MY HOW BIG YOUR CROSS IS

Good morning.

*Please forgive the grammatical errors. 

Our patience is being tested. 

In regard to high food costs, tariff wars with everyone including our neighbor allies, plummeting stock market, and people losing their 401K and health plans, the fat orange mushy donut in the White house reportedly said, "Only the weak will fail." That Jabba a-hole simp couldn't care less about farmers, everyday Americans, veterans, health and education. He doesn't care about America or us her people. He and his ancient model Stepford robot wife (in desperate need of a reboot) are so evil it's almost biblical and yet over half of America re-elected him and for what, to be openly racist and/or misogynist? I cannot help but ask was it worth your retirement and 401K? Was it worth your health insurance? 

"Only the strong survive" mentality was made in war/post war time and the great depression. So, there you go. That is where this idiot president is trying to take us. 

You don't have to have an ivy league or private school education to be mindful of your surroundings or crack open a book from time to time. You just have to want to know what's going on in the world, and how the world generally works. History repeats itself especially when it comes to this president. His epically failed leadership during Covid should have been enough to keep him out of the White House forever, but no. Look, unless you destroy for all eternity every means of transport across each and every mass of land and sea what happens on other continents affect America hence 5th grade social studies and at this point, I much rather have any fifth grader in America sitting in the oval office.

I can't even watch White House news or its moronic White House press secretary Karoline whats-her-face and her giant 1989 virtue signaling Hot Topic bedazzled cross. She's such a horrible liar. Hey lady, Flavor Flav 1991 called and said, "King and chief probably had a big beef. Because of dat now I grit my teeth." Same, Flav. Same! Who knew among other things Flavor Flav was a time traveling Maharishi sage of rap and hip-hop. 

Mennonites and Amish colonies know what they are doing keeping everyone out and living off grid. Lately, I've been pondering how to go about it too, sans Waco siege and Ruby Ridge, of course. 

Do you ever wonder if XBOX is teaching kids how to exist in the future like how our generation(X) crude childhood games like SIMON and PERFECTION taught us memory and reflex. I mean, most of those games were completely unnerving but so are XBOX zombie slaughter games. I loved my Simon. It was psychological crack for eight-year-olds like me who could not get enough RUBIK'S CUBE. I still to this day love memory and puzzle games. When the first MYST came out I downloaded it and was stuck in front of the computer for a month. All hail CD ROM!

Before I returned to my faith last year, I had another blog for about ten years that was mostly political and social satire, aka my weird sense of humor you either got it or didn't. Surprisingly it had grown quite popular. No, it didn't get shut down as some suspected. I shut it down. I erased it. I felt my line of thinking when writing that blog was holding me back creatively. Nothing had changed in ten years. Means I hadn't grown in ten years. I was writing the same blather over and over to the point even my friends were like, "If I'm not in the blog, I'm not reading it." It did anger some famous people though which I found amusing since it was pure entertainment. Satire. Stuff I wrote just to make my friends laugh. Nonetheless, it triggered some people. That's me, I'm just out here stripping down nerves raw and poking them with a stick. Just wait until I publish the book I'm working on now. This one is going to make some people angry because they aren't going to actually read the book with an ounce of consideration, they're going to skim through it at best and guess the rest, or worse yet rely on people who are going to read the book already hating it before finishing the first page - and then want to fight with me about it. 

The storyline of my book deals specifically with a group of younger people in the aftermath of being born into what most outsiders considered a cult. When the cult leader was later arrested and sent to prison leaving our main characters at the time ages 15-18 years old, they were debris, left-behinds to grow up in rural Midwest, in the 50's to 70's, and move on with their lives as strangers in a strange land mere miles away from where they were born. This story is about transference into different lifestyles, families, religions, separating good from evil, being a product of environment vs inherited traits, and how institutions of law, religion, and mental health handle people they know nothing about. Any time you do not conform to social norms or if you complain about anything legit, you're deemed dangerous, depressed and/or suicidal. "There's so much mental illness out there!" But is there? Is it always mental illness or is it something else. Whatever it is let's definitely not talk about it or try to understand it with hope of preventing further destruction due to it. In other words, this is a book for people who can think for themselves. "If Trump-o hates it, I hates it." No, you big dopey ding-dong, read the book. Think for yourself. Besides, everyone knows Trump-o can't read words with more than four letters.

If I can write a book with my broken stroked out brain, you can read it. 

* I have good brain days and bad brain days which is why it's taking me longer than normal to write.  

AND ANOTHER THING

Just a reminder folks, the constitution was written to protect the American people from its government, from its congress, and from presidents like Trump-o illegally throwing your husbands in El Salvadorian jails and then ignoring judge's orders to release the innocent man and bring him home. For the love of mercy congress, stand up to this behemoth orange inflatable tube donkey of a man.

Every day I talk to God. I talk to God for hours and hours some days lately about my book. I'm going through great pains to not openly criticize false Christians. What I mean is, I'm going to quote only one passage, my favorite passage, from the Bible in this book. The rest of the preaching you'll read will be from poems and spiritual soliloquies I made up just for this book, but we'll see how many will swear it's from the Bible and claim that I blasphemed. Even when I lost my faith, I still respected it. Who am I, no one. As I will always maintain, most self-proclaimed Catholics and protestants would not know the difference between passages from the Bible, lyrics from Iron Maiden or Black Sabbath, or something I just made up and normalized. I'm not saying I'm some kind of terrific writer, I'm saying a hearty number of Christians and Catholics are really (really) bad at it. 

**cough** Karoline Leavitt** cough**

Just remember, if you're reading this blog, only one passage, my favorite passage, will be from the Bible. The rest I made up.

Jesus cried and said, He that believeth on me, believeth not on me, but on him that sent me. And he that seeth me seeth him that sent me. I am come a light into the world, that whosoever believeth on me should not abide in darkness. And if any man hear my words, and believe not, I judge him not: for I come not to judge the world, but to save the world.

--- John 12:44-47 

Life is good. Have a peaceful Sunday. God bless. 

WISCONSIN FOR THE WIN!

Good day, friends.

*Please forgive the grammatical errors.

I'm going to jump all over the place so please bear with me. Lots to chat about. 

