Tag Archives: being snarky

movies, TV, videos

Repost: Desperate Lives– a delightfully campy anti-drug flick starring Helen Hunt…

I am reposting this old Epinions review, written June 26, 2012, because I mentioned Diana Scarwid today and she was in this movie about drugs in the 80s. I did recently write about Desperate Lives, but that post didn’t include my review… and I worked so hard on that review! So here it is– as/is– for the interested. I had some fun with this writeup, didn’t I?

I grew up in the 1970s and 80s, which means that my childhood was inundated with anti-drug propaganda.  One of the most memorable made for television films from my youth is 1982’s Desperate Lives, starring Doug McKeon, Diana Scarwid, Diane Ladd, and a very young Helen Hunt.  This film has some unintentionally hilarious moments in it, which is why I would ever think of it 30 years later.  Though it has been available on VHS in the past, it eventually went out of print.  I see it’s now being offered for $9.99 on Amazon.com, or you might be able to see it for free on YouTube, which is what I opted to do.  Or, you can just read this review, which will be very snarky and includes all of the major details of the plot.

The plot

Guidance counselor Eileen Phillips (Diana Scarwid) is new blood at a high school where the kids are all stoned.  She wants to do something about all the blatant drug abuse, but the teachers and administrators don’t care.  Can a couple of special students help Eileen convince the kids to stop doing drugs?

A blow by blow… (cuz are you really going to watch this?)

*Spoilers– skip this section if you don’t want them.* Diana Scarwid, who famously played the adult version of Christina Crawford in Mommie Dearest, plays Eileen Phillips, a young guidance counselor.  Just eight years out of high school herself, Eileen Phillips has an annoying, odd, southern accent that sounds like it inspired Eric Cartman fifteen years later.  On her first day on the job, Eileen runs into Scott Cameron (Doug McKeon) in the parking lot.  Scott appears disoriented because he and his sister, Sandy (Helen Hunt), have just taken a ride in a van where other young folks are doing drugs.  Scott apparently has a bit of a contact high.

Eileen immediately takes a shine to 15 year old Scott and asks another guidance counselor if she can trade one of her students for Scott.  Later, we see Scott in Eileen’s office and she tries to talk to him about his future.  But he’s coming down from his high and is angry and irritable.   They have a bonding moment when Eileen implores her new young charge to trust her.

At a pep rally, Eileen is enjoying the band and the cheerleaders until she looks around and spots some unruly boys up in the bleachers shoving stuff up their noses and smoking pot.  The football coach stirs up cheer by telling students they “have to get high”.  As everyone roars approval, he quips “That’s not what I mean…”

Eileen corners the principal, Dr. Jarvis (William Windom), and immediately takes him to task for all the druggies in his school.  Having only been on the job two weeks, Eileen sure doesn’t mind upsetting the apple cart.  Dr. Jarvis doesn’t seem to care.  He continues greeting students as Eileen tries to talk to him about trying to stop all the drug use.  The good principal just can’t be bothered.  Later, we discover that Dr. Jarvis will soon be retiring, which explains his apathy.  He warns Eileen not to rock the boat too much.

Eileen is in the pool with the students when she spots one of them floating.  She shouts for someone to call the paramedics because the young lass isn’t breathing.  Miraculously, after a few seconds of CPR, the young girl starts breathing again.  When Eileen asks what happened, the only response she gets from the other kids is that the girl is just a “dumb doper”. 

The music turns sad and ominous as we end up at Scott and Sandy’s house, where their mom, Carol (Diane Ladd), is setting up for dinner.  Scott starts complaining to his mother, who tells him he hangs out with “a bad class of people”.  Scott gets p!ssed and storms out of the house as Carol calls to him to come back.  But Sandy tells her to let Scott go out and blow off some steam… or maybe just to score some blow.  Later, when Sandy tries to talk to Scott, he calls her a b!tch and accuses her of being a doper, too.  But Sandy says she only “experiments”; she’s not a drug fiend.

The familiar strains of an 80s era arcade play and I hear the sounds of Donkey Kong.  Scott’s there to pick up a stash from his dealer, Ken (Sam Bottoms).  Ken apparently sees himself in Scott and recruits him to help him sell drugs.  He shows Scott his car and apartment, offers Scott a beer, and tells him to open a briefcase he got handmade in Italy, which Scott pronounces as “gnarly”.  The dealer doesn’t drink or drug, but he likes his money.  He sees the same qualities in Scott as he introduces him to a lucrative life in designer Jordache jeans!   

There’s more ominous music as the scene shifts.  Poor Carol is in bed with her husband, John (Tom Atkins), lamenting about how crappy Scott is.  The parents are losing control of their kids and hating it.  Dad can’t reach Scott, but he can keep a 16 hour a day job at the post office so he can pay the bills.

Scott is soon approached by a pretty 15 year old girl named Susan (Tricia Cast) who’s heard he sells drugs.  He doesn’t want to sell her any drugs, but she tells him “everybody else is doing it”.  Ahh… famous last words.

Eileen busts a group of b!tchy teen girls in the girl’s bathroom, who are sitting in there getting high.  They tell her the same thing… that everybody does it.  But Eileen isn’t having it.  Her voice is low with disapproval as she reminds the teens that she’s been around and knows what’s going on. 

