December 1st, 2014, is to share with those who have experienced this grueling journey, so not to feel alone; and for those who will have to, perhaps learn from our confusion. May you have the strength and love of family to get through it.

PART I – Cancer

As we removed Mom’s belongings from her bedroom, with intermittent breaks for sobbing, and a few laughs believe it or not, as certain items of clothing cued fond memories, I flashed back to the beginning of this fucking nightmare that is cancer.

Two years ago, after Superstorm Sandy, I drove with Scott cross-country from the Jersey Shore to the desert. We were making the move to be closer to my parents. I figured, a couple of years down the line, they might need a hand. I drove white knuckled, at 50 miles per hour, as the load in my truck was four thousand pounds over.  After arriving with no mishaps, my father gave me the news.

“Mom has cancer.”

Immediately, the room closed in on me, and I felt the sound one might experience in an isolation tank. A deafening silence.

Not my mom! Not our family! This can’t be.

The load in the truck suddenly became a feather.

She had a tumor the size of a grapefruit in her chest. Stage 4B.

The morning of the surgery to have it removed, Dad, Scott and I were in the waiting room. The doctor thought he could get it all. This was a rare form of cancer that we were told doesn’t spread. “Thymoma”.

The surgeon came out and said we got it all…almost.

95%. The rest had latched it’s greedy tenticals onto her lungs and heart. But a dab of radiation should do the trick!

As she remained in the hospital for a couple of days, post surgery, I ran to Costco to get mom her favorite…cheesecake.

I’m in the line, bawling my eyes out. Freaking out. Is my mom going to make it?

They put Humpty Dumpty back together again, and she came home.

The first radiation series got the last 5%!!

Not so fast….

A couple of months later.

The cancer has spread. But just a few cells. A little dab of chemo ought to get rid of it.

But I thought this cancer didn’t spread???!!!

Well, it did.

After chemo, naturally, Mom lost her hair, but the chemo did not make her nauseous. But then there are the painful shots one most endure to help the blood cells, or something like that. Sure, chemo kills the cancer, but it also kills everything else. You would think there was a better way by now, since the methods of the seventies.

Okay. Tumor removed? Check.

Radiation? Check.

Chemo? Check.

Two months later…

Well, it seems just a little more has shown up, and another series of radiation is prescribed.

Mom is zapped and burned, again.

While in treatment, she told me she visualized a fazer, like in Star Trek, (Mom was a Trekkie), and she was aiming it at the Klingon cells attacking her body, and zapping the bastards to another galaxy, far, far, away.

Well, not far enough. The fuckers came back again…months later.

More radiation.

I watched as my mom became weaker, but she was still optimist. And she was excited to now fit in the same size she wore as a young woman. We went shopping to get new digs. And she was still strong enough to go out for lunch, and enjoy the food.

Meanwhile, she has had major back issues for decades.  She is in no condition to have elective surgery. So what can she do? Take painkillers.

After this trapezoidal square dance with cancer had been going on for 18 months, it was taking a toll on her overall energy. She could barely walk a block without being exhausted. Her appetite was like a bird.

We had a beautiful family reunion in Oregon this summer. The last time mom would be able to get on an airplane.

The next radiation treatment was on her femur, in August. Another tumor.

September. I decide to go to all of Mom’s doctor appointments to find out what the fuck is really going on. Mom tended to sugar coat each new dilemma. When her prescribed radiation treatment was for 3 weeks, she said it was 2. When the cancer had spread to 2 places, she said it was only one spot. She was trying to protect us. Such a motherly thing to do.

I asked lots of questions. Direct questions.

I love my parents dearly, and they are highly intelligent. We are talking genius level.  But they tended not to question the authority of doctors and the system. I, on the other hand, do.

I do think cancer is a money making racquet. If it ain’t broke to them, don’t fix them. The more Humpty Dumptys the better. Cha-ching.

While meeting with the Oncologist, I asked:

Q: So, is the only answer to addressing the cancer as it spreads, more chemo? More radiation? Just killing everything, pumping her with poison, so she gets weaker and weaker? That’s it? No alternatives?

A: That’s it.

Q: What about alternative medicine? Like marijuana? We would like to get a note from you so Mom can get her card.

A: My partners have not agreed to it, so I cannot write you the note.

Q: Are you serious? In the 21st century, your firm is that conservative, that backward?

A: Although I feel it is okay, some do not.

I roll my eyeballs, disgusted, and have no further questions.

