Manifesto!

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from the MacMillan dictionary

Now, I had a big long rant on the mangled orange hellbeast’s ACTUAL FUCKING TREASON that played across a stunned world stage for all to witness. Where hellbeast and Pootie held hands and skipped as they assured each other that no, the Russians had absolutely not interfered in America’s election process.

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Where even Fox News had dissenters on hellbeast! I know!! Hell got a tiny frost for a bit but it will wear off and things will continue as before, don’t even worry, darlings.

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I don’t know who made this but as a fan of Game of Thrones, I snickered a lot and then stopped snickering…yeah.

And the GOP expressed mild irritation over this…and they will fall in line as well, with Pencie actually proclaiming what a success that Helsinki Treason Summit/NATO blitzkreig was and that hellbeast…here, read it yourself.

Our @POTUS is now on his way home from a historic trip to Europe. And the truth is, over the last week, the world saw once again that President Trump stands without apology as the leader of the free world. Mike Pence

After you’re done vomiting…!!!

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My pet eggplant. Isn’t she pretty??

MANIFESTO TIME!

Let’s see.

Number one– I vow to speak up. I don’t need to explain this, right?

Number two— I’m drawing a blank. Oh, get a real job? Redo my resume? Oooh. That would involve…mmm.

Let’s see what’s available in my area. Let’s vow to do that.

Fuck this massive crushing chronic depression and my inability to be around other people for extended periods of time WITHOUT LOSING MY MARBLES.

No, really. I do. I go off the edge into Crazy as a Loon territory, I snarl and cry and shake and panic.

So. Customer service? No. Check out clerk? No. Oooh, waitress? Uh, no. Aide for group homes?

I’ve done that, I do have experience but budgets for those are long gone, and those jobs that used to be advertised all the time…seem to not exist anymore.

School aide? Those seem gone, too. [Kids don’t seem to trigger me as fast as grown ups do.] I could do the night shift at a group home. I’ve done that before.

What, use my degrees and teach? Yeah.

I either don’t have enough experience or am applying in the wrong area, as no one seems to think a playwright would have read Twain or Dickens or Toni Morrison. Or could discuss literary works with a class at college level or something.

Mm. I thought it was just me being a total loser not being able to land a gigantically fantastic, highly paid, totally no work at all involved, teaching gig at some college or university…nope.

Which doesn’t make me feel better as almost everyone I know is working at insurance companies or driving an ambulance while writing or acting or directing on the side…sigh. It’s not just me is no longer the giant comfort it used to be. Not that it ever was. [I know. Be positive and that will magically fix FUCKING EVERYTHING. I know!]

Number three-– I vow to write more. Novels, plays, etc.

No, nix that.

I have a pile of stuff and crap already.

Pretty up the stuff and crap to professional-looking levels [no typos and titles pages, hello.] and get  those sent out.

Which I have not been doing lately as I’m waiting for America to end and kinda concluded there’s no sense sending off Maybelle or excerpts from my cannibal bikers versus the old ladies novel if I have to try and make it to the Canadian border with only some beef jerky and a half-quart of dirty river water to sustain me.

Yes, I do see that future happening. Yes, I do.

Number four— I vow to get outside more. Oh wait.

It’s a thousand degrees here and there’s wildfires all over.

Okay, stand by my mini garden and admire it as I get a sunburn in that five minutes. Coo over my dill plant. Squee over my Greek oregano. Weep gently over how well my squash are producing. Water as needed. Tell the mini garden what a good boy it is, which confuses the dogs. Score!

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Good boy! What a good boy you are! Who’s a good boy?? YOU ARE!

Number five— I vow to be a better friend to the friends I still have.

I might be a near-hermit that makes that guy from the Misanthrope look friendly but I can still be a better friend. Or a better person or something. I just rolled my eyes so obviously, I either need to improve or just scrap this one.

Number six— I vow not to slap people on the left who get hung up on single issues and then refuse to vote or vote a third party or do a protest I’m not gonna vote at all number.

One of those slaps that’s actually a roundhouse that lands them in the ER, where they can’t pay their bills so that is all passed on to everyone else in ‘murica because fuck socialized medicine, it’s got the word ‘socialist’ in it. And that’s, like, bad, m’kay.

If it has a D by the name, you vote for it.

That tactic wins elections for the Republicans, as they vote for the R, regardless if that R is an actual Nazi screaming we need to round up the Jews and fire up the ovens, like, yesterday. Yes, there are actual Nazi-esque sorts running here in America for public office. Right Wing voters vote en masse no matter how stinky the candidate/s might be. They are well trained to do so. That’s how that works. Nobody notices that but me???[ Roy fucking Moore barely lost. Barely! Get it now, you idealistic fucktwats?]

Do I have to give up cussing? No? Thanks!

Number freaking seven— I must give up my Yahoo Answers persona. Did you expect something profound here?? Come on!

It’s an addiction at this point. I could be polishing my rough writing into smooth torpedoes of success and fame but no…I’m answering why atheists eat babies and if evolution is true, why are there still monkeys ‘questions’.

No, not kidding.

If you splash an atheist with holy water, will it cure them? That is an actual question there…see? You want to sneak over there and answer that one yourself.

I must wean myself from that rabbit’s hole of whackadoodles, religious nuts, atheist snarlers and those wide-eyed deer just caught in the too-bright headlights.

*******************************************************************************

I’ll end there.

Seven is more than enough for a Manifesto.

I didn’t vow to destroy the present government with an elaborate scheme of poison sugar cookies and fembots, so there’s that, at least. I know people who could build a fembot–I have friends who build robotics with high school students for competitions.

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from the World Transformed.

I bet a fembot or gynoid, would be no problem for those whiz kids. I can bake sugar cookies and…wow, I’m there.

I’m ready to…yeah. Holy guacamole.

Interesting times indeed we live in.

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Almost night, the moon casting a spooky spell over the spooky old locust tree…just the right touch for a manifesto post

 

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