My sister had to fly to NYC in 1970 or thereabouts for an abortion. (From Tennessee). A horrendous and financially devastating thing for my whole family, but she was able to remain in school because of it, and have a wonderful, loving brood of children later as she wanted.

Poor, sweet Shelley- how mean to post a current picture of her next to a 40-year-old one of her lovely young self! Since I became Old (how?? Still don’t get it), I realize I look pretty damb good ‘for my age’ but still wouldn’t want to see myself side-by-side in my 19-year-old larval stage.

Isn’t there some kind of way this completely unnecessary moving of the entire circus to NYC every weekend can be billed to DJT? I can’t imagine what the cost of such a ridiculous endeavor would be to the taxpayers. And he’s really, really rich, isn’t that right? He told us that many times! So if he insists on laying…

Judging from my own small town family members spread across several Southern states, I think a large part of the thinking evolves from religious fundamentalism. Once you get knocked up, welp, that’s that, Mindy Sue’s havin’ a baby, and can’t nuthin be done about it except start buying diapers! Even where there is…

*sigh* if only he could make President-Elect Baboon vanish- I would def pay to see that!

And- this is the state that produced Marsha Fucking Blackburn.

Help me, I live in Tennessee. A [literally blood-] red state. Where my lone blue vote doesn’t do a damn thing. (I don’t live in Memphis or Nashville). I’m sickened.

Bunny rabbit salad for Easter, composed of half a canned pear laid on its flat side, with two cloves stuck in it for eyes, and iceberg lettuce. Something made the ears and tail- carrot slices maybe? I remember eating one of those cloves thinking it was candy; thought I would die.

Cracker Barrel used to have a baked pineapple casserole thing that was most delicious, and involved cheddar cheese with crushed Ritz crackers on top. Now dammit, I want some!

Elvis approves!

I like bananas in their original form, but banana things make me gag. Banana bread, banana pudding, ugh. And I live in the South, so everybody thinks I’m weird.

Thinking outside the box here:

On top of every other reason, it enrages me that we have elected a fifth-grader as POTUS.

“[Trump] only sleeps three hours a night.”
Among other things, this is really frightening to me, after growing up with a Bipolar I mother. She didn’t sleep much either and she made my childhood a living hell. I’m still in therapy for it and I’m in my 60s.

Wasn’t Patsy’s character a satirical takeoff of Ivana anyway?

Am I the only one who keeps mistakenly thinking- oh I saw that years ago already, with one of the Sheens in it, and aliens whose legs bent backwards.

UGH Marsha Blackburn UGH (I live in Tennessee). There are a very, very few women on this earth I call cunts, and she is at the top of the list.

Booger eaters with three teeth

Take that anger and let it turn to something else.

I’ve heard friends in retail say that it’s not so much fat-shaming as it is class-shaming. Larger sizes tend to be sought and purchased by the folks in the lower socioeconomic strata, and the smaller sizes by those in the upper. If you own a fancy boutique selling expensive clothing, for the most part (the thinking…