The Women's March on Washington and Sister Marches: THANK YOU!

I've had strep all week and so am unable to be at the St. Paul Sister March. I am not happy about this. But, I am watching on CSPAN, and it is cool. A wonderful turnout, and following Twatter, there are huge demonstrations for every Sister.

Ashley Judd just preached, an amazing speech, a nasty speech - what we lost when she halted her race against Mitch 'The Human Foreskin' McConnell. Force of nature.


Michael Moore leaned a bit heavy on Bernie Bronishness, but he was not totally wrong - we liberals need to get involved, need to get busy, need to push and reform the Democratic Party. Full disclosure, I caucused for Sen. Sanders, but enthusiastically supported Sec'y Clinton in the general. However, she is done, and it is time for new, and ideally more vicious blood.

The Orange Moron is attending his 'prayer service', broadcast on MSNBC. We can't see the earbuds playing the soundtrack from 'My SEXXXY Daughter'.  Fuck MSNBC. I need a news network with fewer Tweetys and Intern Killers. Take Joy, Lawrence, Rachel, Hayes, and a couple others and get them their own network.

I was raised Catlick, and turned on Mother Church fairly savagely as a result. But the one positive memory of uniformed schooling was the nuns. I don't knock nuns, at all - they were generally pretty chill and lived their faith, not doctrine, but actual faith, with a call to service for people. The last speaker was Sister Simone Campbell of Nuns on the Bus, and she was brief and to the point and needs actual Sainthood.

Cecile Richards is now raising the roof. Go get 'em!

Senators Gillebrand, Harris (NEW!) and Duckworth (NEW! ALSO BIONIC!), just barnburners!

Got to Patton Oswalt's feed @PattonOswalt - much fun is being had at the expense of the punched Nazi. I don't advocate physical violence in 99.999% of anything. But NaziPunching? This should become a trend!

Also, go to Are You Sorry Yet, a tumblr, shockingly tentacle porn-free, of Trumpanzees realizing they've been conned. Good humor!

Drumpf Solves World Peace, Brangelina; Batboy Bobbled Brady's Balls

Breakfast time, Sunday morning. 

On weekends, I get to make fancier brunches than my weekday protein and frothy fruity shakes. Imma want cauliflower with onion fried in chile/lime olive oil (a homemade infusion, I'm trying to get a bit crunchier) with apple-chicken sausage and scrambled eggs. Checking the refrigertator, except the oil I got about none of that. 

Off to Cub, doop-doop-de-doop, shoppity-shop, I feel my plaid pajama bottoms are not congruous with the families coming home from church, bobbidybap, at checkout, 

HOLY BALLS!

Iwon'tthrowupIwon'tthrowup

A lot of people see this rag since it is featured prominently, top shelf, front of the checkout, in every grocer in the country. The publisher, some cat name of David Pecker, famously friendly to the Illegitimate President-Elect of the US, Comrade Gropenfuhrer. 

Over the years, the Enquirer has gotten a few very high-profile things right. Enough that it is not immediately discounted even by people who should know better. Hell, I've said, when they reported something I find favorable, "Well, hey, they were right on John Edwards, they were right on Limbaugh being a junkie, they were right on the Cosby kid."

This attitude ignores much.

It ignores that although they were right in some cases, each of those instances started out as hatchet jobs. The Enquirer somehow stumbled erection first through a minefield of mousetraps and found a patty-melt with tots. Yay them.

It ignores that in these FEW instances where the Enquirer was actually right, they were memorable because the Enquirer is so often;  

• incredibly wrong
• doing meaningless fluff
• 4 words: Make Money At Home
• 
  

You don't remember the headlines about Princess Diana's long-lost evil twin, Jehosaphialy Duggar, being the secret brains behind the burgeoning Hollywood conservative movement of Vince Vaughn, Gary Sinese, Mel Gibson, and Meatloaf, because they weren't quite as correct.

Here, though, positioned prominently as you stand in line with your loaves and fishes, is one of the few pictures of the Shitgibbon where he does not look like a big toe with some form of Orange Foot Rot. Giving him an early promotion to POTUS, the walking Cheetoh is seen promising war on, and death to, the Yellow Peril and 'the evil a-rabs'*, as his frothing cult exults in madness. Finding the real hackers? His inbred mouth-breathing acolytes couldn't define hacking, much less piece together the breadcrumbs leading to the GRU/FSB actors behind it. They just think "Well, Abby and McGee can type with four hands on the keyboard faster than the hacker, so we win!" 

All I'm saying is that, suppose we get the major hard news outlets to remember to afflict the comfortable, and comfort the afflicted?

In print circulation, the Enquirer is quite competitive with all of the legacy organs, WaPo, NYTimes, Dallas Morning News. We still have a long way to go.

*No, the irony of 'the evil a-rabs' when the Persians would in fact be the original Aryans, so celebrated by these Nazi scumbags, does not escape me.

______________________________________________

Now, for the greater question.

IS BATBOY IMPLICATED IN 'DEFLATEGATE'?

Yes. Quo Vadis, bitches.

I Don't Even Want To Buy Charlotte Church Albums, Dammit!

Charlotte Church spit on the Shitgibbon's transition team, who approached her to sing. She responded absolutely loverly, to wit,

@realDonaldTrump Your staff have asked me to sing at your inauguration, a simple Internet search would show I think you're a tyrant. Bye💩💩💩💩

— Charlotte Church (@charlottechurch) January 10, 2017

Okay, so first, I have to learn to like Welsh opera. Lotta consonants, goddammit lotta consonants, something along the lines of 'La Tradyydfiatddyfyata'.

But, I must inform the writer of this link, Mr. Brad Reed, who scribed

Unlike most singers asked to perform at the inauguration, however, Church didn’t just politely turn down Trump’s request in private.

Hey, ummm, boss? For the record, she was being polite. 

The Welsh would bow only to the Scots in the creative usage of language to call you a schmuck. And then only after a long brawl.