The Connecticut Waltons

I'm having trouble getting it up to be Political.
I'm too stuck in my own Bullshit.  Many times when I've felt Political, I've said that we need to stick together so that when one of us Loud Mouthed Progressives falls down, another one will stand up and mouth off.  That one falls down, and another stands up, and so on and so on.

I admire Parsley's Pics because she never seems to fall down.  She must, of course, because we all do.  Even still, she always has something intelligent to contribute to the conversation.  At the moment, I have nothing to contribute except personal disappointments.  I suppose there's a place for that but only because there seems to be a place for everything - and also because a lot of folks seem pervasively grouchy at the moment.

Things on the home front are so oppressive that I can't even look at that dang John Boehner.  Passing DADT seems to me to be another recruiting technique for an all volunteer military that can't sustain an endless war.  This country will condescend to let our LGBT citizens get killed, but they can't get married.  That's bullshit - especially when you consider that so many marriages are a living hell anyway.  That Artist from the South of France I dated for a little while said that when France instituted something like Domestic Partnerships so that queer couples could have the same rights under the law as married couples - heteros stopped getting married.

I maintain that the only people foaming at the mouth to get to the altar today in America are LGBT.

I have read enough headlines on the internet to determine that Obama is an old school Republican - similar to Bob Dole, maybe, except that I never paid enough attention to Republicans to know one from another.  However, my mother assures me that in the past, there were decent Republicans.  When I think of Bob Dole, I think of Viagra and how he must have made a bundle off it since prescription plans pay for Viagra even though they often won't pay for birth control pills.

My mother also says that Bill Clinton is Republican Lite, and since Obama can't do enough to turn himself into Bill Clinton, we can conclude that Barack Obama is a Republican.  The Republicans, therefore, are so conservative that I don't even know what to call them.  I never learned the difference between all those political factions back in World War II, like Fascists and Marxists and Nazis.  I know Fascists were in Italy, Marxists in Russia (sort of) and Nazis were in Germany, but all I know for sure is that Republicans aren't Marxists or Socialists unless they're trying to boss around somebody in their own neighborhood.  For example, when a country club in Houston wanted to build condos around the perimeter, the neighbors in the fancy houses across the street interfered with the property owner's sovereign right to do what he wanted with his own damn golf course.  I can't remember the whole story - I just know that when they commenced argufying, the neighborhood water district refused to sell water to the country club in order to force the property owner to capitulate to the demands of the neighborhood rich guys - which might make the neighbors kind of like the Israelis.  I don't know what the Israelis are either - I just know they understand how to use water for political and social purposes.

The fight between the Country Club and the Neighbors was about to get serious when Hurricane Ike hit and did enough minor damage to the country club so that the property owner could get wads and wads of FEMA money - ergo: everyone is now happy down at Raveneaux.   Although I'm sure I've got details and facts wrong in this tale, the moral remains the same:  Those damn Republicans are all for individual rights until those rights interfere with their own personal interests.  Double Standards and Total Bullshit prevail. And these Republicans aren't even Tea Baggers, although they may give money to Tea Baggers.  That's Entertainment not Politics.

Anyway, I hate those motherfuckers which is another reason I just couldn't see moving to Texas right now.  When the Christian Fiction section in Barnes & Noble is bigger than Personal Finance or Bargain Books, you know you're in trouble.  Maybe I'll move to Texas next year.  Maybe I'll hit megamillions and buy a small island country and turn it into a Hippie Haven.  My advisors' job would be to prevent me from following my natural inclinations and turning into Imelda Marcos or whoever that woman was in South America.  Madonna played her in the movie:



Was Evita Bad or Good? I don't know. I just like the outfits.

I'll be driving through the snow this afternoon to join VeryMissMary in Connecticut.  She got a recipe from a restaurant she loves on Amsterdam Avenue for a drink that is much like Egg Nog, except that it's really Creme Anglaise and turns into a beverage that is rather like a Vanilla Brandy Alexander.

After you make the Creme Angliase, you mix in the Five Dirty Browns:  Rum, Bourbon, Cognac, Brandy and some other whiskey.  It's tasty and it kicks your ass, which means it's now my favorite drink.  We're going to mix up a batch and invite that tasty boiler repair man over for cocktails.  Things with the Young Socialist are not progressing as I would have liked because he doesn't get off work until 10:00 at night and then because he lives and works deep in Brooklyn, it would mean at least an hour subway ride for him to get to my place.  All well and good if you're planning a sleep-over, but that's out of the question until Velvet heads out for the Wyoming Rockies in mid-February.  Hence, an exploratory mission with the Boiler Repair Man.

I like the idea simply because the opportunity for punning is virtually endless.  It's just that I suck at puns, so somebody else will have to do the punning.  Here's me and VeryMissMary when we got held for ransom at the Chanel counter at a Lord & Taylor in Connecticut:

We may do some live blogging on her site once we get the mixture right.  She hasn't updated her blog since the last time I was inclined and sober enough to type.  Eventually, we're going to brew up some herb tea also because one of our aspirations is to turn a small village into Vicodinville and become like the Misses Emily and Mamie Baldwin on the Waltons.  Or Bartles & James.