Pussy Grabber

         
            In other news, the national dialogue has turned to pussy. Or more specifically, grabbing pussy. There's forty-six thousand, eight hundred and seventy-four homeless people in Los Angeles and we're talking about pussy. 
            I'm wondering what the bible thumpers in the South think about all this pussy talk. It's got to be tough to justify voting for the pussy grabber now. But I'm sure they're trying to convince themselves that grabbing a little pussy is not that bad. And it isn't bad if you have all your paperwork in order, and you have permission, and you wink, and they wink back. But El Trumpe didn't have his paperwork in order, he was doing it illegally. 
            I get it. I understand why the country is talking about pussy. I can't stop thinking about pussy either. So in my mind, the country is finally being honest. But it's still amusing to me. It's like sexual harrassment is finally fun again. 

Sick Of The Right

       
           I was sick for the last week or so. I had a headache and was feeling weak and tired. My body broke out with little red spots. It was a rash of some kind, but it didn't itch. I'm not sure what I caught. I was taking ibuprofen, but it made my mouth taste funny so I stopped taking them. My illness eventually, magically, disappeared. Just like that. And now I'm back to normal.
           Speaking of being sick. I'm sick of the election cycle we've been embarked upon. It's annoying. It would be more interesting if people were capable of engaging in intelligent debate, but as far as I can tell most people simply believe what their parents taught them to believe about politics. My mother is a lefty. And now I'm a lefty. But I remember sitting in class in college and asking myself if what I believed politically was because of my mother. The answer to my question was yes, definitely. I am the product of my parents' teaching. Then I thought, what if my belief system was wrong and what my mother taught me was wrong? Maybe conservatives are the true and righteous. It's not like my mother was educated. Let me think this through. So I did just that. I thought about my place in life, how and where I was raised, and I thought about my economic situation. I am part of the proletariat. I thought about conservatives and how they relate to the proletariat and I came to the conclusion that my political beliefs were in accordance with the struggles of my everyday living. It's obviously more complex than that, but this is a blog, not a book.
            I worry about the people who don't take the time to think things through. Who don't ask the question of why do I believe what I believe? The people who blindly follow, not fully aware that their beliefs may not even be their own.