The Bloomin Onion is, in many respects, the worst thing since sliced onions. Bloomin also indicates a starchy oblong thing that kept the Irish alive, but in the present tense...like...”That onion is bloomin! “ they should call it The Zoomin Bunion. Who’s zoomin who? That’s what I say. Said.

He’s a doughy blue blood, been wearing cardigans and attending phony military schools since he was a young little shit. I guarantee he’s never been in a proper scrap in his life. Not only would just about any breathing human annihilate him in time measured in miniscules, he would fold like yesterday’s laundry.

Or, you know, fucking get rid of zoos.

Rewind this scenario 150 years and it’s every classic shirty was terrible novel I had to dissect in Brit Lit. Ain’t that complicated. 1. Cholic 2. A wealthy dowager. 3. Fucking horses. 4. Rain. 5. Some fucking butler. 6. An average of 654 pages. I had a wonderful time in that class!

I was eating alphabet soup at 5. And now.

Reading the headline ruined my day. What, Goop-face wasn’t available to present a power point on healthy looking poop? There’s way too many types of Kit-Kat bars. For Christ’s sake, ride the horse that brought ya. There’s a lot of moving parts here.

Hi love

I like to drink!

I’d Trumpcare equals endless supplies of cheap Xanax.....sold!

I feel infinitely stupider for having read the passages Ivanks “wrote.” Must be the experience Jezzies endure reading my now grey posts. (I’m trying out this new self deprecration thing.)

Thank you!

Is any of this a surprise anymore? Reprensible, yes. But this seems to be the rule now and not the exception.

Pinot Noir.... not a Pinot Noir.

What the fuck?

I’m looking for a little out of grey love.

You too?!!!

Heavens buffet

Yep. Still grey.

Testing. Testing. Testing for Greyness.