What he is

The fears, phobia’s, insecurities and insincerities, Trump suffers are no longer a bad joke that was never funny in the first place. He suffers a vast amount of hate based on the fiction dancing and drifting through his mind. Because We The People, seem to have no right as to the physical or mental well being of those running for president, we then become a part of the folly and frenetic machinations of sick people. Somehow, the people in power justify that if he is president, we really are not privy to anything personal in his life. Trump or any president is no longer a Private Citizen, yet the American public is constantly reminded DO NOT TRESPASS. 

Trump is fearful that anything Obama will supersede his lack of ideas or ideals, so he demeans and demands that anything with the name Obama attached to it or any idea conceived by Obama be eradicated, eliminated. People may die, but Trump can not have them live under something as insulting to his ego as Obama Care.  Transgendered and for the matter the rest of the LGBQ community scare the shit out of Trump because they embrace their sexuality and don’t need to be reminded just how masculine or feminine they are or are not. Trump is so unsure of the definition of his own maleness he wants to punish those brave enough to state gender has no qualifications. He is frightened by women, his sense of being emasculated by a strong female is over powering, so he will continue to treat them as powerless chattel, try to be on the offense so no women can challenge his set of or lack of balls.

Trump actually avoids looking in the mirror afraid of his own reflection, so he hires and fires surrogates, individuals who's own shallow egos are on the edge of cracking. Tell me the following he demands, word for word say to me what I tell you to compliment me. He thinks that if a female is on his arm is a 10, then of course he is a 20.  He recites odes of self aggrandizement, thinking that if he says it loud or bold enough, then facts won’t matter just the words. Trump’s love is self and the one child, Ivanka who, sadly Trumps spoons for. Each new day we find his failures bulging giggly like a hernia ready to rupture. We scoff, we giggle, but we DO NOTHING at all to stop it. Trump is no longer that disruptive cough we have and avoid, he is that full blown malignant tumor in our lungs we tried to ignore, but suddenly it is smothering us, killing slowly but surely!  

A Norm, BUT why

Jeering Boy Scouts, admonishing Barack Obama. Cheering Police Officers, applauding more violence toward the public. And HE is still sitting in the White House…Senator Ted (The Prophet) Cruz and Representative Mo (The Idiot) Brooks lament the fact that sick people are just too costly to be concerned with. Representative Trey (On the Payroll) Gowdy insists he wants more investigation toward Hillary and intervenes by answering for Jared Kushner. Senator John Neely (I want to date Trump) Kennedy insists Trump is doing the work of Jesus…and the GOP is still the Majority Party in all of Congress.

One more Russian, this time living in the United States is suddenly murdered in a car wreck, this Russian having notes and tapes to share willingly with Mueller…Jared Kushner suddenly remembers millions in loans by Russian Banks owned by Russian Mafioso…Jeff (The Elf) Sessions recalls, after he lied on oath perhaps he did meet with some very low level Russians, who in fact were spies…But of course there was and is no collusion between anyone Trump and Vlad’s murderous, poisonous KGB,

More talk about genitalia but its considered coming from a passionate place…Ethics we are told makes it too difficult to hire advisors for Team Trump…Anything with the name or relationship to Obama will be either written out of law by an overbearing Executive Order, or an attempt by the puppets in the Congress to be deemed illegal not for merit but JUST because it has the name of reference to a man the GOP fear because of his competence and the color of his skin….All of this, and each and every day there is more, piling higher and higher attempting to become the Tower of Babel. And now we react, nope, stop reacting and just accept that THIS IS the new norm…all I can ask is fucking WHY!

The Passion of Sarah

Sarah HUCKABEE Sanders, as the late great Joan Rivers often times said, “Can We Talk”, perhaps what I mean however just between you and I, can we talk about the language your two bosses have used, and just how you as a Baptist Believer and Evangelical Crusader seem to have little to no concern about their language. Your Emperor told America he loves to grab women by the pussy, almost as if once they saw him they spread their legs saying come on in Donald…and you, well you went to work for him anyway, cause, he was just joking…your newest boss loves to talk big shit about male genitalia providing the press with an image of Steve Bannon sucking on his own cock…and you with your little girlish grimace as if the only foul odor was a teeny tiny fart drifting across your nose and you described the “Mooch’s” words  as “sometimes he’s a passionate guy”. WOW. So tell me Sarah HUCKABEE, when exactly HAD you sold your soul to the Devil, was it the day your daddy and Donald made the deal, support me HUCK, tell the Evangelicals Jesus came to your house and said Trump is DA MAN, and I will repay you by hiring your daughter…OR Sarah HUCKABEE Sanders, you never had a soul just snake oil causing through your veins?

Lets talk some more Sarah HUCKABEE Sanders, how did it feel to have a make over, so you could be a “PURTY GAL” representing one of the most insecure men on the planet and directly reporting to one of the sleaziest men in the world. The Mooch was most please with your new hairstyle and make up, why he even joked he wanted some hair spray and make up also. You even wear your white stand off pearls as if you were Harriet Nelson, or Barbara Billingsley back in those oppressive days the 50’s. Did Jesus come creeping into your bedroom, like he did with Mrs Ted Cruz, Michelle Bachmann, Sarah Palin and good ole Rick Perry, did he whisper as you slumbered, its good to work for an adulterer, its great to work for a liar, and the cream of the crop of goodness is that he prefers Vladimir Putin to any American. 