The next day we go to the radiologist.

Q: So how much time does my mother have?

A: I don’t know.

Q: Are you just going to keep doing the same thing, as it spreads, over and over again?!

A: Yes.

Q: Won’t that just break her down more? What will happen to her?

A: Eventually, your mom will get pneumonia, and will die from it. Well, it won’t actually be the pneumonia, it will be the cancer. The cancer will affect her immune system, so it will not be able to fight off the pneumonia.

FINALLY. A straight answer.

Time to investigate alternative medicine. But is it too late? With all of these “treatments” does she have enough strength to turn this thing around?

First of all, marijuana seemed to be a priority to help with pain, appetite, and anticarcinogenic qualities. My sister, Deborah had to make several phone calls, and found a Naturopath in town.  We went the day after the Radiologist appointment to the clinic. With my mom in her weak state, I dragged her to the weed store….but not before we went to pick up her shiny new first walker.

I tried to encourage her to walk 40 feet from the parking space to the entrance, rather than dropping her off up front, as long as it didn’t hurt. In the meantime, one of her other doctors said, because of the last radiation treatment to her femur, the bone is brittle, and she should have a rod put in, just in case it should, and most likely will break.

The weed store provided us with the name of a doctor who would write her the prescription to be able to buy the marijuana products in her store. Of course there was a wait for this appointment.

I made no plans to travel anywhere more than 100 miles away. I had to be there for mom….and dad. Dad took her the following week, to weed Doc. Got scrip. Now wait for the card from the government, before she can actually get what she needs.

Next appointment? The pre-op, before the rod was to be put in.

Next day…your mother’s blood test came back. She is now anemic. It is too risky to do the surgery right now. We shall postpone.

Blood transfusion time. Sticking mom again.

But the good news is that she had a port surgically put into her chest before the chemo. What’s that, you might ask? It’s a gizmo that allows intervenes liquids to go into one’s body, without the use of a needle into the veins each time. But not every nurse or doctor knows how to use one, so sometimes they stick you anyway. And my mom’s veins are so small, that becomes a major task, and my beloved mother becomes a human pin cushion; black and blue for days.

Mom’s blood count becomes normal…for now.  She is sent home. What’s next?



Last night I watched Michael Moore’s “Farenheit 9/11” for the second time. The only advantage of getting older is that I forget many details of films, so I can almost enjoy it like the first viewing. Well, I wouldn’t say I enjoyed this film. And I do remember not enjoying it the first time. It was very upsetting.

After a sleepless night, I decided to do a little research and fact checking as much as is available. According to the Chicago Tribune,, the facts are pretty accurate.

According to a report by David Kopel, whom I mistook for Ted Koppel, this morning…(another sign of aging), thinking it was valid, wasting my time, as he shows some alleged deceits in the film.

I proceeded to read many more Moore dissecting fact reviews. Even FOX! Sure, Michael took a few dramatic liberties, but the FACTS about the reasons we went to war in Iraq, being based on lies, cannot be disputed.

The fact that we were attacked after being warned, cannot be disputed.

The fact that Halliburton profiting greatly by war, and having a major connection to Dick Cheney, cannot be disputed.

The fact that there were no weapons of mass distraction, yet the Bush Administration stated they had 100% proof that Iraq had them, cannot be disputed.

The fact that many innocent people, children, women, men, were “the price of war,” cannot be disputed.

The footage of the carnage in the film cannot be disputed.

I had to cover my eyes, but too late. I broke down and cried during the film. Little children with their faces being stitched up, screaming. Dead children in the back of a truck. Dead soldiers scorched and displayed. Showing a beheading from a far.


I was angry. Angry at the Bush Administration. Yes, I do not trust what their intentions were. For that matter, I do not trust The Obama Administration for remaining at war. Last night I posted on Facebook “I’m watching “Farenheit 9/11. Haven’t seen it since it opened. I am crying. Bush Administration was pure evil and greed.” And of course that caused the Conservatives to chime in and call bullshit on the film.

The bottom no bullshit line is, we had no reason to attack Iraq. Yet we did. Ya know, I actually don’t like using the word, “we”. We, the people, didn’t decide to attack, the President and his cronies did. Why don’t we the people get a vote when it comes to going to war?

And to clarify, I love my country. I hate war. I support our soldiers coming home safely, and wish them no harm. But I also wish no harm to innocent bystanders in any part of the world.

