tiddly winks and big big sinks

Oohh breaths of fresh air. I am starving my party friend of some
chemical reactions that would necessitate it never leaving, but today
is the day I discover a potential answer in the form of another
doctor’s appointment.

“We’re talking Homeland Security in your town, your state”.
Ever think and wonder if this whole idea of “Homeland Security” would
not exist if B Junior never decided to steal the election in the
first place? I love reading about him parading around Europe like some
kind of messiah, hell-bent on converting everyone to “Christian
Democracy” because apparently Jesus’ talks directly to him. Apparently
“God” blesses  America first because we are so full of ourselves
that no other religion or idea could possibly compete with our own.
Though religion and competition inherently cancel each other out,
right? Not when you’re GB Junior. Because we cannot stop until
God and Jesus are icons even in the Islamic states. And you wonder why
they hate us? It’s too bad our little assassin got off, because
everyone is too sleepy and tired to actually act out and do anything.
The only action anyone would be willing to take is if the entire
infra-structure fell apart. Then maybe people would actually be smart
enough to get educated, to question, to wonder what place we really
think we have in the world. To maybe back down, and take this whole
idea of separation of church and state seriously. But the lonely lost

sheep of America need something, someone to believe in, something

bigger than themselves, something that even the President of the United States believes in, some little book someone at some
point deemed law when there was no law. To believe in hey-zeus and
daddy white beard is a good way to feel close to your celebrities, and
for middle America, Christina and Britney will never be any more
accessible than their TV screens, but when GB Junior says he
believes in “God”, he really understands what you’re going through,
since his god is your god and you believe in the same book. Thing is,
GB isn’t you, people. He isn’t poor, he doesn’t really care about
you. In his re-election campaigns he was even quoted as saying he
didn’t understand the lower class because he had never associated
himself with them. Good thing for a President to chime on about huh? He
will never be poor, and neither will his family and someday soon his
fucktard brother will climb up the ranks on the money Bush is
ensuring will fuel elections for his family for ever. It’s big
business, it’s not diplomacy, and the only karmic genius that could
happen is to watch that little empire fall down into many ashy bits.

In other un-related news. I keep dreaming about moving to
sunshine-thrown apartments, complete with no cockroaches and mice. I
refuse to cook in my kitchen again because the infestation from the
rich homos of both pests continues. Me and the diznog need a vacation
to allow full bombing and removal of the bodies. I don’t think I can
afford those options because my landlord is a friend, and I am so
obviously poor at this time. And to actually get off of unemployment
and have it be worthwhile, I would have to make about 40 grand per
year, something I last made in the dot-bomb boom back in 1999. I keep
picturing myself in a strange kind of spinsteresque situation, not
leaving this place unless I get married off at some point, me and my
dog all pasty-skinned with red beady eyes after being in here for years
and years. hahah. It’s funny, but so possible. As it is I cannot sleep
in the only room with sunshine because I have nightmares in my bed
unless there is someone else there. My $500 wonderbed gets not slept in
but once every two weeks or so, when E finds ample reason to come over.
As it is my dog and I fight for corners to coitalize in on my skinny couch which usually
involves me pushing her down to my feet while she scrambles to climp up
and sleep on the side of my ribcage and shoulder. Oh, little Asa, you
are such a pain sometimes.

And because I have felt like such crappo, and I am going back to
Massatwoshits this weekend, I am nervous with no presents for the
family. Today is a rush job of art projects I will probably be
finishing tomorrow and Friday and Saturday morning on the bus back to
Wistah.

But half Deanna is back. Half Deanna is slowly re-charging to be the
party in the bag kinda girl she likes to be. Hopefully that means I
actually will be giggles and wiggles later on.

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