Your father, and please take this as a compliment, MIKE HUCKABEE, is one of the best grifters around. Why he can take an ounce of snake oil and make millions from it. He often times has stated, oh so humbly, that he is not a prophet (that is Ted Cruz’s job title) but that somehow (and love that pretentious dumbfounded look on his face as he is pick pocketing others people’s money) but gosh darn it Jesus just speaks to him. Your dad is vehemently opposed to same sex marriage…BUT could care less about a double adulterer, HUCK is sure the homosexuals take little boys and girls and molest them…BUT Trump lusting over Ivanka is okee-doe-key, did you dad just tell you HON, the best way to please Jesus is be the BEST hypocrite in the world! Oh, yeah, Sarah HUCKABEE Sanders, one more question while we are talking…and I am doubly sincere about understanding this…how do you use your same lips and mouth to kiss your husband, and pray to Jesus art the same time lying your ass off to cover up the deeds of one of the most despicable men in the world? What a fancied and now gussied up fraud you are!

if in time

If in time this TOO does pass (and for me right now that IF, IS a big concern), but if cooler heads prevail, smarter people become responsible and the fallacy which is the Evangelical Christian philosophy that as long as you hate certain minorities all is GOD and good in America exits, along with the Republican mantra less government is good government as long as the wealthy don’t pay taxes and the politicians do what ever they want…how will all of us answer the question of HOW did the Trump Nightmare happen, WHY did Fascism even feel it could take root in America, WHAT went wrong with democracy, and WHO did anything to try and stop the entire mess to begin with? 

When I read the history books of nations overrun by dictators, armies purging  freedoms and equality, I always wonder why the oppressed permitted themselves to become the sheep, the lemmings, the rats following a Pied Piper only to fall off a cliff. WHEN was the time to say enough, before there wasn’t ENOUGH time to stop the madness? COULD any of the devastation to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness ever ben stopped? COULD the self-serving politicians been diverted from their evil schemes? WAS it lack of motivation, a sense that just wait till tomorrow it will dissipate by the public? HOW COME, we all can spot disaster looming, but prefer to keep our heads in the sand?

WILL we be able to hold accountable the atrocious behavior or policy makers like McConnell, Chaffetz, Gowdy, Ryan, the lack of effort by Schumer, Durbin, to imitate any offense…WILL the bad guys like anyone Trump or Kushner EVER be held accountable…but an even sadder question is WHAT DID WE REALLY DO as our world was collapsing around us. If in time this too does pass, how do we become whole again…or don’t we EVER?

Liars Lying

The Maverick McCain, his BFF, Graham, the Southern Charmer, Kennedy oh and Ron Johnson the guy who the Russians hacked the Wisconsin election for all Senators of the Pre Meditated Murder GOP are doing their approach avoidance dance, thinking that they can keep on conning the public regarding their own death panels when it comes to Repealing, ONLY the Affordable Health Care Act (aka it has Obama’s name on it so who the fuck cares what we do to the American public we hate that black man). So now these idiots who all get to keep their own Socialized Health plans, are pretending that if the GOP House keep their word…THE GOP HOUSE (where Gowdy, Paul are on the Russian Oligarchs payroll) will promise to help repeal the bill placing for starters 16 million Americans either in the poor house or funeral home, and IMMEDIATELY (any more Brooklyn Bridges to sell) make changes for a better plan. The GOP house are the guys and gals who still believe the Earth is Flat, there is a Gay agenda to make all people homosexuals, women are chattel and god said so because he made Eve from Adam’s rib and oh yeah the Earth maybe at the most 5600 years old. So Johnny McCain, Little Lindsey Graham, Local Yokel Kennedy and rigged winner Johnson all feel as if their shit won’t stink when they send the death knell to millions because their cohorts in the House will come to the rescue.

A den of thieves each more of a scoundrel than the next…all trying to present their Communist Dictator a legislative victory in spite of what is good for their constituents, all lying, as they smile for the camera, pretending that any of them have the best interests of anyone but themselves on display. If they Repeal Obama Care and WE don’t take to the streets we deserve to be fucked, HARD!

Like a hobo

“Like a Hobo on a Ham Sandwich”, yep just like that, without any inkling as to what is or isn’t in the Republican Health Care Bill, Louisiana Senator John Neely Kennedy is mighty ready to vote. Why Hell, he knows Trump is making America Great Again…it don’t matter no how, if three fourths of his state, will not only die from environmental issues, poverty and now lack of affordable health care… nope that black man err we mean Obama was a socialist…don’t darn matter if the Communists are in control of the government, Putin is strong and wants Trump to be just as strong. Gosh, dang darn, Senator Kennedy with that adorable southern drawl is doing Amerika a favor, we need to be able to choose in this here nation..except of course ladies and their reproductive rights, those transgendered queers and of course the original queers the homosexuals…This man, Senator John Neely Kennedy of Louisiana without caring what is in the Republican Repeal and Replace Bill is voting for it cause Trump by God has ben chosen by God to be president. Not my words, Senator Kennedy has stated various times Trump is our savior. Do I hear an Amen for this idiot, who has the power to make people die!

HILLARY

McCain pretends he cares and gets a standing ovation for it. Caitlyn suddenly is offended and seeks her 15 minutes more of fame to say so. The Log Cabin Republicans are having hissy fits…Orrin Hatch suddenly hearts the T of the LGBTQ community. Scaramucci dresses up Sara Huckabee. Jeffy Sessions is beat up again, and cries give me more. Boy Scouts jeer the  past president but the Boy Scouts Of America CEO says MEH, why me worry, North Korea wants war, Little Jared is offended with the word collusion and Trump still makes his clothing NOT IN AMERICA…And still, somehow its Hillary’s fault.

Lets be clear Putin is the baddest ass of current history, he fears no one EXCEPT he feared HILLARY…Yep, he feared her so much he blackmailed Trump fed him a diet of ego pills, prostitutes who had to pee and promised his children they could rule islands of the world. Putin feared Hillary so much he hacked our elections…Putin feared Hillary so well he bribed Jill Stein to run against her…He feared Hillary so much, he palled around with a turtle named McConnell and for all of McConnell’s dirty work knighted him calling him Comrade McConnell. Putin was afraid of that little ole’ lady named HILLARY.

Not only did bad ass Putin fear HILLARY, the entire GOP did also…Little Jason Chaffetz and scrawny Trey Gowdy spent endless hours lying to the public, making up stories about how awful HILLARY was. Paul Ryan even removed his All American look to replace it with that Eddie Munster smirk. All of the candidates from the Prophet Cruz to the BS Libertarian Paul sited HILLARY as Public Enemy Number One. All of these big bad boys along with emasculated losers like Hannity, Limbaugh, Giuliani and FOX and Friends demanded HILLARY be jailed for every single crime in America. 