Next, we see Sandy in the chemistry lab with her boyfriend, Steve (Grant Cramer) a cutie pie football player.  He’s got some PCP and wants to celebrate their six week anniversary.  Sandy tries to resist, but Steve lays on the peer pressure.  She snorts; he kisses her.  Then we flip back to Scott as he asks out Susan, the cute girl who wanted to buy drugs from him. 

Suddenly, we hear ungodly screams and shattering glass as we see Sandy jump out a second story window!  Under the influence of that PCP, Sandy has landed on the ground, screaming and writhing, miraculously with no apparent broken bones, cuts, or even bruises.  Scott wrestles Sandy to the ground and she goes limp as she passes out.  When a student says that only the crazies act like this, Eileen screams that she’s glad everyone’s so sane.  Yes, this is one of the unintentionally hilarious parts of this film.

Eileen Phillips is now lamenting that the problem is overwhelming.  Her boyfriend, Stan (Art Hindle), is annoyed because Eileen is too much into her job.  He’s especially irritated when Eileen asks Stan if he minds if Scott joins them on their bike date that weekend.  Eileen wants to show Scott a “new way to get high”.  And Stan reluctantly agrees to being cock-blocked by a drug addicted adolescent.

Eileen takes Scott fishing and finds out that Scott has a sense of humor.  Then they’re with Stan as appropriately cheesy 80s music plays while they ride their bikes without helmets and take crazy risks doing stunts.  They have a good day, but Scott still has a dark side. 

In the very next scene, he’s snorting a couple of lines of cocaine just as he’s about to practice swimming.  He does a lap, then his cute little girlfriend, Susan shows up.  They talk about drugs and Scott is annoyed that she’s on something.  It seems the young lady has a complex about being like “Little Bo Peep” and thinks drugs will help her grow up.   

Next Ken, the nasty drug dealer, is shown roughing up Julie (Michele Greene) one of his female teenaged clients, who begs him to supply her with something.  But he heartlessly shoves her aside, refusing to hook her up.  Then, just as Ken is about to leave, Scott shows up and confronts the drug dealer, telling him to stay away from his girlfriend.  I’m wondering if Scott is just hoping there will be more for him.     

Eileen Phillips, still taking her job very seriously, tracks down the drug dealer and confronts him.  I can’t help but think Eileen is a dummy, messing with a drug dealer without any backup.  These were the days before cell phones after all.  But the dealer is surprisingly mellow… until the two of them find Julie, the shrieking young girl the dealer had kicked out, dead on the floor of his apartment.  She has committed suicide.

At swim practice, Eileen pulls Scott aside and reads him the riot act.  They have an argument as Eileen tells Scott that he’s a doper.  Scott finally breaks down and tells her he has to do something to get away from “all the crap”.  And Eileen, in all her wisdom, tells Scott to try a movie or a book.  Somehow, I can’t imagine that advice is going to go very far with the average drug addict.

Then at a faculty meeting, Eileen delivers a sermon about all the druggie kids at the school, and poor dead Julie is a good way to raise the issue with the kids.  Here, we see Dr. Joyce Brothers in a cameo, playing Mrs. Watson, a woman who couldn’t care less about the drug problems and wants to discuss band uniforms.

Over Thanksgiving dinner, Scott’s family is trying to engage him.  But he passes out, his face landing in his plate full of turkey and mashed potatoes.  Then as Eileen and Stan have a picnic, they argue because Eileen is too hung up on the druggie teens and doesn’t care enough about their relationship. 

Sandy, now sporting black eyes and casts on her arm and leg, takes Scott out for a walk.  He tells her he’s taken Quaaludes and that’s why he passed out over dinner.  Sandy tries to talk Scott out of using drugs, but Scott takes off on his skateboard, leaving poor gimpy Sandy standing there.

As Scott is angrily skateboarding down the street, the music turns hopeful.  Susan pulls up in her car.  She’s fifteen, so she’s clearly driving illegally.  The window rolls down and Scott calls her “Sandy” instead of Susan.  Oops!  She invites him to get in the car with her.  They decide to go up to the mountains.  While they drive, Susan tells Scott to open the glove compartment, where she’s stashed some primo angel dust.  Susan reassures Scott that this angel dust is “clean” and they can enjoy it without worrying about freaking out like Sandy did.  The two have an annoying conversation, peppered with some very contrived sounding teen lingo.  They light up while Susan is driving and the two of them are completely out of it as the road grows curvier.  Finally, Susan is stoned out of her mind and still driving… neither is wearing a seatbelt, mind you, as Susan’s car goes through the guard rail and down an embankment.  Another unintentionally hilarious moment happens as we see a very cheesy special effect.  The windshield cracks, but it looks like it was done in cartoon rather than for real!

Eileen comes to the hospital.  Thunder rolls and it’s pouring outside.  Eileen introduces herself to Scott’s parents, who have gathered around their son’s hospital bed.  We see Scott looking out of it, his hands restrained in leather straps.  Scott has a nasty concussion and doesn’t even ask about Susan, his darling girlfriend who has perished in the crash. 