First, God rest Val Kilmer in peace. What a talent. A true loss in the movie world. Gone too soon. I love Kilmer in so many films. I have a picture of me in my bedroom in 1991 after The Doors came out pointing at framed photos of Val Kilmer in Jim Morrison black leather. If I didn't look like a Goth junkie in too much pancake makeup I would post the photos. (Actually, I don't think I fixed my blog yet to post photos. Busy.) Google AI wrote Val Kilmer is now "cancer free" in its description of Kilmer's throat cancer. Well done AI. Well done. Good grief. 

Every American GENX is watching Tombstone tonight. I just fired it up on Disney+.

I'm waiting for my cancer screen results. In early March I suddenly lost 14 pounds in two weeks. That's a pound a day and that's not normal for a sober healthy person. All the prescriptions I'm on I've been on since 2021. The only new prescription is Levothyroxine and I've been on that since last summer. And while I did lose weight the first three months on Levothyroxine, which is normal you either gain weight or lose weight depending on the person, but this recent sudden weight loss is something else. I wasn't hungry every day. I could go two days on just one apple, caffeine, and water. After eating the apple, I completely lost my appetite. Food made me sick just to look at it or smell it. For women we have to be very careful how much info we give certain male doctors, or they'll deem us depressed or suicidal if we say we lost our appetites. Luckily my doctor was out, and I had a female doctor who prescribed the Zenwise enzyme. She said that she and her entire family take it for all kinds of medical conditions like IBS, pancreatic care, and diabetes. I'm a diabetic. I've been taking Zenwise for a month now and feel 50% better, some days more. Some days I can eat just fine, other days food makes me sick to my stomach. I highly recommend Zenwise nonetheless. On my eat days everything passes through like it's supposed to. Still, I'm not back to how I was before January. One day, just like that, last January something in my body quit working, or isn't working like it's supposed to. Just to be safe, I started my cancer screenings. It's a lot. Everywhere you can get cancer they have a screening for it. Once you get your test result for one screening and it's negative you go on to the next screening. Exterior screenings are cheaper, so you start there. It gets more and more expensive depending on what thing they have to stick up into your body and where. Is it a finger, a camera, a wand ultrasound, and where in your body are they stuffing it. Some days I wonder what I'm doing all this for but in the end the answer is always the same, 56 is too young to die. 

The big dumb wannabe oompa loompa in the White House, and his pet nazi saluting pigeon want to cut healthcare programs along with education, and government sectors that actually help people. I agree 100% there are too many useless government jobs. If you really want to cut spending and close the social security offices forever, cut each American a check for all the money taken out of our paychecks for social security since we were 16 years old. Then you can just shut those offices down completely forever - but first you have to give us our money back. Shouldn't be hard. Y'all know how much we've made every year, where we've worked, just give us our money back and we'll call it square. GIVE US OUR MONEY BACK. Clearly investing in social security was a sham retirement "savings" program because every politician democrat and republican has "borrowed" from social security and not paid it back. Not one single president has paid back what they "borrowed". 

I'm going to mention the Midwest a few times in this blog. For starters, you should know the only thing Midwesterners hate more that politicians are their wealthy friends. Hate them. Elon Musk sticking a cheesehead hat on his DEI noggin was just embarrassing. Funny thing, Wisconsin probably would have voted republican had Elon Musk stayed home. Did he drink a beer with a plate of cheese curds anywhere? 'Cos that would have been even more embarrassing than the cheesehead hat. I can totally hear Elon Musk asking what part of the cheese curds come from. (The front half, bro. The front half of the cheese, DUH! You Xenomorph alien reject.) I'm not a fan of cheese curds. I take issue with anything that squeaks when I chew it.

And speaking of the Midwest, the storyline to my book has taken a rather sudden jerk in a new direction. Backstory: I grew up a Minnesota townie. It was a very small town in the 70's and 80's. I was born in 1969. It was mostly prairie land back then. Little House on the Prairie - esque, to be exact before the big migration and immigration boom of 2000. My hometown is directly in the middle sandwiched in between farms and deep thick woods. We all grew up speaking one dialect of German or another. Speaking German and knowing how to ice skate were kind of must-haves by second grade. I can't ice skate anymore unfortunately not since my stroke/s plus I'm old and I wouldn't make it around the rink one time without my ankles shattering into a million pieces. Not having anyone to speak German to since 1989 that too has gotten sloppy. On occasion I'll take little refresher courses online. German is one of the easiest languages for Americans to learn. A few months back home sharpens my German up some. Minnesota early on was primarily German. There wasn't a huge population of Swedes. The only reason people outside of Minnesota thought Swedes dominated Minnesota was because Swedes brought the church of Sweden with them to Minnesota. The church of Sweden is the loosest form of Lutheranism there is. Martin Luther (the priest who found Lutheranism) was German but that's not why Minnesotans spoke German. The earliest pioneers of Minnesota were German though I think many of them were also French, and those pioneers were German Mennonites and French Amish. Mennonites and Amish don't advertise their church. You have to be born into the Mennonite and Amish colonies to be Mennonite or Amish. It's not like you can just show up to their colonies one day and be all, "Hi. I want to join your fancy group." They don't advertise their church; they don't want outsiders in it. Swedes however do. The church of Sweden, like all protestants and Catholics, advertise their church. These churches want bodies. Small towns are different in every corner of this country but the one similarity all small towns share is God. Christianity and Catholicism are HUGE in small towns and yes, Christan and Catholic are different religions. Very different. Same God, just different ways to find Him, praise Him, receive Him, and talk to Him. Don't even get me started on the Pantheists! In the 70's German was still a very dominant language. I have a theory that most of the French Amish moved north into Canada once the German Mennonite colonies moved in. My book has a lot of small-town Minnesota vibes. It's what I know. The 70's and 80's marked a lot of struggling Midwest farms. There are abandoned farmhouses from the 70's rotting away in Minnesota still to this day. Minnesota is one of those states where the bulk of the people live in or around the twin cities. The further out you get the more you better be comfortable with horror movie dark nights out in the middle of nowhere, guns, beer guts, racism, no teeth, and dealing with 7th grade education - but always God. So much happens out there in between the corn fields. That's where my book now begins. 

The baby eagles in Big Bear CA are so frigging big now! The baby eagles have big ol' Beaky Buzzard dumbo feet. So cute. Y'all remember Beaky Buzzard dontcha? 