HILLARY was feared by the same men and women who have spit on the Constitution/drowned democracy/hate minorities/have premeditated murder in mind for health care/and think the planet is only 5600 years old and if Jesus’s dad built it he will protect it…Putin knew HILLARY would kick ass, but instead he proved how well Americans/greed/power can make an ass out of you and me.

My Speech

NOPE, sorry for all of the people out there in the Internet world, friends, family acquaintances, John McCain was no great spokesman, no hero, but a simple fraud of a man who had the ability to change the minds of those hypocrites who gave him a rousing standing ovation on the Senate floor. All John McCain did was lie, he was the most vocal of republicans anti anything Obama (that John is called Partisanship) McCain thought Obama was a coward unable to fight Putin, yet McCain has done nothing but pontificate in front of the camera regarding the Russian take over of Trump and company. McCain has socialized medicine and uses it as he deems necessary, no one gets to debate McCain’s health. So, STOP with the how brave of a man McCain was, STOP with the words that McCain is bipartisan. STOP already cause John McCain is a phony, he had the opportunity to make a difference, yet he choose to pretend to be an elder statesman and spoke bull shit.

If I was the speech writer fro McCain here is the speech I would write:

I have the scourge of Cancer, and I can come to the Senate floor and say thank goodness I have ObamaCare, as do we all. Because of the benefits ObamaCare affords me, I am able to join all of you and humbly cast my vote. Why should I, WE, be treated any different, regarding our health, welfare and pursuit if happiness then our constituents? Thanks good no wasted time to debate my health and my future, as if they did, God only knows if I would have been made healthy enough to travel to Washington DC. Lets not waste time on this political game and continue providing ALL Americans the same health insurance as all of us and our families are privy to. Thank you!

Chuck Schumer

Chuck Schumer, please find some balls and while you are at it a backbone…and if you can’t find them please ask Elizabeth warren and the cadre of female Senators to use theirs. John McCain came back from his hospital bed in Arizona, you know the place paid for by Obama Care and the Socialized Medicine, he and you and the Congress receive. John McCain played his Sick Card, as if this illness provided him with foresight, fortitude when in fact he lied and demonstrated the good GOP hypocrisy…and you Senator Schumer along with a whole bunch please dear God, these are the reason why we need term limitations, Senators gave him a standing ovation…WHY? No seriously WHY?

For 8 years you and your ridiculous Dem leadership let Comrade McConnell break every role, yet you and your faux leadership gang of people in the Senate way too long, let Mitch get away with Constitutional crimes. At times Senator Schumer you would lower you reading glasses looking into the camera and say not any more, not again…but guess what Chuck…Mitch could have cared less…and you and your leadership did zilch, zero to stop him. Yeah maybe a few appearances on some liberal talk show, nothing more. Idle threats for a sinister communist like McConnell are just that useless. And today McCain appears as the angel rising claiming both parties are guilty of partisan politics…FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY DUDE, where is your outrage. For 8 years being the poor loser he IS, McCain did everything to stop any incentives by a president who not only won the Electoral College but the popular vote.

I am a 67 year old man have been a Liberal/Progressive/Dem even before I could vote. Your leadership Mr Senator sucks, as did the the leadership during President Obama’s 8 years in office. Applause for McCain who like anyone Trump prefers alternate facts. Hey Chuck, why not ask McCain if the Senate can debate on his health care…tell him his doctors may have to wait while some silly Senate Sub Committee deliberates on his life. Please Chuck if you don’t have the balls or backbone to fight for what is right for us, find someone else who can!

John McCain

John McCain, I call bull shit and hypocrisy and a touch of self anointed holiness. Glad you were well enough to pontificate on the Senate floor as if your actions in the past 8 years was nothing but partisan politics and poor loser-itis. You were very prolific when Obama was president to criticize EVERYTHING he tried to accomplish. You took every opportunity to deny the American people, who voted for Obama in great majorities their right to have their president work for them. How dare you make a speech claiming both parties are at fault. How dare you consider yourself some kind of Elder Statesman when in fact to borrow a Yiddish colloquialism, you are only an alter kucker, lose on the facts but precise in your prejudice. Your speech on the Senate was a bunch of hooey, a bunch of PR words hoping to appease the people as the Republicans and Trump plan their pre-meditated murder of millions of Americans. You and Orin Hatch and a whole slew of useless Senators are perfect reasons for Term Limits.

Interesting isn’t it John McCain, your legislative body gets the power to debate the future of millions of American and their health care…but none of us have word one regarding the debate on your current care. imagine, John McCain if you had to go through hopes for your Cancer concerns, imagine as time ran out for certain drugs, chemo, therapies and day by day you slowly died, dying from the pain of Cancer and the indecisiveness of coverage or not, affordable or not, pre condones or not. Might be hard John McCain, so difficult you might not have been able to return to your job…but then you are a Senator and you thrive because of Socialized Medicine and Obama Care.

How will you cast your vote after the debate John, will you continue your hypocritical habits of pretending you are against Trump, then follow that up with voting for every Trump requests. Remember how you declared Obama was week compared to Putin, but somehow now, Putin is a non issue. I wonder John are you also on the Putin blackmail list like Comrade McConnell or you just prefer to place Party over Country. I know you did a dramatic reading on the Senate floor chastising both parties…were you ever coherent enough to follow the dirty self serving tricks of Comrade McConnell. I call Bull Shit John McCain, its a shame you are such a sham.

DO SOMETHING

A Better Deal…really, A Better Deal, lots of pomp circumstance, angry faces by men in rolled up long sleeve shirts (makes them look like they have been sweating to get this A Better Deal thingie in shape…women in casual attire minus all of the fancy jewelry (gives them that Middle America we too shop at the mall appearance)…We’ll show you America, we have your interests at heart…We are the Dems…you know, the Party that has not made a single move to protect this nation from continued hacking, and hacking that MOST likely will seep into the dark recesses of the 2018 election…We are the dems who permitted Jarod Kushner to speak in a private session NOT UNDER OATH…We are the Dems, the ones who play by the rules and love to TALK shit about the GOP, but still permit them to get away with murder (and in the case of the health Care Bill, Pre-Meditated Murder…

Come on Senator Schumer, please CongressWoman Pelosi, do better then this whole PR trick called A Better Deal…spend the money on your marketing for A Better Deal on making sure all voting places are safer from the Russians and McConnell’s tricks…get the local Congress People on TV in their own districts screaming about health care, female rights, jobs…push an agenda on a law that from this point forward the job of President of the USA is not a given but a privilege, (for God’s sake Dems, in some states it is very clear that even driving is not a right but a privilege)…spend your time on writing into law that if you want to become president show us your taxes, show us your contacts, sho us your physical and mental health reports (not on a scribbled piece of paper but a legal document)…A Better Deal, just like everything you do half assed, Dems, you will pontificate, chastise, debate…but never EVER seem to to get things done.