It’s Christmas time, two weeks after his Thanksgiving accident.  Scott still doesn’t know what’s happened.  Eileen visits him at his home.  Scott asks what happened.  Eileen tries to change the subject, but he presses her for details.  Eileen tells Scott that “God has a way of blocking painful memories from our minds so that we don’t replay them over and over again…”  Not sure God has a lot to do with it, but it sounds good.  Eileen talks to Scott’s mom and I have to say, Diane Ladd does a good job playing the anguished mom, wondering how she ended up with two druggie kids.  Later that night, Scott wakes up screaming like a banshee as he realizes his cute girlfriend, Susan, is dead.  He’s hysterical as he throws a chair through the window.  Is it the drugs or grief?  The paramedics come to take Scott away, presumably for a shot of Thorazine.

Eileen reflects on what’s happened to her favorite student.  She has finally had enough.  During a Christmas assembly, Eileen goes through a bunch of lockers and collects a bunch of drug stashes.  She puts it all on a cart and pushes the cart into the gynmasium, where she proceeds to burn the drugs in front of everyone.  I can’t help but wonder how the burning drugs don’t make everyone high,  but I guess the writers were going for a dramatic effect.  On another note, the fact that there’s a Christmas assembly and the choir is singing a religious song really shows how dated this film is.  In any case, after Eileen collects all the drugs, I’m left thinking this was one stoned school! 

Eileen delivers another unintentially hilarious speech in front of the student body as she lists all of the students who have been maimed or killed thanks to drugs.  She’s presumably sober when she does this.  Just say no, kids!  And shockingly, Eileen’s speech seems to get through to everybody!  One by one, the students come up to the burning cart with drugs on it and drops more into the flames, apparently just because of Eileen Phillips’ speech.  A round of applause erupts as the kids decide to go straight.  I wonder if they’ll still be straight tomorrow or the next day, but the ending does at least allow this film to end on a triumphant note.

My thoughts

Desperate Lives was obviously meant to be a very serious film.  I know it was shown at schools in the 1980s as a way to dissuade students from taking illegal drugs.  But I have to say, Diana Scarwid’s performance is pretty trippy.  I was impressed by some of the other actors, namely Doug McKeon and Helen Hunt, who are clearly much too talented for this tripe. 

I don’t think this film is particularly effective, despite its strong anti-drug propaganda bent.  The dramatic moments go way too far, which makes this movie too over the top to be taken seriously.  Yes, it’s true that some people ruin their lives over drugs.  But Desperate Lives only shows the most drastic and dramatic pitfalls to drug abuse peppered with the Valley Girl speak that was so popular in the early 1980s.  From the moment we see Helen Hunt jumping out of a window, screaming her head off, it’s very clear some of these scenes are intended to shock and scare straight.  And what they ultimately end up doing is making viewers laugh.  Or at least they make ME laugh.  At least we’re spared seeing these kids in rehab.

Overall   

This is your typical 80s era movie of the week.  I watch this and wonder if people were really that simple in the 80s.  I can’t imagine today’s teens taking this movie seriously at all.  If you watch it, you will probably laugh.  I certainly wouldn’t spend money on this film, but it’s fun for a laugh on YouTube.

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Duggars

Another Duggar has wed… Make way for Jed and Katey!

But this time, it seems like it was done on the down low. Jedidiah Duggar, who was being affectionately called “Twin Bed Jed” last year, as he unsuccessfully ran for a seat in the Arkansas State House of Representatives, has married the former Katey Nakatsu. Their wedding was an outdoor affair that took place in Arkansas, with scores of people in attendance. Jed’s twin brother, Jeremiah, was his best man. Katey’s sister, Lauren, served as maid of honor.

It hasn’t escaped my notice that this pair got married the day before Easter. Maybe it’s because Jed’s ready to “give rise” to a sex life. Or maybe he’d like his political aspirations to be “reborn”. He might be taken more seriously in the political arena if he has a home and a family, right? Especially if his wife is beautiful, which Katey certainly is.

Pickles, who runs the Duggar Family News page and group on Facebook, says that the vows the pair exchanged were traditional and full of what she calls “misogynistic” and “submissive” crap. I am not surprised, and I’m sure it won’t be long before they start having babies. Below is a screenshot:

As my college friend, Chris, would say… “R” (R stands for ROTTEN)

I don’t know much about Katey, except that she’s originally from Arizona, and her family recently moved to Arkansas, much like Lauren Swanson’s family did before Lauren married Josiah Duggar. I did read that Katey’s dad is fond of the letter “K”… or so it appears, as his name is Korey; his first wife’s name is Kim (she’s Katey’s mom); and his second wife’s name is Kerry. Also, Katey apparently has a half-brother who is gay and has his own hair salon in Los Angeles. If that’s true, I think it’s cool. The Duggars need more diversity in their clan.

I also read that Boob gifted Jed a house. It’s a 2000 square foot home located just four miles from the Duggar compound and it has three bedrooms and 2.5 bathrooms. I suppose that’s plenty of room for the Jed Duggar family to start growing. It’s bigger than the Seewald abode, which used to belong to Josh and Anna Duggar. Jessa and Ben Seewald have been in that house for several years now. They have three kids– two boys and a girl– and another baby on the way. But their house only has two bedrooms. I think Jessa’s husband, Ben, is trying to become a pastor. Well, it’s “past time” for the pastor to get bigger digs for his growing brood. But that’s just my social worker side coming out to play.

