Someone bash me over the head with a blunt object. I just spent twenty minutes on LinkedIn reading comments from racist, ignorant individuals, most of them hiding behind their MBAs. Why? Because someone had the temerity to post the official White House photo of Vice President Kamala Harris. That’s why.
A simple, elegant image that incited hate speech to the extent where I’m of the belief that this country, America, is plunging into the toilet faster than we can say, “Enjoy the go.”
Before you wonder if I jumped into the fray, I’ll admit that I did. Briefly and rationally…
A couple of days ago, I received my usual ass-kicking via email, from Medium, telling me that they’d be sending me eighty bucks and change for my previous month’s work in the Partner Program.
Yes, I am disappointed. Again. However, before you turn away in disgust, this isn’t my standard rant. I’m happy to have the $80, but I want more. And I want more for other writers, here, as well. Why? Because we’ve worked hard and long and we deserve it.
I know. I know what you’re thinking. So please don’t reiterate the tired twaddle that writers HAVE to…
The other day, I received an alert that someone commented on a Facebook post that I’d made months ago. The gist of my post: Trump supporters need to face the fact that the asshole lost, and move on. That was it. I didn’t expect to “draw a crowd,” nor did I think about it, after the fact.
It turns out there were actually two, new comments. One from an old friend and co-worker who I’ve since blocked as she displayed a level of ignorance that I simply cannot tolerate. Previously unbeknownst to me, she is a Trumpster and managed to…
A tiny sign of the times: Shooter bottles of booze at a display near you.
At our local market, the protocol for purchasing alcohol in pint bottles and smaller necessitated a trip to the customer service counter where whoever was manning it had to unlock the booze cabinet after checking the buyer’s ID.
Today, while shopping I passed a large display that I had never seen before. And then, I backed up. The showstopper: Lots and lots of little shooter-sized bottles of booze. Scotch, bourbon, whiskey, vodka, gin, and more. …
Although I am not a person of faith, I pray all the time. Not to a “God,” necessarily because I am fairly certain that he or she has tuned me out, but, to our cats who have “crossed over,” my dead parents and in-laws, to the birds in the sky and the squirrels on the ground…it varies according to my mood. And these days, my mood is all about “doom.”
You see, I don’t pray for myself. Rather, I send up prayers for my husband, who has been struggling with health issues that have only become direr through the years…
Like a freshly-hatched love affair, it’s all so rosy in the beginning. So utterly promising. You court them. They woo you.
It’s on baby. It’s so on.
“Getting to know you” emails fly back and forth as you both tentatively test the waters of what you hope will be a mutually beneficial relationship. (Albeit, more beneficial for you.)
Butterflies swirl like a discarded Puffs in a stiff breeze when your intended suggests a PHONE CALL!
“Oh, Lordy,” you think. “This is it! This is fucking IT! …
“Heart-Breaking News.” Earlier today: A vehicle rammed into two Capitol police offers, injuring them both. One has since died. The perpetrator has died, as well.
Thus far, there is no clue as to what incited this individual to such an act of insanity.
To my fellow Americans: What the ever-loving F is going on in this country? Aside from the ghastly spectacle that is the Derek Chauvin trial — and you’d better have a strong stomach to stomach it — there have been twenty mass shootings in the last couple of weeks. TWENTY!
How did we lose our way to…
Why is former Minneapolis police officer, Derek Chauvin being tried in front of a jury? Why are we wasting time, money, and other resources to host a dog and pony show for someone who clearly, in front of our very eyes, committed murder, taking the life of an individual who was not a threat to him, or his fellow officers?
How do we know this? Because we saw it, with our own eyes.
I’m not naive, nor a fool. I understand the concept of “innocent until proven guilty,” but when “innocence” is not a factor, and it doesn’t appear to…
Dear Morons,
Let me begin by saying that I love to drive. Especially on a nice day. Windows down. Breeze ruffling my hair. WXRT-FM, Chicago’s Finest Rock Station, cranked up high.
Or rather, I used to enjoy the ride. Why? Because it appears that your kind — rude, insensitive, thick-headed, and just plain moronic — have multiplied like those “influencers” who probably dictate your every move. …
Why do people take pictures of themselves taking pictures of themselves?
I mean, I don’t get it. I understand taking selfies (not really), but why show yourself taking your own picture?
Am I missing something? Is that because I’m not influenced by influencers?
That reminds me of my brief Ashley Madison excursion — for research folks — where a guy would post a photo of himself, standing in front of a bathroom mirror with a phone hiding his stupid mug. What the hell is that all about?
“Here’s me, holding up a phone in front of my face. …
Long-time writer and big-time dreamer. Screenwriter. Cat mama. Red lip aficionado. sherrymcguinn@gmail.com