I am a life long Liberal/Progressive/Democrat, and in my life I have witnessed too many political leaders of my Party just sport BS….DO SOMETHING already!

Anything Going

In olden days, a glimpse of stocking 

Was looked on as something shocking. 

But now, God knows, Anything goes.

Good authors too who once knew better words 

Now only use four-letter words Writing prose.

Anything goes. (Anything Goes-Cole Porter)

Imagine, not hard to do, imagine if anytime in the past an American president

dissed his own spy agencies, demeaned his loyal lemmings, destroyed the foundations of democracy preferring the allegiance of a Communist thug…Imagine, how that individual would have been crucified by a loyal bunch of politicians whose opening lines when starting their jobs is to pledge to uphold the Constitution of the United States…Imagine now that Anything Goes, really ANYTHING…lies are emboldened with lies, facts now matter less and have an alternative meaning…Russia is good Amerika is bad…collusion is debated, criminal activities debunked, and prostitution of the presidency a robust and rousing ring side seat…Imagine just how horrific our past would have been had the republican then been blackmailed helping hack their own elections, and ignoring the misdeed, and criminal activities of Richard Nixon…

Imagine if we actually had Democrat leadership who fought back with the same vile, veneer as Comrade Mitch McConnell…Imagine if our current leadership of Pelosi and Schumer used more then slogans and accommodation to provide the GOP with the same plies of shit they drip on this country each and every day. Imagine, if Pelosi and Schumer, instead of talking shit about turning over red districts actually put a plan in place, a plan of action of sweat and boots on the ground, how we MIGHT turn those districts from red to blue…Imagine if instead of declaring 2018 is ours to win, the current crop of “Big Talkers”, delved in the hacking of 2016, started filing law suits to look at the individual state’s election process…Imagine, how if once in their leadership life time ANY Democrat was proactive instead of reactive…Imagine

Anything goes, look at the puppet Putin placed into power. Look at his family and their continuous business dealings with Russian Mafia figures. Look at the always changing stories of I met, I didn’t meet, we met but it wasn’t a meeting, okay it was a meeting but I did not attend…Look at us, with the help of coward bunch of Press, a slow motion Dem leadership, and a population of the dumbest minority acting as if they owned this country…Maybe this will become TrumpLand…seems no one will try and stop it. Anything keeps on Going

Here are the Clowns

More lies, more corruption, more perjury, more Putin

The lowest common denominator has been breached

Idiots roam the streets of Washington DC…

I know Hillary was the evil incarnate…But look at this partial gang of goons…

Proud you voted against your own interests…happy you showed that Clinton gal a thing or two… Send In the Clowns is a song written by Stephen Sondheim for the 1973 musical A Little Night Music, an adaptation of Ingmar Bergman's film Smiles of a Summer Night. It is a ballad from Act Two, in which the character Desirée reflects on the ironies and disappointments of her life. Here Are the Clowns is a song written by Gerry Buncher, just an average citizen horrified by  imagery of the dumb destroying democracy. it is a ballad from the first act of a very dour tragedy.

Isn't it rich? (They may be rich)

Are we a pair?(But they’re still a joke)

Me here, at last, on the ground (Something you spit out)

You in mid-air(After you toke)

Send in the clowns(Here are the clowns)

Isn't it bliss?(One is a fool)

Don't you approve?(One, communist spy)

One who keeps tearing around(One who keeps nazi supplies)

One who can't move(One we despise)

Where are the clowns?(These are the clowns)

Send in the clowns (We’ve hacked in the clowns)

Just when I'd stopped opening doors(Just when we hoped crazy had died) 

Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours(Freedom is bleeding Ms Liberty cries)

Making my entrance again with my usual flair(Speaking in stupid again with unusual flair)

Sure of my lines(Tweeting more lies)

No one is there(Nobody cares)

Don't you love farce?(They smell like fart)

My fault, I fear(They fart, we hear)

I thought that you'd want what I want(They want what they want) 

Sorry, my dear(Rigid with fear)

But where are the clowns?(But they are clowns)

There ought to be clowns(Con-men renown)

Quick, send in the clowns(Shit, those fucking clowns)

Art of the Schtoop

Comrade Mitch McConnell is both a schtoop-er and a schtoop-ee. Schtoop is a Yiddish word to describe stuffing. However, if you should come across a bunch of older jewish women wise beyond their ages, sitting around sipping one too many peach schnapps or way to much Manischewitz Blackberry wine, they will inform you of the true meaning of the word schtoop as it relates to sex. You can determine if the Non PC definition of two people having sex and penetration is the ultimate result or the PC version of the word stuff, is sufficient in describing Comrade Mitch McConnell and his Un-American behavior. McConnell is the schtoop-ee, receiving vast Lobbyist money from the Pharmaceutical Industry as well as the billionaire stock holders of Health Insurance Companies, why else but being stuffed with money would a man or woman plan pre-meditated murder on millions of Americans by denying them affordable health care. McConnell is the schtoop-er as he rams though legislation to the average American denying them health, happiness and the pursuit of happiness. He loves to stuff down our throats his version or is IT his puppet masters from Putin to the 1% of wealth owners, version of inequality in living standards, health standards, wage standards, and even standards of apple pie and a picket fence. Comrade McConnell is a treasonous anarchist who prides himself of the greed, gluttony and gore that unbridled, unrestricted Capitalism provides.