I am disgusted with the latest horrifying beheading of an American journalist, James Foley, at the hand of ISIS. I cannot bring myself to watch the film. My heart goes out to his family.

My heart also goes out to all of those suffering in Iraq, and Africa, and wherever. And closer to home, the victims and families of 9/11.

Everly life and death is of equal value. (Accept for Bin Ladin, Hitler, Pol Pot, Idi Amin, and anyone who dropped THE BOMB on innocent people. hehem.)

What bothers me, is that I think many Americans generalize the deaths in other countries. “Price of War”…”Nuke ’em”.

And if some country came over here and bombed us, killing our relatives, we’d be pretty pissed. Oh yeah, that did happen, but it wasn’t a country, it was a few individual assholes. It wasn’t Iraq. It wasn’t Afghanistan. It wasn’t Saudi Arabia, although the majority of the hijackers were Saudis.

And now the newest assholes are ISIS. Ironically, allegedly trained by the U.S. Government! (Speaking of assholes), WHAT THE FUCK?

What do we do? This country loves war. But I don’t. And I know lots of other folks that don’t. Can’t we just take out the assholes?

And although a lot of people think Michael Moore is an asshole, I would like to invite him to be a member of my very own little, non-violent organization, IBIS. (Integrity, Balls, and Intelligence Society.) I think he is a brave motherfucker. I just read his book, “Here Comes Trouble”. Did you know that he had numerous death threats after he made his acceptance speech at the Oscars for “Bowling for Columbine?” He made the dreadful mistake of saying, “Shame on you Mr. Bush.”

After seeing Fahrenheit 9/11 again, having insomnia as a result of watching, and fact checking, as best I could, I can’t disagree with Michael Moore’s statement. And I hope our country figures out a way to take out these monsters in Iraq, without harming the innocent people of Iraq, and our troops.

But what is more impossible to ask? What the fuck is the real story?




MONSANTO, “Killing us Softly” with their poison. Boycott the scumbags.

Today is the first day to my healthier life. GMO’s have scared the crap out of me, now that I know more. The problem is, most of us do not. We don’t understand how the shit Monsanto is putting in OUR food is “killing us softly”. But they do. And they profit.

And so does our government, yet they don’t seem motivated to do a fucking thing about it. Perhaps some do, but those with louder wallets, are able to hush the harsh reality.

Bottom line:  Below are the companies that use Monsanto GMO products. I will no longer use their products, although it will be difficult to give up some of my favorite addictions. (Like Kellogg Frosted Flakes) Sorry Tony. We’ve had some wonderful times, but you’re not so Grrrrrreat anymore. Me and my banana will miss you, terribly. They put shit on your tank.


The list reproduced above purportedly details a wealth of food-related companies or brands supposedly owned by Monsanto, the multinational agricultural biotechnology corporation. In fact, Monsanto doesn’t own the listed companies; this item appears to be an attempt to compile a list of companies selling food items that make use of products developed by Monsanto (such as artificial sweeteners or agricultural products derived from genetically engineered seed). 





Yikes! That’s just about everything in my pantry. Spring cleaning. What really sucks is that avoiding these companies’ products will cost a shitload of money in groceries. They attract us with “deals”. Sugar Pops for $1.99? I slay that special. Buy them by the six-pack. One of my favorite go-to snacks on the couch is my beloved cereal from the box. I even put it in one of my albums!! No kidding!

Lyrics to "Living Alone": "Eating Cereal from a box without a care."

Lyrics to “Living Alone”:
“Eating Cereal from a box without a care.”


That’s right. It’s even in my lyrics to the song I broke the top 40 with, 14 years ago, when cereal was cereal! On my “Racing with Reality” CD. Above is a page from the insert.

How ironic are my lyrics?  Eating cereal from a box without a care….?!!

I care now. I have to. Everything has changed. (Like that huge TV I am watching. No flat screen? Just flat boobs.)

In that particular photo, I am eating Golden Grahams. My fav! (I’m hanging my head for a moment of silence, as I give them up.)

Damn you Koch Brothers! (Imagine me saying that like Charlton Heston did, when he discovered that “They finally did it”. (Planet of the Apes is one of my favorite all time movies that I can watch on my couch eating cereal. AHHHHHHH!)

"They finally did it. DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU TO HELL!"

“They finally did it. DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU TO HELL!”