The remainder of the week is a nutty one. Doctors, cancer screening, wait for test results, an assortment of various appointments, etc. I was going to move into the valley but man it's just so expensive. Some people legit want 15K a month for a room. Just a room. Shared bathroom. I pay 1K a month where I am, and I pretty much have my own bathroom. Plus they leave me alone which is nice. On occasion the homeowner and I chat. Language barrier and all. AND I just met the homeowner's cat! Pretty indoor kitty. A tuxie. I had no idea they even had a cat! So cute. So now I can never move out. I met their cat! There's a neighborhood cat who has an injured tail. This kitty is so pretty. She's grey with puffs of white fluff. Pretty little friendly face. I'm trying to get her used to seeing me so I can take her to the vet to fix her tail. I don't know if someone cut her tail off or if she lost it in a fight, either way there's some exposed tail at the end of the nubby without fur or skin around it and I don't want it to get infected. I want to take her to the vet and get it wrapped up. I just have to catch her first which is really hard to do.

I'm finally going to Sheldon's gravesite tomorrow after my appointment. It'll be an emotional day. I'll give Andy a call and see if he wants to go with me.    

Be good to each other. Being back home in southern California I'm reminded that the state itself, homeless, and governor aren't the problem here, it's the mentality of oh so many residents. I'm reminded how people out here don't even buy their friends coffee. We all have Zell, Paypal, Venmo, etc., one person pays among your party of six. Seriously, how hard is that? Some people out here really make it unnecessarily complicated. When I lived in Hollywood I had a friend crash on my couch for almost six years. I never once asked her for rent or money. I don't even think she asked me. She just started crashing on it one day. In the Midwest and east coast one person pays, then the other friend pays the next time, or like I said we all have Zell and Paypal! I don't know what the malfunction is in SoCal. No one shares a ride to work. A group of five people, after a group of three people, after a group of four people buying coffee holds up the line so everyone can pay individually with a credit card and half of those people still don't know how to use the credit card machine. SoCal has to get out of the me-me-me-first-only-me-me-me-matters mentality. Selfish. Just be a good person. One good deed a day makes a world of difference. 

If any man has ear to hear, let him hear.

--Mark 4:23

  

God bless! 

ANOTHER FRIEND

Good morning!

*Please forgive the grammatical errors.

As I wrote in my last blog A FRIEND   I never had a chance to say goodbye to Sheldon properly after he died in 2023. Things had gotten tense between us for no reason, well no, that's not true, there was a reason, and I call her Miss Money because all she cared about was Sheldon's money. After Sheldon died, she got it. A lot of it and then no one ever saw or heard from her again. She got what she wanted and took off to Atlanta. I guess that's how they raise girls out in Georgia. Miss Money can smell vulnerable men, stick her talons into them and wait for them to die like a vulture. After a recent chat with Sheldon's niece, she encouraged me to call Andy, a neighbor and dear friend of Sheldon's and a friend of mine until Sheldon and I parted ways. After much internet searching, I found Andy and gave him a call. We had a wonderful hour-long chat. Just wonderful. He told me how immediately after Sheldon's funeral, on the same day, Miss Money hired a moving truck and looted Sheldon's house including ripping out a brand new 80-inch TV from the wall mount. She packed up all she could into a moving truck and hustled back to Atlanta before anyone could say a thing. What a piece of work, eh? I'm not sure how Miss Money received her inheritance. Probably by check to her 1-bedroom apartment in Atlanta. She had finally moved out of her parents' house at the ripe young age of 50 thanks to the money Sheldon gave her. I also learned what killed Sheldon.

Back in the day Sheldon and I put back a lot of wine. An obscene amount of wine every night. Not just wine, margaritas and martinis too. So much vodka. I drank vodka straight out the bottle since I was a teenager. Room temp or cold. Right out the bottle. Every night Sheldon and I wrecked our livers. I slowed way down to an almost stop when I got married in 2003, but Sheldon kept on going even after he had a pacemaker put in around 2013. He just kept on drinking. In May 2023 I (now) learned Sheldon went into the hospital for sorosis of the liver. "Chronic alcohol abuse" they called it. Sheldon was admitted into the hospital severely bloated and in need of a new liver. He was later released from the hospital and told to just wait it out. Later in the month Sheldon was re-admitted into the hospital but with good news they had found a new liver for him thanks to an organ doner but unfortunately Sheldon would suddenly die in the hospital before doctors could put the new liver in him. Crazy! I learned all this just today talking with Andy. I wonder who got Sheldon's liver. Maybe God knew the liver would go to someone else who wouldn't abuse it with more alcohol. Who knows. Meanwhile, it was either during Sheldon's first or second visit in the hospital Miss Money talked Sheldon into changing his Will. She managed to convince Sheldon to only leave money in the Will for people who had visited him within the past few weeks. That was literally Miss Money and two of Sheldon's older relatives who he called when he went into the hospital the first time. No one else knew he was in the hospital. Miss Money didn't tell anyone. Nope, not even his closest friends. Wow. Just wow. When Sheldon had his peacemaker put in, I called everyone! If I knew their names and had their phone numbers, I called them. Sheldon took his niece out of the Will and all his friends and remaining family. Then Sheldon died and immediately after the funeral Miss Money looted Sheldon's house on the same day. Got a U-Haul and took furniture, TV, artwork, crystal, silverware, everything she could throw into the U-Haul and took off. Never to be seen or heard from again. Miss Money only told people about Sheldon's condition after he died. She was packing up his stuff when he was admitted into the hospital the second time anticipating he was hours away from death and she would get her wish. I thought villains like her only existed in old Bond movies and comic books. I feel sorry for her next victim because she's older and will want to spend that money ASAP. No waiting 20 years for him to die like she waited with Sheldon. She will no doubt help it along next time.

Talking with Andy again was like no time had passed between us. We were always friends but not close until the day he knocked on the door and said he had a terrible headache for like two days and couldn't take the pain anymore. We went to the ER and turns out he was having an aneurism. He was smart and wanted to go to the hospital unlike me who just assumed I was having migraine when really I was having a stroke, ignored it, then seven days later started having a massive stroke and finally had to call 911. Andy was smart. Me not so much. We almost lost him. Sweetest man in the world. God has a plan. It just wasn't Andy's time to go, or mine for some reason. Not yet anyway. 

Andy and I have chatted on the phone a few times now. Sweetest man ever.

