Ammo Grrrll has a request: PLAY IT AGAIN, NAN! She writes:
Some people cannot learn. The people I am talking about are mostly in their 60’s and 70’s and maybe it’s just too late to absorb any new information. Since I am in that demographic, I don’t like to think that’s true. But, sometimes I get a real hard lesson and learn THAT way. The people I’m talking about are insanely wealthy and privileged, so they do not learn hard lessons because they have been sheltered from all hard lessons.
Let me give you an example. Since I was a very young tomboy, my Mama and I used to sling her furniture around at will, including the upright piano which weighed as much as a baby elephant. We would redecorate every few months, to Daddy’s great annoyance. Mama weighed between 90-110 her whole life and stood 5 feet tall, but she was strong as an ox. She played catcher on a ladies’ league softball team. Fielders backed up when she batted. She could break an apple in half with just her hands, a hit with neighbor kids. ”Come in and see what Mrs. B can do! Maybe she’ll give us one of her fresh caramel pecan rolls, too!”
Contrary to stupid feminist mythology (95 percent lies), I learned that being a strong girl and a smart girl were both good things. So back to my lesson. It is important to me still to think of myself as that strong. Which means that on occasion I will do a stupid thing. Like buying four 40-lb. bags of salt pellets at Ace and then wrestling them out of the trunk and lugging them to the water softener without waiting for the famous novelist Max Cossack to get home.
Whoa, doggies! First of all, Max was very upset with me, what with my arthritis, fragile rotator cuff and spasm-prone lower back. He shook his index finger at me for an extended period of time in the manner of “Bad doggie!” And – Doh! — just a few hours later, my lower back seized up and my upper glute formed a painful knot and I couldn’t walk without the walker we had borrowed for an earlier health crisis. I hate it when he’s proven right and I gave some thought to pretending that I was just fine. But it’s tough to explain what you’re doing with a walker. “Nope, nuthin’ to see here; just taking the walker for a little spin…”
I soaked in Epsom Salts, and rested for Day One. But the human body is, in fact, a healing machine. By the time you are reading this, I should be fine, though cards with money in them could help. Haha. I kid. But heck, George Floyd’s brother got $14.7 MILLION to help, you know, defray funeral expenses. Gold caskets are not cheap.
The point is this: I’M NOT GOING TO DO THAT AGAIN. If I have to drag an inert Max to safety in a Zombie Apocalypse, well, that’s one thing. But no more showing off by lugging salt bags when several men are right here in the neighborhood — some Texan, some Marines!
Okay, watch what I do here now. In comedy, this is called a segue. If we are to take the ACTIONS of the Democrats as good coin, then we must admit that they BELIEVE that Americans not only love 100-day long riots and arson, but also just love to be insulted and accused of doing things they did not do and thinking thoughts that they do not think.
It was one thing to learn in 2008 that Obama told secret things to a group of supporters when he thought we wouldn’t hear about it. That, in itself, was disturbing, but okay. We were willing to stipulate to clinging to God and guns and wondered why everybody didn’t. What the leftist loons thought was a negative was, to us, the motor force of our lives. Strike one.
It is my firm belief that before the Basket of Deplorables speech – and, as a writer, I will go to my grave wondering, “Why a BASKET?” — Hillary was probably coasting, or in her case, coughing and stumbling, to victory. What, one wonders, was the point of it? Her leftie loonies were already convinced we were horrible, stupid, smelly morons with bad teeth. Who was it aimed at? It was a self-indulgent piece of red meat thrown to her slobbering worshippers, even though many of them are vocal vegans, and it made Normal America really mad.
She lost. Let’s all just take a minute and go to YouTube to relive that wonderful November night. And then have a cigarette. Are you back? So any halfway-smart “consultant” would have to say, “ixnay on the insults, kids.” But heck no, they doubled down! For every bleepin’ minute of the last four years! Hate never sleeps. Derangement never takes a holiday.
A scrawny pretend “comic” in her 60’s trots out a bloody severed head of the President and is shocked when people do not laugh. Heck, she was used to getting millions without ever once being funny, so what happened this time? Don’t Americans LOVE beheading? Another humorless harridan calls the beautiful daughter of the President a “feckless bad c-word” and kept her job. The next day an elderly member of the Fonda clan consulted a Thesaurus and found another unseemly word for female genitalia to try to top the harridan. An old Italian gnome in lift shoes graced the Oscars with the brilliant riposte “EFF Trump!” And on it went. Rob Reiner alone could fill an entire course on Abnormal Psychology.
And Nancy “Good Morning” Pelosi, in whose odd, muttering mouth butter would not melt, has had to go waaaay off the rails to come up with something worse than “deplorable.” And, by Jove, she found it! Trump, his GOP allies, and supporters are “Domestic Enemies of the State.”
If there’s one thing we Americans love more than gratuitous insults, it’s some babbling Botoxed billionaire decreeing rules for thee but not for me. Tens of thousands of people have had their businesses destroyed with the one-two punch of the riots and this endless lockdown. Cooperative Americans have tried hard to wear masks, especially during the early weeks when we were all tasked with “flattening the curve.” In the halcyon days before 200 MILLION of us perished before Joe Biden finished reading his Teleprompter. Sad.
Then Nattering Nan gets “set up” by someone grabbing her mask and forcibly preventing her from wearing it in her illegal hair appointment. Even Don Lemon said, “Why didn’t she just apologize?”
Want to see how this stuff plays in America? Go into the bar at Riscky’s in Fort Worth and tell the first person you see that his daughter is a feckless c-word. Tell his black friend at the next table that if he doesn’t vote for the doddering, corrupt, white imbecile at the top of the ticket, he ain’t black. Come to my Dusty Little Village and call the Pinal County Sheriff a Domestic Enemy of the State. Be sure to bring an I.D. so people know where to locate your next of kin.
It’s not WORKING, Democrats! You learned nothing. You’re going to lose again.