Jed’s wedding comes a month after his younger brother, 18 year old Justin, married the former Claire Spivey. I quit watching Counting On a few years ago, because it had just gotten too boring for me. However, I have noticed that the weddings aren’t getting as much pomp and circumstance anymore. Maybe TLC has finally decided to axe this show… or they’ve just relegated the Duggars to Discovery+, which I think is a pay per view service. I don’t know… I’m so far out of the loop over here in Germany.

I wouldn’t ordinarily write about this topic, but I can’t think of anything else to write about today that wouldn’t be snarky, petty, or bitchy. And since it’s Easter, I figure it’s better to write about a religious event. I suspect the latest Duggar wedding was held outside because of COVID-19, but I’m sure it was otherwise like any other Duggar event.

On another note… have you noticed how popular the name “Lauren” is these days? Or maybe it was popular twenty or thirty years ago. It seems like there are so many Laurens out there now… and Kaylas, too. I even have a cousin named Kayla. It’s like the name “Jennifer” in my era. I know personally about “Jennifer”, because that’s the name my mom gave me. I’ve always hated it, which is why I go by “Jenny”. I only like that name a little bit more, mainly because I’m more of a “Jenny” personality wise. Jennifer is too formal for the likes of me.

Anyway, the Duggar family has a lot of ties to Laurens. There’s Lauren Swanson Duggar, who is Josiah’s wife, Lauren Caldwell, who is Kendra Caldwell Duggar’s sister, Jessa Seewald’s middle name is “Lauren”, and now we have Katey Nakatsu Duggar’s sister, Lauren. Those are just off the top of my head. There are probably more Laurens in the mix that I’ve either overlooked or haven’t yet discovered, not that I’d take the time.

I have developed an unfortunate aversion to the name “Lauren”, much like I’ve developed an aversion to the name “Sabrina”. Sabrina is the name of my husband’s ex wife, who is a skank of the first order… (sorry, seems a little petty bitchiness has slipped in, anyway). Actually, calling her a skank is being quite nice, especially after what we’ve recently found out about her. But I digress…

I know some people think I’m being awful when I “trash” Sabrina. I’m sure it seems that way to anyone who doesn’t know our story. But trust me… if you only knew the backstory and the illegal and immoral shit she’s done, you’d know I’m being exceedingly kind when I refer to her as a “skank”. She really should be in prison. That’s neither an exaggeration, nor a joke. And Easter is a special day for Bill, because it was on Easter that she demanded a divorce while staying at Bill’s dad’s house, but didn’t actually mean to get a divorce. Happily, Bill took her up on it, and here we are, 21 years later. 😀 We’re living the good life!

Well, I truly hope Jed and his new bride are very happy together, and they have many wonderful years of wedded bliss. I pray that they don’t let Boob intrude too much in their personal business. And I hope that Katey’s first roll in the sack wasn’t too painful or messy. Sorry… there’s that petty bitchiness rearing its ugly head. Must be the onset of menopause working its devilish magic again. 😉

Happy Easter, everybody. And just to show that I’m not a total creep, here’s a video I made yesterday, starring Noyzi the wonder pup from Kosovo!

I love Beth Nielsen Chapman’s songs.

There’s a lot I’d like to rant and rave about… hence the recent protected post. I wish I could make it public, but a certain “Lauren” in my life has reminded me that there are a lot of literal creeps in the world who don’t want to try to understand. Anyone who’s curious and not a creep can always request the password.

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complaints, condescending twatbags, rants, religion

“He needs to attach his ass to a Soloflex… PERMANENTLY!”

Apparently, we should all aspire to look like Melania, scowl-face, Trump…

Today’s blog post title is a direct quote uttered by my old friend, Jamie, back in the early 1990s. At the time, we were working at Busch Gardens, wearing ugly, polyester, fake lederhosen uniforms. The uniforms were as unflattering as they were uncomfortable, and had an unfortunate tendency to give us wedgies. We had a co-worker who usually suffered more than most in the heat and humidity of Virginia’s summers. Glancing over at our obviously out of shape colleague, who was dripping sweat and had recently annoyed us by being authoritative out of turn, my friend said, “He needs to attach his ass to a Soloflex.”

I probably said something inane like, “You mean he needs to work out on a Soloflex?”

“No, I mean he needs to attach his ass to one. PERMANENTLY.” Jamie snarled.

I had a good laugh at Jamie’s snark. I’ve always enjoyed his quips, which are usually acidly witty, occasionally shocking, and uniformly hilarious. I remember years later, I shared an article with him about how French men supposedly need the largest condoms in Europe. And Jamie said something along the lines of, “Well that only stands to reason, since they are the biggest dicks.”

Sometimes, I wish I could come up with obnoxious zingers so quickly. On the other hand, I do have my moments. Especially when I’m in a certain mood.

Hey Pastor Clark… here’s something for you to think about.

So what brings up today’s topic? It’s this post I read today about a pastor in Missouri who advises his female congregants to “look pretty” so their husbands won’t go astray. This dude, Stewart-Allen Clark, who looks like he ought to “attach his ass to a Soloflex… PERMANENTLY!”, as Jamie would say, told the ladies of his flock to lose weight, look hotter, and submit to their husbands’ sexual desires, so they won’t stray. And he said this with a straight face, as he looks a bit like ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag himself. Clark also told the ladies to wear makeup, choose appropriate hairstyles, dress up, and avoid looking “butch”.

