WORDS OF TRUTH

The other day someone called one of the gentlemen in the backroom a fascist. And I would agree. The fellow in question IS a fascist, and pretty damned reprehensible to boot. As well as a thoroughly loathsome cretin. The individual who correctly identifies fascist(s) is one of the few people in my work environment I respect and like.

I really wish the other one owned a cybertruck.


Of course Jeff, who was also present, spends most of his time vituperatively whining -- he is neither of the two people mentioned above, just a puffy loser married to an ultra-right wing harridan, he's so lucky to find someone nearly his age and his own speed -- and for all the world sounded like he would benefit from being savagely wipped.
Unfortunately I got rid of my riding crop years ago.
But I'm thinking of getting another one.

In case you were wondering the first one wasn't for the horses either.

Of course back then I did not know so many fascists.

In the last eight years they've really come out of their shells. They've left their basements, crawled out from underneath their rocks, been cut loose by their kinfolk, graduated from psychotherapy, stopped taking their medication, and, like Jeff, been divorced and gotten remarried to someone like the evil queen in Snow White. A strident virago.

People with shrunken souls also, apparently, need soulmates.


At least I'm mature enough to just leave it at a totally imaginary soulmate, who is a secular humanist, intelligent, liberal, reserved, and wears big spectacles.
She is happy to be around a pipesmoker.


If she really existed, she'd tell me to poison those people.



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