After the sad loss of the one baby eagle chick up in Big Bear the remaining two are thankfully thriving getting big and strong and starting to have character. I watch mama Jackie and papa Shadow feed the chicks and, in my head, I hear, "Stop throwing food on your sister!" and then I literally saw one chick stand up and put its wings on its hips and I imagined it said, "Coot again?! Ugh can't we have McDonalds!" I love these bald eagles. The more criminal and crazier the current president gets the more I watch these bald eagles to heal my soul. Every woman with a child/children can relate to mama Jackie. She feeds her chicks every two hours; she's been pooped on by her chicks and shook it off. She's the primary caregiver even during the freezing cold nighttime winter storms buried her in snow, and she was the one who left the nest with her dead chick. Poor mama. So sad. I have so much respect for good mamas of all species especially since I did not have one. Maybe I would have a happy blissful house full of grandbabies now if I had. Maybe.

After talking with Andy and Sheldon's niece I feel really good. I haven't felt good in a while. Too much toxic. It's so nice talking with people who are down to earth and normal. A rarity in Los Angeles. Healthy communication is so important for your well-being. Surround yourself with good down to earth people. I really missed Andy. He's such a good guy. I can't wait to see him again.

I'm currently in my morning routine drinking my first cup of hot tea for the day, writing and watching mama Jackie bald eagle feeding her chicks. They got big so fast. It looks like Jackie and Shadow did some housekeeping and cleaned the nest a bit from the growing pile of "meal clutter" i.e. fish and duck/coot carcasses use to feed the babies. The carcass pile was getting pretty high. Glad to see some of the clutter gone. Sunrises and sunsets over the bald eagle nest are just glorious. Beautiful. God's work. Thank you Friends Of Big Bear Valley for allowing us to watch these majestic eagles, our nation's bird. Seems like Americans should know more about bald eagles being as how they're on our money, courtrooms, president's flag, and military insignias. 

Moving on.

I really want to try deachang. I know what it is which is also what has prevented me from eating things like "trotters" and chicken feet, but I've tried liver and onions, and I knew what the function of a liver is before I ate it. Didn't like it. It tasted like how I thought a liver would taste. Blah. There's a young gal on Youtube who has reels of her eating what I thought were bull testicles but turns out it was the brains of some animal. I appreciate and respect when cultures eat the entire animal. I know there are dishes made of pigs heads and deachang is cow intestine but I'm so German Midwest American in my eating habits the most exotic thing I've eaten is probably snake and alligator jambalaya, and for a gal who grew up on meat and potatoes jambalaya is pretty darn exotic. Korean restaurants in America seem to keep deachang off the menu. Probably because only Korean-Koreans would eat it but I want to try it.

I'm in a weird phase of life. Being a 56-year-old woman is the time between menopause and retirement. Not having a period is worth celebrating on its own yay! But I'm not quite at retirement age and finding work has been a real challenge. Even my 61-year-old brother is now working at Target a company that actually turned me down for employment. Seems the men folk being able to lift 50 pounds is an asset. I wouldn't mind a job at the Post Office sorting mail like Charles Bukowski did. I received an email from the Jewish Center in Las Vegas this morning asking if I was still interested doing work for them. I am but only for the position I applied for which they said I wasn't a candidate for because I don't drive. The position was to assist seniors so they can stay in their own homes and continue living independently but the position requires you to drive. I'm going to be an official senior in six years who won't be driving. Why am I not allowed to teach seniors how to use senior alert systems, rideshare and the metro? That's what I'll be using. Why can't I teach that to them. What happens of the car breaks down and they have an important doctor's appointment? I mean, it's about independence, right? I take the train, metro, subway, rideshares. California is good for public transit. Why not educate seniors how to use them? I see old gals like me on the metro all the time. 

I'm chatting with a lady I've known since 1993'ish. We were young Turks (like the Rod Stewart song) and now we're old ladies. Life is good when you have nice people to chat with. A real blessing.

I predict next week will mark a new chapter. A new journey. God bless you.

Pray with me a small Lutheran prayer of ascension.

Behold we die one by one and we pass away like a shadow. But we are prone to take it lightly; each one walks in his own way, as it seems right to him. 

Amen.

A FRIEND

Good morning. Well... I had an interesting night. 

*Please forgive the grammatical errors. 

In my last blog: MORE THAN JUST EAGLES I mentioned my longtime friend Sheldon who died May 2023. That was a strange time for me. An emotional rollercoaster because my brothers' mom who was very abusive towards me as a little girl also died a week before Sheldon. You can read about her in my intro blog here: GREETINGS! AN INTRODUCTION 

Sheldon and I became friends back in 1992. He was a good guy but carried a lot of baggage and he was 16 years older than me an entirely different generation. Still, we had enough in common, our sense of humor, shared hobbies, thus we had a lot of fun and laughs together. Ten years later in 2002 I met my husband, and we married a year later in 2003. That's when things between Sheldon and I changed drastically as relationships among friends tend to do when someone gets married especially opposite sex friends. A mutual friend told me Sheldon was very hurt by my getting married but what should I have done stayed single forever just for him? Sheldon resented me completely for getting married. I was his best gal-pal. His girl-Friday. And then one day I wasn't.

I was married for almost ten years. During that time Sheldon met another woman he fashioned as his next bestie gal-pal but she was more interested in Sheldon's money, material goods, and whatever she could get out of him. I don't think this woman ever laughed a day in her life. I think between the two of them Sheldon and this woman had a "beggers can't be chosers" mentality and stuck out their friendship. He didn't want to be lonely. Miss Money wanted his money. In 2012 my husband and I separated for good, got divorced, and Sheldon and I resumed our bestie gal-pal relationship, but Miss Money was not having it. It got to the point where Sheldon allowed Miss Money to interfere with our friendship time after time and I had to back away again in 2015 for good. Sheldon and I were still friends, but Miss Money was not going to be denied Sheldon's cash. She deemed me as a threat not understanding what real love and friendship is. EXAMPLE: Real friends drop off soup, cold medicine, and kleenex after their ten-hour shift at work when their besties are sick. I did that for Sheldon. Miss Money yelled at him for not paying attention to her problems with her parents who she still lived with at the age of 45. Men are adults. If Sheldon would rather have chaos and a gold digger than unconditional love and friendship, that was entirely his choice. I backed off. This didn't sit well with Sheldon at all and like most men he thought fights and chaos meant love. If I wasn't willing to fight and have chaos with him like Miss Money did, then that must mean I didn't love him and Miss Money did. Look, what can you do. 