But this will snap me out of my remorse:


These are actual rats that have been fed the corn they use in cereal chalked with 12 essential vitamins and minerals?  No. Choked with GMO’s that will give you fucking cancer.

Look at these poor animals!

The results of GMO's on RATS! (I know who the real rats are)

The results of GMO’s on RATS! (I know who the real rats are)


Anyway, how can we mere mortals have a voice against the evil empire of our country? We have to stick together. We have to be educated. (So please do share this?)

Right now in Washington, they are voting whether or not these scumbags need to even tell us what they are putting in the food they sell us!

And I bet they will get their way.


I am starting my own little revolution. I hope you join me. Let’s boycott the motherfuckers. Cash in your stock now, if you own any in the companies above. Stop buying from those companies. And I am sorry for all of those employed by the Evil Empire. Maybe if we force our “Corporations” to produce healthier food, the costs will go down at Whole Foods, where my eyeballs pop out of my head when the bill comes for a small bag of groceries. And you can get a job at a competitive healthy company.

This is no joke, folks. I wish it were. I want my cereal!

But I don’t want my Lucky Charms to have it’s newest marshmallow shaped like a tumor. They’re magically suspicious.

And that photo of Chuck might not be so far fetched for our future.



Washington is so fucking corrupt. It’s all about money, greed, and power. No one gives a shit about PEOPLE anymore! How do you all sleep at night? Oh, wait. I know. In your million thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, some wine you’ve been bribed with, and an endless supply of ambien from your favorite pharmaceutical lobbyist up your stinky ass.

What has set me off this morning? Besides waking up to discover I now have balls from eating too many unrevealed GMO’s? They are hanging from my clit! It’s crazy. (I searched google image, and couldn’t find any pictures. And I’m too shy to take photo of my own.)

But in addition to that, I received a petition to sign, to fight Monsanto’s right to NOT label products with GMO’s. I didn’t even know what the fuck a GMO was, until my enlightened, hippy nutritionist sister told me. I love my fucking Log Cabin syrup, and she gives me shit every time I use it!  The corn syrup used in it, is most likely made of modified corn used in experiment below with the rats. (Although I was brought up in New England, for some reason, my palate longs for Log Cabin, VS real Vermont Made Maple syrup.)

Here is the link to the petition from Credo:


Please feel free to sign it, although I don’t think it will do any good. I don’t trust shit in Washington, anymore.

Let’s look at the healthcare bill, although it provided many individuals with Medicaid, guess who it provided more to? THE FUCKING INSURANCE COMPANIES! Blue Cross Blue Shield licked Obama’s Blue Balls and all of Congress’s vaginas, to arrange this bullshit. I thought the objective was to bring down the cost of healthcare for Americans. To stop being raped by insurance companies with astronomical profits. Not jack up the cost for most people, resulting in insurance companies fucking us even more! I am very disappointed in Obama. There. I said it. Obama is about as liberal as Reagan.

And the Koch brothers and Monsanto are doing their best to make us sicker, so we have to go to the hospital. Why do you think so many people are getting cancer, and so little has been done about it?

MONEY. And they just laugh at people like us who care. They fucking laugh. They. don’t. give. a. shit.



So Representative Mike Pompeo’s number one contributor is…The Koch Brothers. He has brought a bill to the table that would allow companies to NOT disclose what they are doing to the food you put into your bodies. W.T.F?  Here is a link to a very well written article about Monsanto, without any fucks in it.

The results of GMO's on RATS! (I know who the real rats are)

The cancerous tumor results of GMO’s on RATS! (I know who the real rats are.) Poor little creatures. This made me ill.                                  (Maybe those aren’t balls hanging from my clit…maybe the are tumors?)

So who is Credo? Are they corrupt? Not from the research I have done: (Googled them – and Wiki’d their asses. I’m a regular Dickless Tracy)

CREDO History

Working Assets was established in 1985 in San Francisco as a business that would use its revenues to fund progressive social change work. Working Assets was founded to give people an easy way to make a difference in the world just by doing things they do every day. Each time their members use one of its services—mobile, long distance or credit card—they automatically send a donation to progressive nonprofit groups. To date they’ve raised more than $76 million for groups like Planned Parenthood, Rainforest Action Network and Oxfam America.

Well, that’s pretty cool. But raising 76 million? 76 Million is what the Koch brothers spend for their 1 Billion thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.

We cannot compete with the money these people have, and their influence over Washington.  (And I also, honestly, doubt many “non-profits”. Many of their CEO’s and top staff make BIG BUCKS.)