Here’s the sermon in question.

This guy, walking around looking like a fucking slob, says it’s “really important” for a man to have a “beautiful woman” on his arm. He says that to your man, you “should be the most beautiful woman in the world.” Then he goes on to talk about how women “let themselves go” after they get married. Then he qualifies and says, “I know not every woman can look like a Melania Trump trophy wife… maybe you’re more of a ‘participation trophy.'”

Here’s a little mood music for Pastor Stewart-Allen Clark and his ilk.

Wow…

And as I listen to this guy speak, I can’t help but notice he ain’t no great shakes himself. And there “ain’t nothin’ attractive” about a big fat slob on a stage spouting off sexist bullshit about how women look as he talks about how “visual” men are. He says, “God made men to be drawn to ‘beautiful women'”.”

This showed up in my Facebook memories yesterday. How apropos! Guys, it goes both ways.

What qualifies a woman as “beautiful”? I know some women that most people would consider quite plain in terms of their physical appearances. It has nothing to do with their being lazy. They just weren’t blessed with what many people would consider classically attractive looks. And yet, in many ways, they are still beautiful because of some other quality that doesn’t immediately meet the eye. They’re intelligent, or quick witted, or talented in some way. They have a kind heart; or they’re generous. They’re good cooks or athletic or easy to talk to. There are so many ways a person can be “beautiful”, and not all of them are limited to the physical.

On the other hand, I can think of some women that many people consider beautiful, but they’re not good people. They’re dishonest, or narcissistic, or manipulative. They’re disloyal or irresponsible or mean. Lots of people are attracted to them because they’re nice to look at. But the minute you start speaking to them, you find out they’re shallow and callous. And they’re not much fun to be around because of that.

Pastor Clark goes on to admit that he doesn’t do marriage counseling anymore because a lot of times, when married people would come to him for advice about intimacy, he would be brutally honest and upset the wives. He says one couple came to him. She looked like a “sumo wrestler” and he was a “little guy”. The guy said he wasn’t attracted to his wife because she was a fat “beeeep”. The woman then proceeded to beat the crap out of him. Then she lost 100 pounds and got pregnant with their second child… which would, of course, cause her to gain weight.

But, I mean, seriously… Clark excuses men for looking like the Michelin Man and being all sweaty and gross. Then he says that his wife used to be quite “robust”… then someone corrects him with the word “healthy”. Oh yes, “thank you!” he says.

Then he says that she knows he looks at other women. She wants him to look at her, and nobody else. So she lost a lot of weight and goes around saying, “Food never tastes as good as skinny feels.” Clark says he’s glad that his wife understands that all men are this way… and he also loves make up. Apparently, all men like make up, too. And you don’t want to be “ugly” and “stink”… or look butch. Because God forbid you smell of hormones or sweat or menstrual fluid… or any of the other body fluids we all encounter. Don’t ruin the illusion of beauty, girls, by letting your men know that you have to shit, too.

But then I look at Clark and hope his wife doesn’t get crushed under him or repelled by his body odor and bad breath. He really ought to take his own advice… especially as he talks about how women gain weight because of thyroid and prostate problems. Hello? I don’t know any women who have prostate glands. Then he bitches about how women “always” cut their hair after they get married.

The Bible does come up. He says that men should post this on the headboards of their beds:

1 Corinthians 7:4

The wife does not have authority over her own body but yields it to her husband. In the same way, the husband does not have authority over his own body but yields it to his wife.

How egalitarian! But I don’t hear Clark saying that men need to look their best for their wives. I only hear him berating women for not trying hard enough… (heh heh, I said hard…) to make their men hard by looking “hawt”. And that’s the only way to keep them from straying. I also don’t hear Clark emphasizing that second part AT ALL. He’s probably a lay preacher… (heh heh, I said lay…)

I’m really lucky. My husband is a wonderful, classy, and loving man. He is intelligent, sensitive, evolved, and loyal. And he appreciates me for the way I am. I know he does. I don’t know how I got so lucky. But then, Bill didn’t choose me after seeing me across a crowded room. He chose me because I engaged his mind first. He appreciated my imagination, my sense of humor, my ability to keep him interested and the fact that I was just as interested in him. And Bill is smart enough to know that the sexiest part of anyone is not something you can see externally. It’s the mind… it’s what’s inside that matters most. I also know that Bill has already been divorced and doesn’t want to divorce again.

When the situation calls for it, yes, I do gussy up. When we go out to a nice restaurant that doesn’t require PPE, I’ll put on a dress and makeup. I fix my hair and wear jewelry. So does Bill. We still look like a cute couple, too. But if I’m just going to hang out with the dogs all day, no I’m not putting on makeup for that. I’ll be clean and brush my teeth and hair and take care of all of that other hygiene stuff. Bill doesn’t mind. He never has, because he’s a man of substance who sees beneath the surfaces of everyone. He’s probably a much better man than I deserve, to be honest.

I know there are a lot of men out there who are like Pastor Clark, though. They aren’t attracted to women who don’t “meet their standards” or ring their chimes sexually. And then, when they get older and their wives get tired of being told how fat and ugly and unappealing they are, a lot of the men wind up alone. My mom is single now. She’s happy that way. A few years ago, she decided to do a river cruise in Europe. She got many offers from men to accompany her. She declined. After years of taking care of my dad and putting up with his shit, she’s much happier on her own. Believe me, I can tell.