From 2015-2020 my friendship with Sheldon was severely fractured. He would try making me jealous with Miss Money by taking her to trips to Hawaii, etc., and would ask me to watch his cat while he was gone. I loved the kitty so much it was no problem regardless of the circumstance. Plus, Sheldon had it in his Will that I would have his kitty in the event of his death. Miss Money could have his money. I wanted the cat. Add to that, I much rather be with a sweet cat I loved than have a bad vacation in Hawaii with my friend while he was glued to his cell phone fighting with Miss Money.

In 2017 I left for Las Vegas. I had to make a change for me which of course once again did not sit well with Sheldon. Too bad, fella. I cannot live just for you.

In 2020 when Covid hit Sheldon seemed to have done some deep soul searching. He missed our friendship he said and wanted things to go back the way they were before I was married. He said in the 17 years he and Miss Money were besties she never once laughed with him. She never had fun. Not one time. Yeah, I said, because she's just waiting for you to die to see what she'll get. There. I said it. I don't regret it. Sheldon convinced me to come back to Los Angeles. I know he was afraid if he got sick with Covid no one would care for him. I told him no because I didn't want to live with him and be stuck in the middle of daily drama between him and Miss Money. He said if I came back, he would pay for my airbnb he just wanted me close to him. Reluctantly I agreed. Regret. Regret. Regret. My fault. When I got to Los Angeles I put myself up in a hotel and started looking at airbnbs. That's when Sheldon informed me that he was going to give Miss Money the rental money he was going to give me and that I now had to move in with him. Miss Money lives with her parents. She was a 40-something year old woman who lived with her parents. My rent in Las Vegas at the time was $600 a month. I left that because Sheldon said he would pay for my airbnb if I agreed to come back but then changed plans because of Miss Money, and that was the final straw. He called me once after that day to yell at me, but he got himself so worked up he hung up on me. He screamed at me that no one loved him. Which wasn't true. I loved him. I took care of him after his heart surgery even with a full-time job. I took care of him when he was sick. We were besties. I loved him. 

In 2021 I had a stroke. Sheldon never knew.

Around March 2022 with the help of a friend I went to Sheldon's house to pick up a few items, nothing big, that were left in his closet. Sheldon wanted the items out of his closet. I asked Sheldon to leave it out in the hallway, I didn't want any contact "because of Covid" which he obliged. I didn't knock on his door. I just took my stuff and left. After that day we never spoke again. 

May 2023, I received a message from a mutual friend that Sheldon died. He apparently went into the hospital to have his legs drained of fluid and died while in the hospital. I didn't attend the funeral. I couldn't. Aside from the fact I wasn't invited, I was in Vegas and my brothers mom had died a week prior. 

Shortly after Sheldon's death an attorney contacted me and said because he didn't see me at Sheldon's funeral, I should know I had been written out of the Will and Sheldon's cat would be going someplace else which broke my heart. The attorney mailed me the old Will but not the new one. Not a very bright attorney if you ask me. Sheldon had originally Willed me the cat who I loved and cared for and a little money to come get the cat and set kitty up with kitty stuff.   

I never said goodbye to my dear friend officially. A week or so after learning of Sheldon's death I was out for a walk and a hummingbird flew right up to my face, fluttered in front of my face for a minute and then flew away.  

Now in California I've been having this nagging feeling of finally saying goodbye to my dear friend. I tried looking up online where Sheldon was interred but couldn't find it. I searched and searched then finally I went to Sheldon's old FB page and found his niece and wrote her. I only know her through conversations with Sheldon. The niece and I chat back and forth for about an hour, and I learned she had been written out of Sheldon's Will as had all of Sheldon's friends. Only two older relatives and Miss Money split Sheldon's estate and assets worth millions. Miss Money getting the bulk of it. She finally got her prize.

Sheldon was close with three neighbors. One died. The other I call Miss Hair & Nails because her fingernails are extremely long, and she still has 1980's big bleach blonde hair (in her 80's!) and a fella I know well because I took care of him when he had his aneurism. His name is Andy. He, like me, has a special place in his heart for tuxedo cats which he names Sylvester after the cartoon cat. Every cat Andy has ever had has been a tuxie named Sylvester. Last time I saw Andy he was on his third Sylvester. He probably has one now. The niece asked me to check up on Andy since he relied so heavily on Sheldon, and she doesn't know him other than by name and meeting him at Sheldon's funeral. I told the niece that Sheldon didn't want me having contact with Andy anymore when he and I were on the outs, so I backed off. I have not seen Andy since 2020. The niece suggested I just go to the old building anyway and ring Andy. I could always get Andy's unit number off the mailbox code and write Andy if he's not there. 

The niece and I had a long chat. It was nice. It stirred up a lot of old feelings. I really loved Sheldon. We had a wonderful 10-year friendship before I got married, before Miss Money entered the picture. Perhaps Andy, if he's still alive, would like to go to Mt Sinai with me. Sheldon was his primary social friend which is why the niece suggested I just go ring his door and see what happens. 

Life is twists and turns. I really want to say goodbye to Sheldon. Every time I go back to the old neighborhoods, the old stomping grounds, I'm usually quite disappointed. People move on. People change. Buildings get torn down. New buildings get built. What once was is long lost. Still, for many many years I truly loved that building Sheldon lived in mostly because he lived in it. I remember going to Gelson's one night to pick up wine before heading to Sheldon's and some guy was on his hands and knees in the parking lot with his cell phone flashlight searching the ground. He lost his contact he said. So myself and like three other people gathered around him with our cell phone flashlights on our hands and knees on the ground searching for this guy's contact. After about ten minutes we found it. He was a sweet guy. Thanked everyone for stopping to help him search. I got up not realizing my hands and knees were stained with tar until I got to Sheldon's house. It took days for the tar to finally wash off. "I was helping a guy look for his contact." was a funny excuse if you knew me in my twenties.

I guess we'll see what happens. It would be nice to see Andy. What's left of the old gang even Miss Hair & Nails. What a whakadoo that woman was. Maybe she mellowed out by now. She would be in her mid to late 80's now. Sheldon was the baby of that group. 

Have a blessed day everyone! Thanks for the chat J. 

Therefor it shall be, when the Lord thy God hath given thee rest for all thine enemies round about, in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee for an inheritance to possess it, that thou shalt blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under Heaven; thou shalt not forget it.

--Deuteronomy 25:19

 

MORE THAN JUST EAGLES

Good morning.

Please forgive the grammatical errors.