My shit list:




ALL PHARMACEUTICAL  COMPANIES  (The worst part is that it is so difficult to even spell the word pharmaceutical. Thank goodness for spell check.)

CORPORATIONS SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO CONTRIBUTE  TO WASHINGTON. PERIOD. Of course, who votes on those decisions? More corrupt motherfuckers in D.C. So, naturally, the bill to stop it, did not pass. And I’m sure Monsanto will get their way, too.

Everyone’s balls will be Genetically Modified Organisms. And those balls in Washington are too big to fail.

So here’s my official FUCK YOU of the day to….I don’t know. You pick. Too many to choose from.

But Koch Brothers can still suck mine.






Where’s the photo?  I didn’t get one.

A picture is worth a thousand words.  So it looks like I am stuck having to write.  Let’s just assume the first 800 words are FUCK ME! repeated 400 times.

Yeah, Yeah, I know it’s cool that I met Sir Paul McCartney today in the Hamptons, where I have been hanging this week.  “It’s cool” is an understatement.  For me, it was better than meeting God, if I actually believed in her.  The Beatles are my Religion.

Linda!  We know you better than that!  You would never pass up a photo opp!  What happened?

This afternoon, I biked with my friend to the beach.  We stopped and met up with another kind of girlfriend of mine. I don’t know her that well, but she’s a friend of a friend.  She proceeds to tell us that Paul McCartney is sitting on a picnic table around the corner.  And she had this amazing collage that she made for him, by total coincidence, with her.   She kinda knows him from the hood.  She was too timid to take it over to him, while he was enjoying his privacy with his fiancé and a few friends, including Lorne Michaels from SNL.

Naturally, I said, “I’ll go over there with you!  It’s an awesome gift.  I’m sure he won’t mind.”

My chance to meet one of the Beatles?  Are you kidding me?  I would have gone over there myself, and of course VERY POLITELY introduce myself and ask for a photo together, as long as he didn’t mind.  I wish that had been the case, actually.  Because I would have that photo.

Well, anyway, I convinced her to go for it.  But she said you can’t ask him for photos or anything.  I just want to give him the gift.

We walked the large collage down to the table.  He looked a little puzzled, and then the gift was unveiled.  It was beautiful.  He seemed to be very appreciative.  And I have to say, he looked absolutely amazing.  Very cute.  Up close.

So, I at least put my hand out and introduced myself.  At approximately 2:30 p.m. on August 24th, 2011, I shook Paul McCartney’s hand.

I said “I covered “I’m Only Sleeping” on my latest album.  I love that song!”  Then I added, “Will Lee, ya know Will Lee, from the Fab Faux, he played the bass on it!  He Said, “Yeah I know Will, cool.”  And that was it.

Will Lee and Linda

Will Lee (David Letterman band) and Linda at Sear Sound Recording Session for “Emotional Jukebox”

We walked away.  2 Minutes after, 75 yards away we just stood there.  I felt like Moses after talking to the burning bush.  None of us asked for a photo or an autograph.  The Artist said, “do you think I should go get a photo?”.  I said, “Yeah”  Why Not?  Well, it’s tacky…

“Why is that tacky?”  I would have taken that photo with me to the grave.  I was dying to have my photo with Paul!  DYING!

(Plus, it’s the least he could do.  I have made him money!  Royalties from the cut on my album!  He really needs that money!)

Because it was her connection, I reluctantly respected her wishes.  But I was pretty upset.  I’m actually crying now as I type this part.

So I proceeded to have a fucking melt down.  I bawled my eyes out for a while, and tried to shake it off.  I called Will to talk me down.  He didn’t answer, so I left him a message to call me!  The tears were still flowing.  I called my husband, the tears still running down my face.

First of all, I really hate anyone telling me what to do.  Secondly, I love the Beatles as much as anyone can.

I remember meeting Springsteen, and he was so gracious about taking a photo.  Sure, he ain’t no Sir, but he’s the Boss!

So, I figured Paul would be as cool.  And maybe he is, but today I didn’t get the chance to find out.

Instead, 3 hours later I went back to the picnic table and sniffed where he was sitting, and got a shot of that.

Sniff Sniff

MMM! Smells like chocolate!

Excuse me, my phone is ringing….it’s WILL!  Seriously!  (6:39 pm)

…20 minutes later.  He talked me down.  He understood my pain.  He prays to the same.  I feel a little better.