Rosie O’Donnell makes sense… and Donald Trump hates her for it. I’m sure that Pastor Stewart-Allen Clark does, too. Incidentally, Bill has told me his favorite parts of my body are my eyes… followed by my boobs. But if I lose my boobs because of cancer or something, I expect he’ll still love me anyway.

Anyway… I’m glad I don’t go to Pastor Clark’s church. I think he’s a hypocrite, and I don’t like hypocrisy. I hear what he’s saying about the importance of physical attraction. That is important. But it’s a two way street, and there has to be a lot more to the relationship than just physical attraction. Otherwise, you’re gonna get bored. Real women are better than fake ones… and after awhile, real women get tired of having to put on makeup, curling their hair, starving themselves, and whatever else simply to keep a man’s attention. Especially guys like Pastor Stewart-Allen Clark, who needs to attach his ass AND his mouth to a Soloflex… PERMANENTLY.

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politics, Trump

Political potty parity story leaves me pissed…

The featured photo was taken at a bar in Nagold, BW, Germany. Maybe it would have been a good solution for the Secret Service to have a row of toilets in the woods.

Having to eliminate human waste is a universal experience. Everybody poops. Everybody pees. Sometimes, we need to vomit. It’s just a fact of life. I would think that even people like Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner would understand that when you gotta go, you gotta go. But according to a report shared by the Washington Post, Jared and Ivanka have been less than empathetic toward their Secret Service detail regarding their need for a place to rest.

Although much ado was made about how Donald Trump supposedly donated his presidential salary of $400,000, it’s no secret that he’s made a lot of money off of U.S. taxpayers. And, thanks to his daughter’s unwillingness to dedicate one of the 6.5 bathrooms in her rented Kalorama home for the use of the Secret Service, taxpayers also paid $3000 a month for a rented studio basement apartment across the street. When the lease on the apartment expires in September 2021, taxpayers will have paid $144,000 to a homeowner in Washington, DC. Why? So that members of the Secret Service could take a piss without inconveniencing the Kushners, the neighbors, or using the facilities in restaurants.

I read about this situation last night and, frankly, it really *pissed* me off. I shared the post with the comment that I hate the Trumps. That’s no lie. I do pretty much hate them, although I have tried not to say it out loud. For four years, I’ve watched that family treat other human beings with gross indignity and contempt as they’ve lied repeatedly and done all they can to stay in power against the will of the people. As I’ve mentioned before, one of the things I’ve repeatedly heard from Trump’s champions is that he is just “like them” and speaks like them. But really, he’s not like them at all. He is a tacky, vulgar, inhumane, jackass, who doesn’t care about anyone but himself, and it appears that his daughter and son-in-law are much like Trump is… with no regard for other people and their most basic of needs.

Most people I know who work for a living and lead a “simple” lifestyle are basically decent and kind. If someone needed to go to the bathroom, they wouldn’t deny them. If someone was obviously hungry or thirsty or needed medical assistance, they’d do what they could to help. Trump doesn’t have that basic regard for others. He never has. The proof has been documented for many decades, and it appears that the shit has rolled downhill into Ivanka’s generation. To me, the Trumps have always had an elitist attitude, and yet they are extremely tacky people with no class. And this article in the Washington Post, while admittedly a bit biased, seemed to really highlight that attitude. And yes, even if the article was a bit salacious and I “fell for it”, God help me, I do think that forcing taxpayers to pay $3000 a month for an apartment so the Secret Service can do their business is totally tacky and not a good look.

I was pretty surprised when someone claimed that the article I shared was “click bait” and consisted of sloppy reporting. This person seemed to feel that the lack of restroom facilities for the Secret Service was much ado about nothing. According to the Post’s article, White House spokesperson Judd Deere claimed that the Kushners had nothing but the greatest respect for the Secret Service men and women who are tasked with protecting them. Supposedly, their home was wide open to the Secret Service if there was a need– or, at least that’s what Deere claims.

And yet, even though the Kushners supposedly have great respect for the Secret Service, U.S. taxpayers still had to pay $3000 a month for them to have access to a bathroom when the Kushners’ home already has over half a dozen bathrooms in it. This happened, even though Republicans often crow about how the government needs to control its spending and not pass unnecessary expenses to taxpayers. In other words, a lot of money was being pissed away so that the Secret Service members could take a piss in peace.

The Secret Service had attempted to remedy the lack of a potty situation by erecting a portable toilet near the Trump/Kushner abode. Naturally, the port-a-let was not well received in the tony neighborhood, so that solution was short lived. I can’t say I blame the neighbors for not liking the porta-potty in their neighborhood, although personally, I would prefer to see that over someone taking a piss in the woods. In Germany, that’s a pretty common sight, especially during traffic jams or at rest stops that charge 70 cents to use the facilities.

Next, the Secret Service used a toilet in a garage at former President Obama’s residence, which was nearby. The Obama family’s security detail had managed to set up a break area on site, since the Obamas had an out building they weren’t using. However, apparently, one of the Secret Service people from the Kushner family’s detail left a mess that they neglected to clean up. So that made them unwelcome to use the toilet at the Obama family’s house.

