Has Trump Pushed Me to Fleece?

Jesus fucking Christ.

Another week, another batch of asinine and dangerous moves by Trump.

Because I work from home, I have a hard time tuning out the orange asshole. Morbid curiosity gets the best of me and I can’t help but rubberneck the Trump clown-car crash on MSNBC. My “Fuck Trump” shirt is fading and fraying like my hopes and nerves.

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Am I Sponge-Worthy?

sponge sheets 2

A few nights ago, my x-cat Sponge died and joined his brother Gary up in cat heaven. I posted about Gary and his brother Sponge here, two years ago when Gary died. I’m glad I did, because I don’t want to forget anything about those glorious “gentlemen”, and how I felt then and now, painful as it is.

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Photo bombing Check Please! Bay Area

That's me with the glass of red wine and the "jazz hand" at the Gold Mirror in San Francisco.

That’s me with the glass of red wine and the “jazz hand”.

 

For people in my age-range, local television has always been a guilty pleasure, something to watch and potentially “star” in too. If we didn’t star, a friend did, or a friend of a friends’ sister did, or the sister of a friends’ neighbors’ therapist did. We all loosely know someone who did the Cabbage Patch on TV Dance Party or clinked a wine glass with Leslie Sbrocco on Check Please! Bay Area.

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