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I mean, they want to win don’t they?

Or is this merely a charade?

It must be, since it is otherwise inexplicable why grown men with some measure of intelligence–that required to walk upright and chew food–would say the idiotic things that have been heard on the campaign trail in the last few days.

First good old Ragin’ Rick informs Puerto Ricans that in his Administration, a brand new requirement to statehood will be added: namely that they discard that old-fashioned Spanishy talk, and pony up to American English–presumably no cheerio and pip pip nonsense of course.

Well Puerto Ricans responded rather firmly with Ricky. Na Na Ricky. No Más.

As of late, the Willard, not to be outdone in the duh race, informed college bound students that “they were on their own” in terms of costs. Don’t come looking to his Administration for financial help. Nope, get a job there junior. Oh, well, a third job them.

And as to women? He’s “getting rid” of Planned Parenthood. He doesn’t care where you get your mammogram there lady. That’s lady business, none of mine. I’m the economic wizard, and I only touch me some lady parts when I am increasing the herd, heh, heh. Get my meanin’ there missy?

“If you are looking for free stuff there lady, vote for the other guy.” Yeah, he said that. Yes he did.

I haven’t heard much of the so-called “new and improved” Ryan plan. But I did hear that he opened by announcing that priority #1 was repeal of Obamacare. Now that tells me right off that he and the Gobs of Poo have no real intention of putting forth a real economic plan. Unless picking a fight with your opening line is your way of thoughtful and conciliatory budget discussion.

But as I hear it, the deficit decriers are slashing spending as only the heartless can, all the while REDUCING TAXES FOR THE RICH EVEN FURTHER, and  just in case that is still too onerous, they would gut the Alternative Minimum tax all together.

All in all, the “new” Ryan plan is nothing more than regifting the old one. Dude, I said, I didn’t like it the first go round.

March Madness used to refer to basketball. Now it refers to Grey Old Putzes running for a nomination.

The funny thing about a guy like Newt is that they are so full of themselves, that they think your making fun of them is just sour grapes. You know, you’re just jealous that you aren’t them. It’s but another delusion they live in.

It’s one of those days. I’ve been packing. I have the living room done, which is more than you might expect because we have cabinets which had dishes and sideboard that was chock full of china. We’re made decisions about how we are going about selling the bronco and tractors and rototiller and such. That is hugely a relief. So now it’s to the Pod people, or the Mayflower, or whom ever. They all have those now. And buying a new car, and finding out about renting an RV and going to see the real estate people to put us in touch with an agent in Las Cruces who can start gettin’ busy.

And then there is fish and chips for dinner, which I positively hate to make but love to eat.

And it’s soggy all over cuz we had a bunch of storms that ran through last night.

But none of our cats look like this cuz they are smartie cats, and don’t go out in the rain. Even when the strays that have taken up residence in one of the out buildings, and I feed a bit here and there, were caterwauling (meaning doing the nasty), none of ours ventured out to peep.

I was proud of them for their maturity.

Bear used to get all scaredy cat when it thundered. His hearing is now so non-existent that he doesn’t notice now.

That’s sad. We are conflicted about him at the moment. He has his good days and his bad. We’re trying to fairly assess how bad the bad is. The good is not very good. But the spark is there sometimes and then you feel awful for even thinking about, well you know. Sigh.

The thing about string theory is that at some point, you realize it’s all about. String that is.

You can’t escape it.

You’re strings too.

And that can be very confusing.

And so I would suggest that you not think about it too hard.

You can only open you eyes so wide you know before they pop right out. And if you are near the pot, well, they might be confused with MEATBALLS!

And that is simply gross.

Our cats have too much sense to think about strings.

So sue me.