Next week, once again Comrade McConnell is ready to schtoop it to the American public along with his hacked into office and gerrymandered into office Republican majority of Senators who have decided that affordable health care for the masses is so yesterday, and the that a slow costly death is more of the American way. The GOP is never elected by real people, just the group of people created by an activist Supreme Court, deciding that Corporations are people. And honestly the Corporations as people have little need for health care. The CEO’s the CFO’s The COO’s will receive their tax breaks and have tone of money to spend on their health and welfare. Oh yeah and the Senators and their staff and families well they will still rely on Socialized medicine and keep that awful ObamaCare, that the black president had the audacity to insist was the American way.

So, you voted Republican because they along with Trump were going to Make Americas Great Again. Let me see, you have a pre-existing condition/are on Medicaid (and who knows what will happen to Medicare)/your older children need your medical coverage to keep them healthy/you see a doctor more now then ever…let me see Trump/GOP voters how well you all are doing when and if McConnell and his pre -meditated murders vote for TrumpCare, or even better repeals Obama Care and replaces it with…ummmm death!

They Shoot Horses

“They Shoot Horses Don’t They?” Prior to the days of modern veterinary science, it was common practice (and considered merciful) to shoot a horse with a broken leg to "put it out of it's misery." Back then it was considered almost impossible to successfully heal the broken leg bone of a large heavy horse, and even today it often requires surgery, metal implants and much care. This phrase has been used as a title for a book and a movie, and the phrase is trying to say that if a horse in such miserable shape would automatically be shot, why should a human being be expected to endure it? So we say fare thee well, to a catastrophic , ill qualified pop culture cartoon, spoofed to the delight of viewers all over the world on Saturday Night Live and YOU TUBE, one meaningless buffoon Sean Spicer from the dystopian empire known as Trump Things. Poor Sean he never stood a chance buffeting the truth seeking reporters who knew how much Trump Things lied. Sean was that preverbal house in the midwest surrounded by nothing but prairie a sure target of a tornado at the ready to cause damage and destruction. First Sean was happy, then the look of Misery, as in the title of Stephen King’s book, as the lead character had his legs broken and was left an invalid at the mercy of Trump. Why Trump even tried to spiffy up Sean ordering Spicer to wear Trump brand clothing (The make America great line made in China). But sullen, shackled, doleful dreary Sean failed. Not my fault proclaimed Trump, i will never defend anyone, except the lust, I mean the love of my life Ivanka and myself. Bon Voyage Sean, I am sure there is some iron clad contract you had to sigh (Even though this is still America0 swearing you WILL NEVER TELL THE TRUTH ABOUT TRUMP, just as you did so well as White House Fake News Guy.

Friends, you got trouble,  let me tell you what I mean. You got one, two, three, four, five, six pockets in a table. Pockets that mark the diff'rence Between a gentlemen and a bum, With a capital “B," And that rhymes with "P" and that stands for pool! Trouble, sung by Professor Harold Hill from the Musical The Music Man, by Meredith Wilson.  When Harold Hill traveling Con Man arrives in River City he convinces the locals to start a band by purchasing the uniforms and instruments from him. His intention is to flee as soon as he receives the money. New Con, the ex Wall Street Financier who said: During an appearance on Fox Business in August 2015, Scaramucci called Trump a bully whose campaign would "eventually implode.” In response to Trump's criticism of hedge fund managers, who he said "move around papers," Scaramucci called Trump "a hack politician" and said his comments were “anti-American." But hey we got trouble in Trump City, so who best but one more slimy, sleazy, oily, snake oil salesmen, who for the right amount of pay and of course fame and fortune change his tune to I love the guy (Trump), just love him. This time around we got a guy who on his first day wore the (Make America great again, made in China) Trump attire. Why he even told the girl who introduced him all he needs was some more makeup and hairspray when facing the correspondents. This time around we got a communications director who most likely taught Ms KellyAnne (I have no soul) Conway how to lie. Oh yeah we got trouble, its called SCARAMUCCI!

Here we go

Here we go again, America…taking a bad person and making him a hero, a star a true American…as in Jeff Sessions the Attorney General who lied  during his Senate confirmation hearings, who has ties to Russian money lenders, and who speaks to Racist/Bigoted groups on the side, thinking that as a public figure he does not have to be transparent. Now, because Sessions did one thing within the jurisdiction of the Constitution by recusing himself from the Trump-Russia investigation, and because he did the right thing (God only knows why he did), Trump is now dissing his hand picked Attorney General. so suddenly this man is a good American. Why even some of the Democrat Senators who knew from the very beginning how much of a con man/liar/hypocrite, who did not vote for his appointment are now singing the praised of a dedicated public servant. Bull Shit!

This reminds me of some cities who make some celebrity Grand Marshall of the Pride Parade, well, well, because they risked their heterosexuality reputation by playing a Gay person on TV or film. It like pretending that Caitlyn Jenner is the spokes person for all of those individuals living a closeted life in small towns wishing they too could transition. Its like thinking that Ivanka Kushner’s products made in any county but the USA are different than other mega-corporations as Trump insists Made In America. This Bull Shit, of sudden adoration for Jeff Sessions, who so far has only done the one legitimate thing as Attorney General by recusing himself, once again belittles the morals and values of America in the time of Trump. For just his omission of facts during his confirmation hearings and his lack of demonstrating his Russian banking connections Session’s should have either been impeached or resigned. Now that Trump is scapegoating Sessions he is a hero a saint, and American role model…Pa-Leeze! 

It amazes me, those lemmings who adore Trump, those fools who think because they demonstrate allegiance toward Trump, he too will hold their hands, wipe their brow and defend them…HUH! This is Trump, empty, void who only thinks of himself or perhaps his daughter. Trump is only out for Trump and the people who think otherwise, will…well they will be handled like Sessions, who is expendable if it threatens the plastic wall of lies Trump hides within!

Senator John McCain

Senator John McCain,

No person should have to suffer the effects of Cancer. I wish you well and hope you find recovery from this very inhumane disease. It would be nice to have  Congress fund more and more research into finding cures for all Cancers, and one can only hope reasonable men and women will understand that it does take a village to come to the rescue of its inhabitants.