Absolute heartache, folks. Seems one of the eaglets belonging to bald eagles Jackie and Shadow in Big Bear (California) has died sometime in the night during the last snowstorm. Heart wrenching. It is uncommon the experts say for mama bald eagles to lay three eggs and have all of them hatch. It's difficult for bald eagles to safely nestle all three chicks consistently in their brood patch, a small patch on her underside that is used to keep chicks warm. Papa Shadow has one too. Mother nature can sometimes be cruel for us human observers. No one can say with any degree of certainty what happened to the third chick at this point. All we have are what we saw on camera: There was a terrible snowstorm. Mama Jackie was buried in snow several times. She is a good mama feeding and nestling all her chicks. Then in the morning one chick was not seen on camera all day/night. Some say they later saw one chick lifeless on the side of the "nest bowl" but who knows for certain what they saw. Like many others I too scanned the nighttime footage over and over on the night the chick went missing and no, mama did not accidentally fling her chick out of the nest (she would have gone after it immediately and retrieved it if she had) and no, bald eagles do not have that kind of malice to step on their chicks. Birds are very tender and loving with their young. More tender and loving than my mother was! As I mentioned earlier, I believe, because of what we saw on camera and nothing else, one chick simply could not get the warmth it needed in such a terrible snowstorm and died. Mama Jackie and papa Shadow are such good parents. I've watched them now for two winters loving and caring for their eggs, chicks, and each other. It's sad that one chick is most likely dead but there are still two beautiful chicks that are alive and seemingly well and thriving. Go Big Bear bald eagle family! 

As much as I want to minister in the community, the truth of the matter is I don't see a reason to put the energy into it. Genuine love and kindness in people are not the norm nowadays. There's so much weeding out. Too much. It's like dating after the age 50. Near impossible. We're no longer 'Young Turks' (as Rod Stewart sings) who are naive and eager to mate up with someone and change the world. At 50 years of age, we've got war wounds and severe baggage from those wars. We are all pining for a lost love. Women just want to live in peace and men want chaos and drama. It's too much. Ministry is the same thing. People do not want to invest in other people as just people and nothing more. Men want something upfront, a collateral, and women just aren't having that kind of "this for that" attitude. For women it's all or nothing. Ministry is the same way. I much rather write and spend time with animals than fight everyone in person to seek their inner peace and calm. Meh. What can you do. Go with what's easy at my age.

There are men I would love to settle down with but for whatever reason, perhaps early onset dementia, all these men want to do is attack me. Attack what I love. Attack my faith. Attack my interests and hobbies. It gives them a sense of joy. By trying to be controlling they lose the person they want to control. How does that even make sense, fellas. It doesn't. At my age I don't want much just peace and quiet. Fighting does not mean someone cares about you. Fighting and drama is what happens when a person has not yet overcome the chaos of their childhood and past traumatic relationships. If that person does not care to better themselves, they will live in drama and chaos until the day they die... alone. 

UPDATE on the eagles. The third eaglet's feathers seem to finally appear in the winter nest bowl confirming a lifeless chick. It was a miracle and a longshot for three eaglets to be born at the same time to begin with but we're nonetheless grateful to these eagles. They give Americans something wonderful to emotionally invest in. Bald eagles are our mascots and because of the current nightmare in our White House these eagles represent for us a hopeful future. Let's watch the remaining two eaglets grow big and strong!

I would LOVE to work with animals. No humans. Just animals. Go back to being that Gen X'er in the woods coming out only for supplies and out of pure curiosity to see if an asteroid hasn't turned everyone into zombies not that I'd notice the difference these days to be honest.

UPDATE on the eagles: Papa Shadow removed the dead chick from the nest setting it aside, and Mama Jackie later flew off with the dead chick to a place unknown. God speed baby chick. It's so easy to humanize these eagles when you're invested like I am, when you need to stay hopeful for our country at a time when there's seemingly no hope. It makes me happy there are people invested in these eagles as I am. It makes us feel connected and loved in this horrible political climate filled with so much animosity and divide. Can't we all agree seeing our country's mascots and their chicks survive and thrive in terrible storms is the symbolism we Americans need now.

I really miss my friend Sheldon. He died a few years ago and I really miss him. We were dear close friends since 1992 until 2020 when high emotions regarding Covid tore our friendship apart and then he died a couple years later. Almost 30 years we were closer and happier than two people could be. We parted ways for a few years when I got married but we continued to call and text each other. I never loved anyone like I loved him and now he's gone. We were both stray cats. Misfits. Outcasts. We were perfect. And then something like Covid tore our friendship apart. Never saw it coming. He's the only person who shared my sensitivities. I would give anything in the world to crack open a bottle of red wine with him and snuggle on the sofa in front of his fireplace like we often did every winter. I've been thinking about him a lot.

Being back in California is where I need to be. It's home. It breaks my heart that dear friends have died but they're still alive here in California for me anyway. I may never find anyone to laugh and love like I did with Sheldon and my friends who have since died but that's okay. Like that saying goes: "Young people look ahead. Old people look behind."

Back to writing my book. God bless. 

*Logged onto the FOBBV cam just in time to see baby eaglet point its butt right at the camera and take an epic birdie white poop shot at it in black in white. Too funny.

GREECE & ISTANBUL CATS

Good morning.

Please forgive the grammatical errors!

It's settled. In six years I'm going to Istanbul and Greece. Both areas love cats. The locals all love and care for the cats that live there. I wanted to take the trans-Siberian train through Russia, but we all know that's not going to happen now. Hopefully that idiot currently in the white house doesn't start wars with Greece and Istanbul.  

I feel awful. Just awful. Some poor kitty was looking for shelter last night, stared at me through my bedroom window for five minutes, and I was not allowed to give it shelter because my house host forbids it which is entirely their right. Their house their rules, I get that, but it's my money and I can take it elsewhere, rent elsewhere as is my right. I chose this house because in their ad they posted "pets allowed" but that wasn't true. English isn't their first language. I give them a pass for that but it also means I should rent where I can communicate easier with my host, yes?

