Skip to content

Welcome to the End Times Bitches

November 14, 2016

It’s day 5 since the American voting public opened the first seal of the Apocalyptic document and the depression hasn’t lifted. The last time I felt this way was 9/11. That general overwhelming sense of loss, anger, revulsion, and futility that you just can’t shake or drink away. Barely awake this morning, not even a cup of bourbon laced coffee in my hands, and the conversation with my girlfriends is a mix of the validity of the Electoral College, explaining to the 30-somethings what Quaaludes are, and shedding tears over Kate McKinnon’s performance of Hallelujah.  Welcome to the End Times bitches.

This sucks and sucks all the harder because we did this to ourselves. We fucked ourselves over and now we’re being asked to be gracious losers. Fuck a bunch of that. I’m told I’m not supposed to say #notmypresident. Well fuck that. He’s not.  The America I want to live in isn’t represented by an emotionally unbalanced bigot. That’s North Korea.  Not the good ole U.S. of A. We were supposed to be better than this, and until I see definitive proof that this asshat has the best interests of EVERY SINGLE MOTHERFUCKING AMERICAN in mind, then I am not willing to accept him as my president.

silver_metal_safety_pins

And can we please get on the same page about protesting and not be bickering amongst ourselves about it? Let’s just agree to support each other, no matter how we choose to voice our dissent? Sweet Mother of Cheezits first it’s good to wear safety pins, and then it is making a statement about white privilege. We’re both celebrated and mocked for marching in protest not just by the alt right who are jerking themselves off frenetically this week, but by our own “side”. This fucking country was born out of protest. Not suppressing speech, even if you don’t like what you’re hearing, is one of the things that separates us from police states and is also what got Donnyboy elected.   The white supremacists have their swastikas and we have safety pins.  Everyone needs something.

I want to move past this. I really do. I’d like to make it through the stages of grief and get to acceptance, but no one is giving me a single fucking reason to do that. In fact, everyone is compounding it. My friends and Facebook feed are sending article after article that both raise and dash hopes. We won the popular vote, but we’re still not going win the election. There are few states that might take the popular vote instead. There might be a loophole to get Garland on the court.  Trump might resign or be impeached. I feel like I’m swirling in a stained toilet bowl and nothing can make me feel clean. Not even 120 proof bourbon.

Maybe a little vintage Letterman will help…

Advertisements
3 Comments leave one →
  1. melantha permalink
    November 14, 2016 5:38 am

    once again, Brilliant! You speak for us all.

  2. November 14, 2016 1:06 pm

    This is everything. Can I share it?

    • November 14, 2016 3:39 pm

      By all means.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: