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I Offend; Therefore I am

October 27, 2017

Every so often I am reminded that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. That I am an acquired taste. That I offend. You’ll not be surprised to know that the number of fucks I give about this is nil. Zero. Zilch. None.

I am not here to tell you what you want to hear. I am not here to provide you with a safe space because you’re too precious to hear what I have to say, or how I say it. I am too old to be told that my behaviour or language is not ladylike. I’m over 50 and no longer have to answer to my great-grandmother’s Victorian rules of etiquette, or my cotillion teacher’s rules for the deportment of young ladies. I don’t cross my legs at the ankles, I don’t keep my opinions to myself, and I don’t curb my tongue.

I am outspoken and brash. I will respond to most situations, even the bleakest, with snark. I use profanity. Effusively. I like the word “fuck” very much. I will use it when, where, and how I want. I will say it in front of your children and will not put money in the swear jar. Frankly you should tip me for teaching your offspring proper English in an era where they are learning to use emojis instead of words, and that it’s rude to complete a sentence in a text with a period. Fuck that.

I give the finger. I give it for all kinds of reasons and for no reason at all. If you want to take my photo you’re agreeing to me flipping you off as it is rare that I will pose for one where I’m not. Not even my own wedding photos.


I don’t know “my place” and I won’t be put in it by anyone. I’m a grown ass adult with a lifetime of experiences, ideas and opinions. I will not change to make you feel better. The issues you may have with me are yours, not mine, and you will need to find a way to come to terms with them. So, if I’m not your cup of tea, don’t drink me.


Slow Your Roll

February 20, 2017

Bitch, please. If y’all are gonna survive you need to slow your roll.

Bitch, Please

Sweet Mother of Cheezits, anyone else exhausted yet? Cabinet nominations, travel bans, Russian spies, imaginary terrorist attacks ,and campaign rallies… CAMPAIGN RALLIES? We’re one month in and I’ve already blown my annual bourbon budget. People, please, slow your roll.


Since day one of what may well be the Last American Presidency both sides of the aisle have been on the offensive. The left has been taking offense to everything. The right has been demanding supplication, and the media has been trying to keep it all straight in the face of accusations of being “fake news.”  It’s fucking exhausting to be everyone.

Basic fact is that no matter what side of the chasm you’re on, you’re not gonna make it through the first 4 years of the rest of America’s life, if you don’t slow your roll. This isn’t high school kids, you can’t get off and go again, better than…

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February 7, 2017



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Tonight Imma Angry White Girl

January 31, 2017

I have never been so ashamed of my race, my fellow citizens, or my country’s leadership than I am tonight. I don’t normally spend a lot of my time worrying about race and ethnicity. I’m not gonna be some lying PC liberal who tells you I don’t see colour, but honest to God I just don’t tend to give a shit about it. But tonight, I’m one angry white girl, and I’m angry at the racist fuckmuppets that are dismantling this country in the name of “nationalism.” Shit by any other name smells just as bad. This is racism in its purest form.

I was waiting in line at Target this afternoon and casually giving the other patrons the once over. Scoping out who was buying what – harshly judging the woman who bought the new Chocolate Strawberry Oreos because that’s just not right – and it dawned on me that I was the only white person in sight. I can imagine that this would have inflamed or horrified an Alt-Right white girl, but it actually made me smile. I listened to people speaking a couple of different languages,  and I thought to myself “This is what America really looks like. This is what MY America looks like.”  My America is open, welcoming, and inclusive. It may not be perfect, but until today I’d take it over most places on the planet. Today not so much.

I’m about as purebred white American girl as you can get.  Not quite the Heir of Slytherin pureblood, but I’ve got a pedigree that would make a white supremacist ejaculate prematurely. My people came over on the Mayflower. They were white, Christian, and carried diseases. My ancestors fought in the Revolutionary and Civil Wars.  My people have been here for nearly 400 years. They built the foundation, government and industries that make up the history of this country. Sure, they weren’t perfect. They owned slaves. They treated Native Americans like vermin. Not gonna lie and make them sound flawless. We can’t take a time machine back and fix their wrongs. But, what they did do is come here as immigrants, work their asses off and build the foundations of a country that has in the intervening centuries been defined by philosophical, cultural and ethnic diversity. This was, and always has been, a country of opportunity for people from all over the world. I think, despite their inherent flaws and the prejudices of their times, our Founding Fathers would actually be pretty fucking proud of the way this country has turned out. Until today.