Then, they started using a toilet a mile away at Mike Pence’s residence at the Naval Observatory, where there was a guardhouse with a toilet in it. Or, they would visit restaurants and use the facilities there. The ultimate solution finally came when a homeowner in the Kushners’ neighborhood offered up the basement in a house near the Kushners’ home that she had already rented out. The tenant in that house agreed to let the basement be sectioned off for the Secret Service’s use if the rent was reduced. It was– and the homeowner, who says she’s “happy to have been able to have helped” pocketed another $3000 a month for the use of her 820 square foot apartment.

Now… don’t get me wrong. I can certainly understand why the Kushners wouldn’t want the Secret Service in their personal space. I wouldn’t like that, either. However, government positions are supposed to be about service to the American people. I do think it’s ridiculous that $144,000 of taxpayer money was spent simply so that the Secret Service could have a place to do their very necessary business, especially when the Kushners have more bathrooms than family members. Seems to me they could have either moved to a home that was better set up for the necessary Secret Service detail, or they could have made arrangements to accommodate them in a way that didn’t burden taxpayers. But, like everything else in the Trump administration, it seems that little thought was given to the American people or just plain being humane to people working for the Trump family.

I might not have been so *pissed* about this situation if the Trump family hadn’t, all along, been all about enriching themselves at taxpayer expense. I think about all of the trips to Trump owned properties that taxpayers have paid for, as well as the less than gracious way Trump has behaved regarding his election loss, and it just disgusts me. I’ve heard about how the Trumps would “make America great again”, but all I’ve seen from them is vulgarity and a complete disconnect from understanding people’s most basic needs. Using the bathroom is definitely a basic need, and I think Trump and Kushner should have done more to see that the people working for them were taken care of in a more dignified and humane and less expensive way.

Personally, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with the way the story was written, although I suppose an argument could be made that the reporting was, perhaps, a bit biased. On the other hand, news stories are written by human beings, and almost all human beings have thoughts and emotions. I also think that a lot of us are just fed up with the Trump family, and exhausted by the COVID-19 life in general. I know I am. I’m just tired of it all right now, and I don’t even have it that bad. Maybe it’s my fault for putting my thoughts out there, though, since people are always going to chime in.

Perhaps a more fact based article from The Washington Post, devoid of any shades of the reporters’ personal opinions, would have been technically better. Given the events of the past couple of months, I guess I’m more prepared to give reporters a pass for not just strictly “reporting the facts, Ma’am”. I also think that even if the article hadn’t been written the way it was, I would have come to the same conclusion that I did. I don’t necessarily want or need to hear that something I’m legitimately upset about is “silly” or that I’ve fallen for “click bait”. No one likes to have their opinions discounted, particularly in a public forum, and especially on their own space.

Anyway, the person’s parting shot was, “personally, I’d rather read your blog.” Maybe I’m oversensitive. I’ll own that. But I do think it’s disrespectful to be snarky toward a so-called friend who is clearly upset about something, especially on their space. I didn’t take that comment as a compliment and would prefer that this person not do me any favors.

Things are tough all over and they don’t seem to be getting any better. I should probably just hang out with dogs.

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Trump

“Shut up, Pee Wee. Let the adults talk.”

After being kind of downtrodden over the past few days, I was in a playful mood last night. Bill and I had dinner, and we were drinking wine and talking about the day’s events. I spotted an article on the Army Times’ Facebook page about retired Admiral William McRaven’s recent op-ed piece for the New York Times. I will admit that I haven’t read the op-ed or even the story the Army Times shared. I only read the headline. A lot of people do this, including me. I don’t like to encourage people to make comments about an article they haven’t read, although I did notice this quote, which is what made me take interest in the first place:

“As I stood on the parade field at Fort Bragg, one retired four-star general, grabbed my arm, shook me and shouted, ‘I don’t like the Democrats, but Trump is destroying the Republic!’” McRaven wrote in a New York Times opinion piece.

I felt like Bender last night.

Instead of reading the article, I felt compelled to read some of the Facebook comments in response to the story about Admiral McRaven. I’m not even sure why that was. There are times when I can’t resist reading the comments posted on the military news sites. Sometimes, they’re hilarious. Sometimes, they’re infuriating and borderline moronic. I can think of other subjects that I’d definitely be more excited about than McRaven’s op-ed, yet I still felt like seeing what the military masses had to say about this. Sure enough, some guy last night, obviously a person who also never bothered to read the article, made some comment about how he didn’t like McRaven because McRaven didn’t think he should be allowed to own an AR 15.

An AR 15 is, of course, a weapon expressly designed for killing people. And, in case you haven’t noticed, we have a huge problem with gun violence in the United States. Lots and lots of people have died– many of them children and teenagers– because of the obsession some people have with owning firearms. The AR 15 is a prominent culprit in a lot of those mass shooting deaths. And yet, many people– typically southern, “God fearing” white men with Trump proclivities– feel they must own one of these weapons.

If I had been in a more serious and contemplative mood, I might have tried to have a reasonable discussion with the guy who is annoyed with McRaven for wanting to take away his big gun. But instead, I was just really bored by his attitude, which is shared by so many people who claim to be Christians, yet enjoy destroying people and things with their macho guns. I suggested that he go play with his (preferably loaded) AR 15 and let the adults talk.

