Archives for posts with tag: bloggers

I overdosed on Trump this week.  It was my fault. “Just one more article,” I kept telling myself, fully intending to avert my eyes from the cake-batter mess unfolding across computer screens around the globe.

Thankfully, Trump has yet to lessen the tribe of writers and bloggers who are determined to expose him for what he really is…a man who lies even when it’s in his best interests not to lie. This trait is burrowed deep into his psyche and guides his every act. There is no hope he will change. Because people with serious personality disorders know when they do something that is morally or ethically wrong. The difference between them and us? They just do not care. And will say so to your face.

I had enough this morning so bounced over to The New Yorker and found these two gems. Humor…it does a body (and mind) good. *smile*

Happy Easter!

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It’s Wednesday!  It’s, like, actually Wednesday at 2 in the morning and I, like,  


Ms. Anal Retentive does NOT forget when it’s time to write a post for NWR!  

No!  Ms. Perfection has to have said post written a minimum of 3 days prior so that she can look at it 600 times before it’s published.

Scooby Doo,  like, where are you when I, like, need you?  

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From Wikipedia, because I’m, you know, like, in a rush??

Why, you might ask, would I forget something this mind-bogglingly important?

As Kelly Bundy would put it:  




In case you missed that series segment of “Married with Children,” because it was aired in 1994, here is an explanation of Kelly Bundy’s brain:

Bud Bundy: You have to understand, Kelly’s brain can hold anything. But there are some things you have to know. One: that it’s totally empty.

Al: Woudn’t you know it.

Bud Bundy: And two: that you can’t just shove information into her head. You have to be careful. Feed her information slowly, bit by bit, drop by drop, until she’s full.

Al: Full?

Bud Bundy: Oh, yeah. Kelly’s brain can actually get full with information. And then you got to be really careful. Because each new thought after that will totally replace an old one. That’s why Kelly forgot to wear a blouse on the day she went to take her drivers ed exam.

(My thanks to for this dialogue)


Is there a support group for that?  

If so, would we forget when we were supposed to meet?  

Worse yet, is it the precursor to ALZHEIMER’S (a word more dreaded in the English Language than KARMA) ?????

The reason for this particular foray into forgetfulness is easy to explain:


(the place where anal-retentive people go to die).

Because I’m in such a D@mned hurry, I’ll expand on that explanation by stealing from the post I made on the day that bureaucracy walked into the office to tell me how to cross my t’s and dot my i’s.


Drowning in a sea of paper today.

Here’s a question for you:  Why is government bureaucracy NOT like writing fiction?

Answer:  Because when you write fiction, it has to make sense.

No one in government considers the repercussions of creating rules that turn your job into a script idea for Mission Impossible. 

I’ll be spending the next few days getting over a bad case of Frazzled.  Once I emerge from this hideous state, I’ll come up with a way to cope with the newest in a series of bureaucratic blunders.

But not right now.  

Time for several games of Rummy 500 that I play every night with a dinosaur, an alien and Jack.

In case you’re interested in playing cards with me, the Rummy 500 I speak of is Hoyle Cards on a used disk from around the time Kelly Bundy was learning to drive.

That’s all I have in me for today.  It’s time for me to post on my own blog.  Fortunately, it’s Wordless Wednesday.