Today a snotty entitled greedy child took another stab at defiling the Constitution – a document and set of guiding principles that thousands of men and women died to see come to fruition and thousands more have fought to defend. The laws of this country, the checks and balances of our government’s design, aren’t and shouldn’t be treated like quaint notions that don’t apply because a white nationalist and a guy with a bad hair piece are running the Executive Branch.  The Constitution of the United States of America isn’t a fucking substitute for toilet paper for the bathroom of the West Wing.

You cannot ethnically cleanse America. You cannot, as the Alt-Right kids like to suggest, send everyone back from where they came from.  You cannot send all the African-Americans back to Africa.  You cannot send all the Asian Americans back to Asia. You cannot send all the Muslim Americans back. The White Wonderland they envision isn’t even remotely feasible without bombing ALL OF US back to the mother-fucking stone age. This is not how you “make America great again.”  This is how you make a mockery of our history, embarrass us in front of the world, and end up getting more Americans killed.

This is how you make America ashamed again.




Presidential Grudge Fuck

January 28, 2017

A grudge fuck is really the only way I can describe how this past week has felt. Every morning has brought more news out of the White House that makes me feel an overwhelming sense of dread and shame. I’m ashamed of my country’s leadership and of my fellow Americans.

The tone and tenor of the first week of 45’s occupation of highest office in the land has been one of aggression and self-aggrandizement. Executive orders aimed at inflaming the liberal left, stripping millions of people of their healthcare, locking out of the country people who were legally admitted to this country and who contribute to our economy,  flipping off a neighbouring country, telling indigenous people that we don’t care if they are displaced or die so long as the entitled class can have more. Cabinet appointments that are paybacks for money donated whether they are actually to the benefit of the people they are appointed to serve.  And payback against the people who dared to have a different opinion from the current leadership. Just a dirty, nasty, lubeless grudge fuck.


The rhetoric has been that of anger and loathing for the majority of people who make up this country – people who want to live their lives in peace, genuinely want to love their neighbour, feel safe, raise their children and rely on the notion that their government has their backs. Instead of sending out positive messages to the country that emphasize that we’re going to move forward together to make this country live up to it’s potential, we’ve had to listen to 45 keep measuring his dick. It’s not possible that everything about him and his presidency is “the greatest” or “the biggest” or always historic. Not every speech he gives is in the same class as the Gettysburg address. It’s just not feasible for that to happen. And the sycophants around him need to stop telling him that it is and stop telling the American people that they are too stupid or misguided to know the difference between truth and fiction. They aren’t making it better.

We want a president who speaks to all of us and for all us. Not one who panders to a specific demographic that represents a true minority in this country. We’re not all angry white people who think they are owed retribution and restitution for their state of existence. Most of us want a president who can, at least, pretend to understand what it’s like to be an “average American”. To understand when you can’t afford to make your house payment, pay the medical bills for your spouse’s cancer treatment, send your kids to college, afford bus fare to get to work at your minimum wage job, be a single parent who is trying to balance work and child rearing or just getting through the fucking day.

We want a president that recognizes that half of the country’s population are women and that women have all kinds of special healthcare needs that men do not. Men do not have to spread their legs and have a speculum shoved up their twat so it can be scraped to make sure they don’t have cancer. Men don’t have the discomfort and some times debilitating pain that comes with having your uterus rip it’s own lining out every month.  Men don’t bear the burden of birth control to make sure they don’t have an unwanted pregnancy ,or have to deal with the ramifications and side effects of birth control. Men don’t have their twats ripped at the seams forcing a child out of their bodies and into the world.  The most men find themselves worrying about for the bulk of their life is whether or not their dick can get hard at will. We have an president who thinks of women as objects whose pussies are up for grabs and isn’t ashamed to admit that.


