Are there any sinners reading this post today? 😉
It’s Day 9 — yom tiss’aa, in Arabic — of my quitting the drink.
Ah Demon Alcohol…. such sad memories I can recall. Unboring ones too, though. You don’t spend your 20s to mid 30s in Manhattan dive bars without something unusual happening from time to time.
At any rate, lots of hand-wringing today on Morning Joe. Things are indeed worrisome. The orange cocksucker from Queens continues to roil the nation, as his exposure to felonious conviction widens.
Meanwhile, his traitorous supporters continue to speak out against the United States with apparent impunity.
No question things are coming to a head. No, not the Lion’s Head, you impenitent reprobates.
My view, in the end, is that Trumpie and some of his key enablers — in particular, the ones with money — will eventually skip town and scurry to the safety of apartheid Israel, where they will probably be accorded citizenship, at least the ones with ones with enough shekels, and thus potentially avoid extradition and the long arm of Johnny Law.
As for the ordinary trailer park MAGA crowd, the ones without the big bucks, the ones who were bamboozled by various authoritarian grifters, well, the worst will most likely face lengthy prison sentences — particularly if they remain a material threat to the United States — while the rest might get to enjoy various degrees and stages of permanent financial ruin.
But the truth is, I don’t give a shit.
Why should Morning Joe and his clique act so aghast at current developments?
It’s not like the United States has not sinned in the past; you reap what you sow, eh Joe?
That aside, there’s a lot of positive stuff going on in my life right now.
Life is undeniably good — busy, but good.
My beautiful wife and I are flying back up to NY on Wednesday to get our Westchester house ready to be put on the market.
Yaddi yadda ya.
Meanwhile, there’s a bunch of stuff that needs to be done today on Day 9.
That’s my focus right now.
All that matters is that I continue to take care of business, and the rest will take care of itself — thanks to my Hiyapawa whom I choose to call The Big Elvis.
You feel me, dog?