Nonetheless, I feel horrible for denying that poor cat. I prayed to God Please watch over this precious kitty and find it shelter. Please care and watch over all your cats and animals. Cats are a creation of God put on Earth long before us wretched humans. Cats, unlike dogs, are outdoor animals. Dogs won't survive outdoors. They don't have the physicality. Still, it's cold out at night and currently raining. March/April showers. The next room I rent must love and allow cats. Must house at least one cat. If I'm going to spend thousands and thousands of dollars to rent a room at least one cat must live in residency. A room I rented in Vegas two years ago south of south Summerlin had two glorious cats. If I can't find a room to rent in LA that has cats, then I'm renting that room in Vegas again if for no other reason than they have cats. Turning away a living creature seeking help is the worst feeling in the world. I never want that feeling again. Life is too short. I would give my last breath to help a cat. You don't have to like cats, but we humans also don't have to knowingly hurt them. I feel just awful.

Someone's dog was left out in the rain this morning. I heard the poor doggy barking and howling. Finally, the owner must have let doggy in the house because the howling stopped but hand to Jesus, I almost called animal control. YOUR PETS COME FIRST. Always! In Vegas if a dog is left in the car in the middle of a sweltering summer civilians have the right to smash a car window and recue the dog. I assume it's the same for a baby. HOW people leave their babies "accidentally" in a sweltering car when it's 118 degrees Fahrenheit outside is beyond me, but they do, and they continue to kill their babies every year. Every year people in Las Vegas murder their little children by leaving them strapped into their car seat when it's 118 degrees outside.

Unpopular opinion: If you want to murder your own children I'm not emotionally invested. I'm just not. That's your kid. Your crime. Your sin. I have no emotional stake in the game. You made that child. If you murder it that's 100% on you. But animals are everyone's responsibility. Smart as some animals are they still don't have opposable thumbs like we do and we're on THEIR land. God made all His animals docile and loving. Only humans went bad. Very, very bad. If you murder a child that you made that's 100% your sin. If you harm a cat or dog that God made that's everyone's sin and God will sort that out with you if His disciples don't sort you out first.  

I pay attention to God's creations as they were made. Humans were last therefor I pay attention to them last. 

I value people based on how they treat servers in restaurants, how they treat animals, and how far they go out of their way to help others. 

One good deed a day is all it takes to make the world a better place. I will never understand how people knowingly intentionally make the world a worse place. EXAMPLE: The measles has landed in Los Angeles. (We were vaccinated for measles when we were children weren't we?) It's being reported the authorities traced the measles in LA county back to someone who flew on China Airlines flight CAL8/ CI8 and then spread it around to many different LA businesses. Here we go again. Deja Vu. These are the locations being reported to have been infected with measles:

• Wednesday, March 5 between 7 p.m. to 10:40 p.m.: Tom Bradley International Terminal (Terminal B) at the Los Angeles International (LAX) Airport

• Friday, March 7, between 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.: Cloud 9 Nail Salon, 5142 N. Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood, CA 91601

• Monday, March 10 between 8:15 a.m. to 10:30 a.m.: Superior Grocery Store, 10683 Valley Blvd., El Monte, CA 91731

LAX to NOHO to El Monte, and this person didn't know they were sick? They knew they were sick and spread the disease around anyway. If you're sick stay home. Stay away. Exile. Isolate. Don't purposely make others sick. This is why I love animals more than people. Animals are innocent. People are not. People have become wretched and wrought with sin. I must have been reincarnated many times over as a cat. Why this time as a human is unknown to me. I'm sure God has a plan. 

Moving on...

After my doctor's appointment six days ago, my gut health has improved 99.9%. My doctor advised me to take Zenwise enzyme and said she and her entire family take Zenwise enzyme for their gut health. I got a bottle. Love it. We have to remember to drink plenty of water even when it's cold out and after 50 years of age add a daily enzyme before or after every meal depending on the instructions. I thank my doctor in prayer every day since. Finally, a doctor who gave me some sound advice - a woman doctor of course. Having men doctors in the past confirms my belief men really don't know anything about how a woman's body function.

People in Istanbul and Greece appreciate and love mousers unlike here in America. People in America think cats owe them something. People in America are selfish and feel owed for being alive, feel owed for being male, feel owed for being female, feel owed just because. It's nauseating. People here love things and themselves. My six-year goal is Greece and Istanbul. And to think five years ago I wanted to visit Russia. Huh. Not anymore.  

In my older senior years, I can't fight people anymore. I don't want to. In my younger years I was not bothered by drama because I grew up around drama. Drama was in my nervous system. Who else got shingles in their twenties? Hands? no one? Just me. Believe it. I never wanted to convert people into seeing the light of Christ anyway but more than that, Christ is a relationship like all healthy relationships you have to build it. You don't just get to have a relationship with Christ because you're suddenly in a bind. It's not about ceremony (Catholics!) It's about praying, reading the Bible, loving Christ, and having honest conversations with God.

(sigh)

I can't get that kitty out of my mind. The way it sat patiently outside my bedroom window out in the cold and rain waiting for me to let it in - only I couldn't therefor I didn't. I never want to feel this way again. Never. I'm sorry God. I'm truly sorry. I failed you.  

In six years I'll be in Istanbul. I'll be 62 years old in six years, retired, and in Istanbul petting cats. WHY I'm looking at senior housing on the west coast when I could just move to an area that loves and adores cats. Thank you, Istanbul, for giving me a new retirement goal! Six years and counting.

Saint Gertrude of Nivelles is the patron saint of cats, gardens, travelers, and widows. Amen. That is my favorite saint. I'm not Catholic but I was baptized Catholic (had no say in the matter I was a baby) nonetheless, I love saint Gertrude. She is me. How could I not lover her. 

But to the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent, in whom is all my delight.

--Psalms 16:3

"AT YOUR AGE"

Good morning!

Please forgive the grammatical errors!

I cannot stress enough how important it is to take care of your health. trust this old gal when she tells you please take time to care for yourself head to toe, inside and out. Yesterday I had an exam... no... I need to go further back:

For the last year I knew something was rumbling in my gut but everything in the digestive areas were functioning properly, so I blew it off. Then two+ weeks ago I had wicked food poisoning, I recovered, or so I thought, celebrated by having Indian food (something I've eaten a dozen times before) and got sick all over again. Two weeks later my gut is still bugging me on and off. 