Delivering a bleak, dystopian Inaugural Address doesn’t speak to making America great or even better. It makes America sound like Escape from New York or The Purge. Listening to it I wanted to peek out my front door and make sure there weren’t gangs of armed lunatics marching down my street, cars on fire, and small children abandoned by dead parents in the “American Carnage” that seems to define our nation. He didn’t talk about real hope, real healing, being a country of inclusion rather than exclusion. About making life better for your fellow man. About admitting that we’re part of the global community. That the universe is bigger than his own prick. He made it sound like we were so fucked and on the verge of an imminent apocalypse  and only he could save us. One half expected him to rip open his shirt and expose his superhero Underoos with a giant T emblazoned across the front.


But he’s not a super hero. He’s not even close to it. He’s a man who can’t stop congratulating himself on being so “tremendous”. He’s a man who can’t stop trying to convince us that he’s really the most popular guy who has ever lived. He’s a man who believes he knows everything about everything and can’t possibly be wrong or shortsighted – but who doesn’t actually possess any actual knowledge and eschews the advice and knowledge sharing of people whose education and experience inform them. He sounds just like the petulant child that is running North Korea, not like a well balanced, well meaning American president.

I keep hearing that “Trump won. Stop being a sore loser.” Like the role of every good American is to accept defeat and let the “winner” run roughshod over their lives. That’s not the way America was designed. Winning an election isn’t, and shouldn’t be, about conquering your own country – forcing the people to bow down to your will – while you rape and pillage to fill your own coffers or those of your generals. That’s pretty much the complete opposite of why this country was established. Knowing and understanding that this isn’t what America stands should compel every American to work to move America forward constructively. Not destructively. Not in anger. Not in hate. And not without lube.


Dear Fuckmuppet-Elect

January 16, 2017


Dear Fuckmuppet-Elect;

I know it’s not like you give a shit what I, or really any American, thinks now that you’ve “won” the election, but that’s really not going to stop me from expressing my opinion. It’s that pesky 1st Amendment shit again. We’re just days away from what is going to be known to future generations as one of the darkest days in American history. The day you are sworn in as Fuckmuppet-in-Chief.  I refuse to call you “President” because you’re truly not a legitimate president.  John Lewis is right to question your legitimacy, you’re just too much of a narcissist to admit he’s right.

I’m not saying “Not my President” in the same way that the delusional birthers and racists did with Obama, but rather from the reality that 1) you didn’t win the popular vote  (which means you’re not the most popular kid in school, again) and 2) the fucking Russians, and 3) (most importantly) there’s not one fucking thing that is presidential about you.   I will also not be watching the inauguration. I will turn every TV set in my house to low rent porn stations rather than give your inauguration the ratings you so desperately crave.

For much of my adult life I worked for a certified con-artist, and that gave me the skill-set to be able to spot a grifter/confidence man/snake oil salesman like you from 30 paces. You ran a campaign based on conning naive people into believing you had their best interests at heart when the reality is you could give a flying fuck about anyone other than yourself. It’s going to be a crying shame when they finally realize you picked their pockets while you shook their hands. Every one of them will regret not having doused themselves in Purell immediately after voting for you. Big Pharma is going to make a fortune when the demand for anti-depressants sky rockets during your tenure.

Every morning this country wakes up to another stupid fucking comment you’ve made on Twitter. It’s amazing that a grown ass man spends as much time tweeting like a teenage girl with an inferiority complex. That you worry more about the mocking you get from a comedy show, than the risk analysis of the Intelligence Community on the ongoing threats to American safety. What’s it like inside your head? Is there room for real rational thought in there? Or is all the space taken up by self-aggrandizement, penis envy, urolagnia, and an obsession with fucking your own daughter? How can you justify uttering the Oath of Office on Friday if you don’t really intend to or know how to honor the commitment?

I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States

The best of your ability will leave us wanting, that’s for sure.

“My friend, you’re weighed in the balance and found wanting
Your kingdom is divided, it can’t stand
You’re weighed in the balance and found wanting
Your houses are built upon the sand”

Sweet Mother of Cheezits I hope someone saves us from you and that it doesn’t turn out to be Mike Pence,


It’s Not Grief, It’s Whattheeverlovingfuck?