Just as I expected, the guy came back and immediately accused me of being a Clinton loving “lefty” who watches The View. Rather than trying to correct this guy– because obviously he doesn’t know me or care about my opinions, and has drawn his own wrong conclusions– I wrote that he was a “load that should have been swallowed” and that must be hard. In fact, it’s probably the “hardest” thing about him. Yeah, I know. Not very nice. Not kind or respectful. Kind of a cheap shot.

I don’t know what got into me, really. I don’t often respond so disrespectfully, even to people who clearly deserve it. But as I was typing my rather nasty and déclassé response, and before he’d even had a chance to see it, the guy posted that he went to my Facebook page (creepy)… and I skipped over the rest of his long-winded comment until I got to his last sentence… which read “And I hope that pisses you off.” Then, after he read my gross comment about how he should have been swallowed, he made a comment about how I lack “class”.

Well, okay… I’ll own that. It’s not “classy” to tell someone they are a “load that should have been swallowed”, although I’ll bet a lot of military men have no issues whatsoever saying stuff like that to each other– it’s only nasty when a woman says or writes it, right? Then Bill jumped in and wrote that I’m not a Trump or Clinton fan– which is the truth. I’m also quite centrist in my political leanings. Meanwhile, I was wondering what information that man might have gleaned from my Facebook page, given that most of it is pretty well locked down. He might have seen the name of my blog, which probably really disgusted him, since he likely believes education is wasted on women. He probably saw a lot of pictures of my dogs, too. From that, he’s incorrectly gleaned that I’m a clueless bimbo who watches morning TV and aligns my views with women on a talk show.

Bill said he went on the guy’s page and noticed there were a lot of pictures of sunrises in Florida, along with weepy comments wondering how anyone could doubt there is a God in the face of such natural beauty. I wonder how this man could profess to be a God loving person who cherishes all of the things God made, yet he wants to own a weapon expressly made for killing human beings. Didn’t God create man? Doesn’t this God loving “load that should have been swallowed” value the God-created beauty in his fellow man? Does he only love the scenery God made? Or just people who look, think, and believe the same way he does?

Shut up, peewee.
I am not ashamed to admit that I was channeling Mr. Vernon…

Anyway… he came back with another retort, but by that time, I was losing both my patience and interest in trolling him. I posted, “Shut up, Pee Wee. Let the adults talk.” And that was about the end of our enlightened chat, because it was getting late and Bill’s eyes were drooping.

Maybe I shouldn’t be proud of what I did last night. I don’t regularly bait people like that. It’s not often I engage people on Facebook anymore, because it’s usually a waste of time. I’ve found that most people are set in their opinions, and being behind a keyboard emboldens them to be disrespectful. Disrespectful people piss me off, so I don’t bother arguing on social media because I want to protect my peace. I’d rather rant about this stuff in my blog for those who actually want to read it. But last night, I was in a rare mood. It was all about fun and games. I was laughing maniacally as I insulted this poorly endowed Trumper who tried to appeal to my ego by accusing me of being a View watching “lefty” and lacking “class”.

Who gives a shit if he thinks I have no class? I think it’s far classier for a person to tell someone they are a “load that should have been swallowed” than it is to admire weapons that can kill dozens of people within seconds while simultaneously professing to love God. As Rhonda Vincent once sang, “You don’t love God if you don’t love your neighbor.” And I don’t think I need to waste time on diplomacy with such a person, particularly if I have a bee in my bonnet and a belly full of beer (or wine, as the case may be)!

I am not a particularly religious person, but I do admire great musicians. Rhonda Vincent and The Rage rock! And dammit, if you honestly profess to love God, you shouldn’t want to own weapons expressly designed for destroying God’s creations– especially your neighbors. On another note, this video makes me want to go home to America and listen to live bluegrass.

Although I don’t think being overtly rude is generally the right way to behave, there are times when it’s more productive to simply have fun with these types of people. I can’t change their minds with reason, so I might as well have a good laugh. I’ve found that one of the quickest and easiest ways to piss off a gun toting Trumper, particularly those with military ties, is to make fun of their sexual prowess, or lack thereof. Then, after I make a really nasty comment that would never disgust them if it came from a man, I simply ignore everything they say and accuse them of needing a big gun to compensate for their small dicks. They usually then try to retort, but I reiterate that they can’t satisfy anyone with their little peckers and that’s why they’re so mad at the world that they need a big gun that makes big explosions. If they had someone who would happily blow them, maybe they’d be less bitter about life and hell bent on blowing up stuff. Who knows?

An even better and potentially more effective way to piss off this type of person is to simply agree with all of their insults with just a hint of sass. I’ve seen many an insecure boy/man melt down into rage when they think I don’t take them or their insults seriously. However, I will admit that I have to be in a certain mood to do this. I do have a fragile ego myself and I’m a long way from saying “fuck it” to everything and everyone… But sometimes, it’s so much fun to fuck with Trump lovers! The trick is, just don’t respond to anything they say or write as if you take them seriously. Then sit back and watch the fallout. It’s hilarious! And before anyone reminds me of what Rhonda Vincent sings, let me remind you that unlike Mr. AR 15 God lover, I don’t profess to be particularly “Christian” myself. God doesn’t dip His pen of love in my heart that often… but when He does, it’s usually when I’m listening to bluegrass.

And I will admit, when I hear this, I love God, too.

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