I had a doctor's appointment yesterday and the doc said "at your age" things take longer to heal including the lining of my stomach. Additionally, I have preexisting medical conditions that may also slow the healing process. The doc said take a daily enzyme and/or probiotic, continue eating bland food, the brat diet, and give it a couple weeks and see if that doesn't help my gut recover. Because I'm somewhat of a hypochondriac the moment a friend of mine suggested it could be E.coli from the whole milk cheese I used in my quesadilla resulting in food poisoning, I mentioned the quesadilla incident to my doc and she said it's more likely "at your age" I'm hypersensitive to dairy especially since I never had whole milk cheese before, plus my stomach lining will take longer to heal "at your age" and because I don't have a fever, blood in my poo, any gut pain, no rashes, etc., she said there are no signs of it being E.coli. "If the enzymes and probiotic don't work, though I'm certain they will, come back and see us." 

Yesterday I started taking one kind of enzyme and a probiotic. I'm already feeling better, I think. Just a few more things to add to my daily medication regiment.

Also, I now know to give myself a pedicure before going to my doctor appointment, holy cow. Because I'm a (type II) diabetic the PA checked my feet. My feet! Funny moment, the PA saw the big callus under my right index toe and couldn't stop poking at it. "Is that a callus?" She asked in disbelief poking it with her index finger. *poke poke poke* Indeed, it is! I've worked on my feet since 1985. It's a big honking callus. *poke poke poke* 

After I showered this morning, I gave myself a pedicure. "Your heels are cracked. You're going to want to keep moisturizing your feet. Trust me." The PA said. Indeed, I do. You're the PA. I'm the patient. I will heed your advice. I am not one of those people who thinks I'm smarter than a doctor. Smarter than our current president, yes, but not smarter than a doctor. I moisturized my feet after the pedicure.

After my doctor's appointment I met with a friend who lives nearby for breakfast. Still on the brat diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast) I ordered a side of dry toast and a side of over-medium eggs. The eggs cost $100 but it was worth it! I haven't had eggs in months. They never tasted so good. The doc said kimchi and sauerkraut were good for my gut also, and since tofu and soybeans are bland, I picked up plain hummus, and firm tofu to go with the kimchi. After days of nothing but bananas and chicken noodle soup, that tofu with kimchi was amazing. 

At 56 years of age the amount of flatulence my body produces every night could blow the roof off the Sistine Chapel. I have to blow my nose every twenty minutes it seems, and the gas is ridiculous. I can never share my bed with anyone ever again. Even my teddy bear is like, "Can I have my own bed."

The probiotic I started taking is the wrong one, I think. I quit taking it. The doctor said she and her entire family takes Zenwise enzyme. This is not a paid advertisement, but the doc said her entire family with different gut issues from IBS to food sensitivities all take Zenwise and love it. I ordered a bottle yesterday due to arrive today. 

I quit smoking around 2000 after my second throat/lung infection. I don't know about you, but I miss smoking. I really enjoyed it. I quit drinking in 2022 following my stroke(s). I was mid second stroke when I learned about the first one within the last seven days. It's interesting to me that after an MRI doctors can see you're about to have a massive stroke and be able to stop is from happening. Still, I miss drinking. I miss having margaritas and bottles of red wine. I miss drinking. I don't miss drugs. I've had a couple gummies in the last two years but getting stoned isn't my thing. I love being UP as my twenties could document.

I lost about thirteen pounds. Some of the weight loss is from recent gut issues and not eating but most of the weight loss is from taking Levothyroxine for my Hashimoto's. I've been on levothyroxine for my hyperthyroidism for about eight months and it really does suppress your appetite. It's okay. I can stand to lose weight. 

Until my stomach lining heals enough where I can go out confidently, I'm just hanging in, knitting, binging Law & Order, writing, listening to my gut make terrible grinding noises, and eating the most boring diet in the world. When my tummy gets better, I'm having birria tacos, and then a big giant cheesy fat sloppy double smashburger. Woman is not meant to live on applesauce alone! Especially at 56 years of age.

I got into a "non-argument" fight with a buddy yesterday. He's older, 71 years old, and behaves as one might expect a 71-year-old man to behave. The "non-argument" was for my love of bald eagles. My buddy goes through phases where anytime I mention something I love; he tears it down. I mentioned the bald eagles in Big Bear, California, Jackie and Shadow and their newly hatched baby eaglets, and my buddy proceeded to call bald eagles, "murderers". Don't ask. I have no idea. He's 71. "Bald eagles eat their young! They're murderers! Murderers! MURDERERS!" He kept aggressively screaming at me over and over. Crazy, I know. I've been following Jackie and Shadow since December 2023. Last winter they had two eggs and neither one of them hatched. This winter I'm so excited that all three of their eggs hatched. After telling my buddy this he immediately attacked me by calling bald eagles, "MURDERERS!" So, I hung up on him. Pick your battles, know what I'm saying. I suggested changing the subject away from bald eagles after his first rant about them and he got defensive. "WHATEVER" he said, and then for good measure to get the last word in he repeated, "MURDERERS!" I hung up on him. I don't know why he attacked me like that. It's likely due to his age. And he wonders why he doesn't have a girlfriend. "ALL the women my age were forced out of Los Angeles because of rent gouging!" he says. That's right, there are zero women over the age of 65 in the entire city of Los Angeles population of 9.6 million.

With this BS political administration we are currently forced to endure, the birth of these bald eaglets is a sign of hope for us (sane) Americans being as how bald eagles represent America. Why anyone especially an American would call bald eagles "murderers" is beyond me. It's crazy. Again, in his defense he's 71 years old. He only recently inherited a computer (with Windows 8) and still does not have a cell phone because "they cause cancer." Did I mention he's 71 years old. FYI, my dad learned how to use a cell phone when he was 60.

I'm used to my friends and family not sharing my interests. I married a man in 2003 who shared the same retirement goals as me but our current interests and relationship values at the time were completely different. I'm used to watching plays and movies about Shakespeare alone. I'm used to hiking/walking alone. Watching sunrises and sunsets alone. Traveling alone. Watching movies alone. I'm used to caring for animals alone. I'm used to caring for myself alone. I'm used to being alone. I cannot/will not change my hobbies, interests, and values for other people. Other people however get moody and angry when they have to do what interests them alone. They blame, accuse, and get aggressive because they feel entitled. They also don't know how to express themselves or have conversations like a mature adult. That's why I say pick your battles. Don't be afraid to walk away if it gets too heated. Save your sanity. Preserve your health. Tomorrow is a new day. If their goal in life is to get the last word in because it makes them (somehow) feel like they're winning, just hang up on them. Don't suffer fools. Amen.

They have corrupted themselves, their spot is not the spot of his children: they are a perverse and crooked generation.

--Deuteronomy 32:5