November 15, 2016

At first I thought this was grief I was feeling. I’ve seen a ton of articles trying to apply the Kübler-Ross stages of grief to the End of Days brought about by the 2016 election. But we’ve got the stages all wrong for this. We’re not truly experiencing grief and loss, we’re experiencing a never-ending spin cycle of Whatheeverlovingfuck?

Deep down I’m a shallow gal. I don’t like to spend my days worrying about politics, civil rights, and political correctness. I like taking shit for granted. I prefer for my biggest worry to be “Do I look fat in lycra?” and all my crazy to come from Kanye West. Let’s be practical I’ve made it to 50 without a single fucking wrinkle on my face. I really don’t want them to come from this shit. I certainly don’t want to have Breitbart headlines swirling around in my already weirdass dreams about ways to induce miscarriages by bingeing on dark chocolate so no one knows you’re getting an abortion. (Copyright claim right here if I’m right about that shit btw.)

But, instead, we have this constant swinging of the mood pendulum that ranges from “This isn’t going to be so bad.” to “FUCK! We’re all gonna die.” I woke up at 3AM the other day to the sounds of sirens wailing for what turned out to be a shopping center on fire, but my first thought was “WOLVERINES!”

I know smart, rational, well-educated people, who are freaking the fuck out. I have a friend who is in an interracial relationship who is pretty sure the old white guy who lives down the street from her house has started staring at her in a malevolent way since Wednesday. Another friend, who lives deep in the red south wakes up in a cold sweat worrying about the physical safety of her gay son and young daughters. Are they paranoid? That’s as may be, but it doesn’t diminish the experience.  They are on edge and it’s making daily life a challenge. They are suffering from Whattheeverlovingfuck?

The Four Stages of Whattheeverlovingfuck?


Tuesday night we all sat around staring in disbelief at our TV screens as the Plague of Angry White Men spread red across the map of the States.  We swore this wasn’t happening, many went to bed praying that when they woke up Anderson Cooper was going to tell us it was all going to be okay. We pinched ourselves bruised on Wednesday to make sure we were really awake.



This set in when we all watched Hillary give her concession speech, and we realized that while we’d put a major crack in the glass ceiling we weren’t going to have our first female president in 2016. It got worse when we realized that what this loss really meant to those of us who believe in marriage equality, reproductive rights, racial equality, etc… was that we’re about to get ass-fucked without Astroglide or a condom. We’re replaying Kate McKinnon’s Hallelujah video over and over again like teenagers who got dumped on prom nite until we don’t have any snot left.


Scrambling to make sense and meaning out of the chaos of terror, sadness, and our Facebook feed we’ve started signing every petition that comes through. Abolish the Electoral College, Appoint Merrick Garland, 4.3 million of us have begged the Electoral College to honor the popular vote, and for good measure we’re pressuring In-N-Out to get a veggie burger.  We’re clicking all the click-bait we can click in the hopes that something, anything, will get us off the Wheel of Death. But it still keeps spinning.



For the foreseeable future, we’re on this perpetual roller coaster ride. One minute were all thinking  “Bernie’s got our backs. It’s all going to be okay.” And next thing we know Trump has appointed a white supremacist as his top strategist. Obama has tried to make sure we don’t think he’s scared shitless of handing over the keys to the nuclear football to a hot head. We all try to keep our spirits up with Obama/Biden memes, until we find out that Trump wants top-secret security clearances for his smug-as-fuck children.  Even if it is just so they can pee in the West Wing’s bathrooms that sends a resounding shiver down our collective spines. Whattheeverlovingfuck?


And here we sit, mired deeper and deeper in disbelief as the lists of the cabinet appointees swirl through the news cycles. Having conversations we were tired of having before we started having them. Giving each other civics lessons while we wait for the other shoe to drop. If this sounds like you, then yup, you’re in the stages of Whattheverlovingfuck? And in case it skipped your notice, there’s no final stage of acceptance.  It just starts all over again. Like Groundhog Day.