Senator McCain, the timing of your relapse is quite an interesting point in the current history of this nation. Trump, the guy hacked into office by both Putin and the Republican leadership, some of which are cohorts of yours in the Senate (and some who have demonstrated the reason for term limits due their disregard for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness) and Comrade McConnell, seem to think because affordable health care came with the Obama Administration it is a bad thing. Perhaps the Insurance and Pharmaceutical Lobbyists who seem to have Senators from both parties at their beckon call also desire for Health, Wellness, and Quality of Life to be something only the wealthy can afford. Your party, the majority Party in power seems to have a woeful wonder with keeping all Americans healthy. Your Party, which claims to be the Party of Life, certainly showcases a a hate for the average American and total disgust for those Americans living in poverty or below the poverty average. I understand the GOP has become the party of alternative facts, but the proof is out there as to how many millions will suffer from no health insurance. With your relapse Senator, and hopeful recovery, aside from thanking your God, have you done any introspective as to how lucky you are to have Socialized Medicine (You know, government sponsored health insurance) and how able you were to have as many affordable office visits necessary to defeat your Cancer? 

Senator John McCain, now IS the time for you to make a difference. (After all when Nancy Regan became president during Ronnie’s Alzheimer’s disease, she certainly changed her Christian mind and decided that stem cell research made sense, it would have helped Ronnie) Imagine, Senator John McCain, how many non Senator John McCain’s are living in America, and how some of them may have been diagnosed with Cancer. Now imagine that some of those John McCain’s do not have the same socialized medical insurance as you and the Political Royalty in DC have access to! What should they do…sell their houses… go bankrupt…decide if food or shelter or health care is the priority…just to pay their medical bills. Or Senator John McCain, should all of the other non Senator John McCain’s just wilt away and die, so they do not have to disrupt the finances of their families. You say you will be back, what a wonderful to return and let your Republican Party understand what pre-meditated murderers they all seem to be in trying to Repeal Obamacare and really no Replace it with much else but the typical political response, you are in our hopes and prayers! Who knows Senator McCain you might find that Maverick you so much bragged about! Sincerely, Gerry Buncher

Chaos

This is Chaos…seriously this IS Chaos…a one year old Mastif weighing 145 pounds. Chaos is used to traveling in his “daddy’s” back seat but confined to a Doggie tent with padding on the bottom and a parameter of cushion on the sides. On this day, Chaos had a passenger in the back seat traveling with him, ME, so we had to make some changes and it seemed Chaos was having none of it. For this young pup, the feel of sliding leather was not a joy, and with each bump or burp in the road, Chaos became a bit more scared. Backing up slowly but surely, Chaos was hoping for some comfort to keep him from that awful monster Sliding Leather. My arms around Chaos were not quite the anti venom necessary to keep the monster away, so eventually Chaos all 145 pounds of him landed on my lap. Chaos was content and became a Lap Dog for the remainder of the trip.

Chaos. Yep it happens to even Chaos. If we all become proactive perhaps the insanity of the chaos becomes manageable. Instead of a Chicken Little approach worried that the sky will fall upon our heads and we will become crushed, maybe placing some important I Beams to the sky will make the implosion less difficult to manage. Instead of acting in shock and awe that yet one more Trump Thing has met with the Russians, that one more horrible attempt by Comrade McConnell and his band of billionaires to murder innocent Americans by repealing and half replacing Affordable Health Care, that one more attempt by the Republicans to deny freedoms to anyone but wealthy white guys or white guys dressed in sheets or red arm bands…INSTEAD of ringing out fingers focusing on one more is Trump that stupid, that insane, that inept that corrupt…we should all and all SHOULD HAVE been busy uniting against the Putin Place Puppet, Trump.

Chaos. Yeah, I know, and Putin knew this better than most…most of us want to play by the rules, something we call the Constitution…Trump thinks the Constitution is an island from which he can first pollute by drilling for oil, then pollute even more by building some hotel or tower there. Trump and the Trump Things don’t play by the rules, they burn them write new ones then burn those. When will the good guys start being bad and why do bad things happen to good guys…Chaos! Right now most of us, except the Flat Earth Tea Baggers/Eve Came From Adam’s Rib/and Science is the Devils Delight to Confuse the masses folk, are trying to play fair, while ALL THE WHILE the Trump Things aren’t…I believe we must supple the Trump Things with their own weapon, Chaos. As was proven with my favorite lap dog Chaos, even Chaos fears Chaos!

HAPPY

I was away, made promises to Joe that I would try my best to ignore the cataclysm, apocalypse and End Days surrounding ALL of us (Except for those still wondering about Hillary’s emails), and write Posts of more important things like HAPPY! I did, it was a struggle and since I am a news addict I must now stand in front of the world and announce I am Gerry Buncher a News Junkie and as best as I recall I had a 12 day period of tiny tiny tidbits of news, but I relapsed…

I missed choking on the three or four versions of Donnie Junior lying then proudly not lying only to lie again and finally letting that squishy like thing you just stepped on, which hangs on your shoe, never knowing if it is vomit, road kill left overs, or dog diarrhea, Kelly Anne super max the lie.I also missed the chance the Republicans had to finally become Americans again by being outraged that one more Trump Thing colluded with the Russians, and INSISTING Comrade Junior be investigated. I missed screaming at the TV as Teddy (The Prophet) Cruz decided that since he was a prophet (after all Jesus visited Cruz’s wife and father whispering that Teddy was the anointed one to become the next Messiah, I mean President…or maybe he visited Mrs Cruz to gain some insider trading tips from Goldman Sachs), Cruz insisted via his amendment,  the Congress should NOT lose their horrendous, destructive, Socialist, anti Life ObamaCare, as would the mere mortal citizens of the US. I did feel  sorry for The Maverick McCain,(No one should have to fight the scourge of Cancer again and again), especially if they do not have affordable health care NOT limiting any pre-existing conditions. Seems with out Affordable health coverage, the Maverick’s bill would be close to $72,000. But he is part of the political royalty so the rest of us who are told to just eat cake (as in too expensive medical insurance or no insurance), will pay any remainder of the bill.