I get by with a little help from my friends.


Anti-idiot (My Gun Rant)

It’s not that I’m Anti-American. I’m Anti-Idiot.  It’s just that there are so many idiots in America. North America that is. Of course so many of the idiots still refer to our country as America, because they think the United States is the only planet.

And this planet on America, known as the United States, has spun out of control…and it is making my head spin! I am having to pay my shrink overtime to just vent my frustration within half of it’s population! Well, maybe within the 59 million and change who voted for Romney, verses the 62 Million plus who voted for Barack.

Now before I piss everyone off, I want to be fair. It’s an undetermined percentage of the 59 million, not all of them. But I guarantee that all this fuss about gun control is coming 100% from those within that party. I pledge to eat my arugula off of my hat if any of the stink is coming from democratic population. I’m not talking politicians. I’m talking the people.

I’ve been ranting quite obviously on facebook about my disgust and sadness since the Newtown shooting. And I am baffled at how many people, no matter what reason and logic is presented to them, will respond with the same old stupid fucking ignorant lame excuse: The 2nd Amendment. (Yeah, back when that was written, they used condoms made of animal skins, and people died from syphilis.) It’s anything but gun control for them. What the fuck?! I went as far as asking those opposed to Obama’s proposal to identify if any of them were democrats. I heard crickets.

These are the idiots I am referring to.

My main topic with my shrink is control. When I can’t control something that is so obviously wrong I internally blow a circuit. And speaking of blowing, I sure wish I was back in my good old days, when all I thought about was sex. Now all I think about is how fucked we all are!

The dialogue in my head goes from, how can these idiots keep believing the bullshit they hear on television? Why do these idiots on television have a platform, and a right to lie? Oh yeah, because they are being funded by the Giant Rich Evil Idiots.

The Giant Rich Evil Idiots have control over the world! They are poisoning our food, water, air…and some minds. Cancer is showing up way too often. And they get away with it! Why? Why are laws changed with clauses that harm us? (Allowing chemicals to be put in the ground, allowing gun manufacturers to get away with murder.) Allowing idiots like Terry Jones to have a voice in the media. Answer: $$$.

And speaking of media and idiots, I give myself idiot for a day award, yesterday. I clicked on someone’s link to a survey on gun control. Naturally, I thought the objective was to support the Prez and his efforts. The questions were something like, “Do you agree there need to be stricter gun laws…do you believe the 2nd amendment is being compromised with the proposal…who did you vote for….”

I proudly supported the proposal with my answers and shared the link on facebook. Then I found out that this publication was run by the idiots! Oops! And now those idiots have my email address.

I am afraid to admit this tragic journey in my mind has gone so far, to fear on Monday, during the inauguration, some idiot will try to shoot the President. (And I hope I am wrong!)

My shrink suggested I get involved with some organization fighting the good fight. But I feel it would be like spinning my wheels for nothing, because the GREIT’s (Giant Rich Evil Idiots) will still find a way to win. (At least they lost the election.)

But after having to stomach the GREIT’s victories, I go from the stomach to my head and continue with how much evil there is. (Massacres, ethnic cleansing.) Then I think about more idiots who say that without evil, one could not know what good is, and so forth.

And speaking of idiots, the audacity of Mike Huckabee saying if God was in the Newtown school, (prayer, teachings), maybe this would not have happened. What? If there was a God, he would have used the all mighty power to stop the nut ball. If there is a God he is an idiot. (Yes, I am using “he”, because most violence comes from the male species. I am not anti-men, though. There are many, many great men. I’ve even married a few for good measure. (And we have our share of idiot women.) But if there was a God, and she was a she, the world would be better off. (You’d think I would have married one of them by now.)

And yes, it is not the guns alone that kill, it is guns in the hands of nut balls. (Most of which are men.)

But the idiots must grow up, (men and women), get some q-tips, buy better glasses, and actually listen to what Obama’s proposal entailed. Quite frankly, I found it quite mild. But it doesn’t matter what he says. The idiots have some sort of mechanism in their brain that translates, “We must address mental health, stricter screening before guns can be purchased, and we are not taking your guns away, only the assault weapons with more than 10 rounds of ammunition”, into, “Obama sucks, he is a Nazi, and he wants to take our guns.”


Now I don’t like resorting to name calling…I guess I’m a bit of a jerk….but I’m no idiot.


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Linda Chorney

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December 2018
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