There is as much snark, as much sarcasm, as much shit NOW as there was before my Sabbatical into the land of dreams/hope/and of course HAPPY…But I let it slide because of the magic of a town where people act as a village, and do say hello, and when they ask how are you, actually are not satisfied with an answer where you hardly move your lips to respond. This IS my country and the minority of between 32% to some imaginary 40% of insecure, self-loathing, heathens who will buy swampland in Florida over and over again WILL no longer deny me MY freedoms. Isn’t time we ALL rise up and shout no more, no longer, not in MY country? Isn’t it!!!!

Day Twelve

We did the day well, the final few hours of the morning, or was it a sense of mourning…not sure…wore our best-us tanks and shorts…gulped in the crisp this is your last day here bit of oxygen…packed the suitcases as if we were becoming zombies, hungering for something fresh, like MAYBE, a few more weeks of P-Town Bliss. We knew the OMG this is the last day ritual, and like unwilling labs rats placed in a maze, turned, tossed, hesitated, sighed and completed our tasks.

The walk outside, the sun already mocking us with its warmest of greetings as if to say nah-nah-boo-boo, I am going to make you sweat just because you are leaving…but perceiver we did, looked at wispy clouds, slapped a few teeny tiny mosquito’s as they darted and danced stealing some of our blood but leaving us a reward of some place new to scratch. Commercial Street, the main thoroughfare at 6:30 is just awaking so the quiet is as powerful as the clapping of suitcases being towed along the street almost in a parade of fare thee well.

We are, if anything, in life, so able to remember…for good…for bad…but for purpose…we are not to think it is any kind of punishment to be sad, to long for, as awful as those words might resonate, they at least permitted us to experience moments where love, like, potential and peace may have found footing. We are if anything a whole of the sums of that we tried, that we touched, that we tormented over and that we might find triumph. Hello, goodbye, hello Provincetown, as the song ‘See You In My Dreams’, written by Isham Jones goes “…I’ll see you in my dreams, I’ll hold you in my dreams…” Day Twelve

Day Eleven

“…When the light of each summer’s day reaches its end…I’ll sit by the fire with all my new friends…A million tomorrows will never erase…the fun and the joy, the beauty of my summer place…”(Camp Song of Emma Farm) To be human we are able to remember, reminisce, romanticize, recall, not only those we love, unconditionally, but embrace the various journey’s whose destinations left deep impacts, as might a meteor landing to earth crashing through the molten core of our psyche. Our gut feels melancholy, we transfer that emotion to our brain pushing it to find the details (albeit after years and years may be a bit hazy, but never haphazard), and finally the need to know, to relive travels to our heart and every single adjective, adverb, hyperbole resting within arises and SUDDENLY we are back to the place we never want to erase.

It’s Day Eleven, the day before departure, the day when you know one more 24 hour short span of time exists; but this the day for me, the before I say goodbye, my mind wanders, my eyes try to focus, my brain picks and chooses and my gut begs to be that five year old kid who wants to cry, kick, shout, and stammer…but there is so much more, just one more ride and i promise I will be good!

Joe and I had our romantic dinner at the Red Inn, almost at the end of the Cape, so close the place where the Ocean and the Bay meet sharing tales that eons and eons of ebbs and tides can muster. Of course we see with our eyes, but this time as I reflected on the colors of Provincetown, the hues seen nowhere else but this place, it was my heart doing all of the work. As if a magnet, pulling the forces of nature,I once again realized it is not just life that matters, but the priorities you, me us make of them. One more day of delight, of course, and one more posting in my Blog Diary, but Day Eleven was the Collector of the Certain, the Caress-er of Change, the Cause, Consequence and Challenge. Many years have passed since my counselor day at Emma Farm Camp, but sing me the Camp song, and i am right in front of the campfire, sobbing and sighing with the best of them! Day Eleven

Day Ten

IMAGINATION: clever thoughts of impossible possibilities, leading you to extremely unpredictable opportunities, filled with oversized creatures, teeny tiny cracks and crevices from which to squeeze through, ideas ideals, idiocies, islands in the sky causing the utmost and utterly immediate emotions. So easy to explore, just close your eyes, hold your ears tightly, hold your breath for a mere 5 seconds, and presto chango, open all orifices and orbs, look straight ahead and choose the adventure that awaits OR…take a stroll on a Cape called Cod, trudge though warped time and find yourself at the entrance of Winslow Cemetery built in the 1700’s. Look closely as all creatures of the woods, all elves, gnomes, fairies, goblins and ghouls lurk in the tall grasses, they are stubborn, wanting to be seen, but await you spying them first…

…OR stand silent, stand still and suddenly an array of stairs appear. They reach to the edge of the road, the road often traveled, but then temp you to try the first few of them begging you to begin the incline leading to the road, perhaps, less traveled or better yet, the road of IMAGINATION. What lurks, lingers, lounges, lives just above the tallest of the steps…what eagerly awaits inspection, is it your perception, your hesitation, or your eagerness to explore the shadows the places between the lines, where brushing branches caress the grass, the silhouettes of shapes and symbols recognizable OR, relegated, to the I refuse to know-ables…

IMAGINATION: infinite adventures, which begin with you, one step at a time, one inhale brave enough to permit entrance to lands where it will take your breath away…So much right in front of you, but damn, if you don’t see it it vanishes as fast it did appear! Day Ten

Day Nine

Day Nine and suddenly I find eight vacant chairs, each begging, inviting and urging me to be a guest. Sit and think, so the chairs are intimating, much to look at from this point of view, try one try all, and see the sites from our vantage. First, I took a photo from my vantage, and realized that right in front my eyes, was a rainbow. Now I wondered, what happens when a person touches the colors of a rainbow, do they fade into one another, remain solid, or suddenly become uniquely yours, all full of you own DNA. I meandered over to the waiting chairs, each aligned with a precise inventory of give me your tired and your poor,  all set in a rhythm looking like the tooth line of a colorful gnome. 

This day had the clouds in a gloomy parade of dark to darker, thick to thickest. This day let the sun peek through some clouds made of Swiss Cheese, only to smother the yellow orb with gray puffs of clouds looking like Panda Bears from the the Asian contentment. This day the wind was king, brushing aside the tank tops, T-shirts, chilling the shirtless, and playing games of drip drop with tiny tinsels of raindrops zoned in with sonar to only fall on your head. This day was pure East Coast, a hint of September, the smugness of August, and the sincere aroma of freshly grown April. But this day also included a secret, rainbows to be found, but only when you actually stopped all you were doing and thought and looked and finally found them.

Eight chairs in a row, a rainbow hanging like a miniature spider web, lush in its silky hues, and if you look close enough you might ask the question, did the camera soak up the reflection from the sun…OR the tiny orbs floating within the rainbow, are they Provincetown Spirits…Day Nine

Day Eight

Life can be the same old story, the ebb and flow of the sea, the sun and moon, rising, setting…BUT what lies beneath all of that, what hides in the rays of the sun or the beams of the moon, what might we seek at the bottom of the sea…are our roads already chosen, charting a course with the same involuntary machinations as inhaling and exhaling, or suddenly we see clearly what the fog has been hiding hoping to lure us into solving a mystery…

Shadows in the midst, do we dare stand up to the anticipation of fear…build walls to hide from the truth…erect boarders to stay the same, although each day of our life is different…create a path leading to the next horizon, paving the way forward permitting us to grow…is life a challenge to change or to stay the same…

The Rock Jetty in Provincetown was erected by the Coast Guard, as a bridge for people to enjoy the Bay and the Ocean, to connect the furthest point east with closet point west in Provincetown. Joe’s and my delight is to walk the Jetty as the tide roll outs, permitting us to stand at the bottom of the sea and almost touch the sky at the same time. The ebb and flow, the rays of the sun the beams of the moon, a continuum of life of course that is the same, but each time we visit this palace of nature we are different. Our life’s story is written with both pen and crayon, there are moments that will always remain but there are times when a quick eraser will create a different tale to tell. For me, Provincetown is that blank piece of paper waiting for the next chapter to be written. Day Eight

Day Seven

The mystery of  vacant chairs, the wonders of how far away, the mayhem of departing and arriving, the worries of enough time, the magic of the ocean, the wisdom of the sea. Three empty chairs facing the Provincetown Blue, waters of the Bay, ships sailing horizontal to the shore with some seeking shelter in a rollicking white headed wave furiously pushing against the shore, only to find its way back to the beach. So many opportunities to stop the motion of time, a white picket fence, a sand bar left ashore as the tide meanders further and farther, ships anchored as the sea begs for each buoy to bounce just hard enough to release its treasure…wait, not yet..soon…

The mystery of three chairs facing forward, the horizon ahead is that far enough to wish for, or once conquered is the next setting sun the place to be, and can this continue without ever any closure? Does hope need a conclusion? Does imagination ever seem fulfilled? Do expectations need a picket fence, a sand bar, an anchor? We watch the three chairs and maybe wish we were returning from riding the tide, from dancing in the sand, from blissfully befuddled by just how big the universe can be, and just how much space we should, would or could consume.

Three blue chairs, singing a tune from Beauty and the Beast, “…be our guest…”

And if we sit upon those chairs dreaming, delirious with the joys of life, is this our fist time longing to return to the place where the water and the sand meet, or  have we sat upon those chairs that when we return it is like coming home. For Joe and I, this is an easy quiz…Provincetown feels like home. Day Seven

Day Six

Growing up as a child of the 50’s, things were rather precise…drawing between the lines was an unquestioned expectation both literally and figuratively things were rather black and white…from television shows, to separate schools and neighborhoods and the rule that gender played in a very Christian American society, be THE MAN or his little lady! You either were with the nation or against the nation in the 50’s and lines had been drawn by some unforeseen force permitting the same kinds of people to marry the same kind, to worship with with the same kind, and to be a real American, as in “Are you now or have you ever been a Communist”.No questions needed to be asked as long as you stayed in-between the lines, after all President Eisenhower created the Interstate Routes, all drawn with lines going north and south or east and west. Follow the line, be good, and the American life will certainly be yours as a blessing.

Times have changed and the boundaries placed upon each and everyone have either moved like the ebb and flow of the tide, or have charged forward with consequence, good or bad, like the waves of a tsunami, the quake of the earth or an avalanche falling freely with force. No longer are the lines as straight and forceful as the 50’s insisted they be…but at the same time the lines newly formed still ask questions and urge the adventurer to wonder which line, curved or starlight, far or near is the one to try.

Provincetown, does not believe to follow the line is a necessary necessity, nor a normal approach to the day ahead. Joe and I stand on the shore, in front of us are the ruins of a dock, yearning to meet the waves, all facing the ships at sea, each with a different destination ahead. To color in-between the lines here, in this place is a sad sin, sorrowful for the soul who seems to believe there is only one way to live a life. Lines are the design of life, limitless and if you need more then by all means create another line up, down, inside out, or outward and never ending. Day Six!

Day Five

Morning HAD broken, there were some givens and THEN, the mysteries of the day awaited, lying dormant; all hiding within the first rays of the sun. Some at the ready to latch on to the first breath, some lingering to the beads of  perspiration as the day trudges on, some as reticent as the human in slow motion and some clinging to  the sleepy eyed person still in bed. As if an alien, the mysteries of the day take on zigzag shapes as the clouds dance with the sun, then sparkle as the wind pushes them along, then dazzle as the sun finds its point of view at High Noon, announcing the morning has ended and the afternoon shall commence. The morning sun will rise, we know that, but it is the magic, the tragic, the drama, the trauma, the fate, the fortunate, the events that follow which are left for us to discover, fortunes rich or poor.

Morning HAD broken in Provincetown, a panorama of particulars eagerly waiting to be selected, OR a choice of only this or that…it doesn’t matter here…because no matter how much, or not at all…morning will arrive and the choices, chances consequences will wait and wait and wait.

Morning has broken in America, and we, all of us, can ignore its mysteries, fear its potential, or ignore its promiscuity. We can rise and shine, only to fall and fade…OR we can pick and choose and find the momentum in its magic. While, sitting on the wharf in Provincetown, watching the fire in the sky delight the heavens, I know that facing forward is the only way. The dark of night has many  hours to confuse and scatter our consciences, so while the light of day is here, we must live large and live the life we are! Day Five