Getting To Heaven

 

"I wanna try and get to heaven if possible. I'm hearing I'm not doing well. I am really at the bottom of the totem pole. But if I can get to heaven, this will be one of the reasons."

 

~Donald John Trump

August 21st, 2025

Fox News 

 

Is it his physical health that he is referring to, when he says he's not doing well? He has had some problems lately.  He was recently diagnosed with Chronic Venous Insufficiency, which does not sound fun, but is not uncommon for a man of his age. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, I have trouble with my feet as well, but I can self correct by lowering my sodium intake, drinking more water, and elevating them occasionally.  Of course it could be he is considering getting to heaven by tweaking his attitude, but I have seen no evidence of that happening anytime soon, and it really doesn't seem to be that, because he continues to bash the Ukraine, and drool over Putin. That is quite a disconnect, but he still insists he hates the killing that's happening. Maybe it's everything, everywhere, all at once. Maybe he is concerned about his whole life. Revenge, Retribution, Selfishness, Greed, Bearing False witness, and then there is all that Epstein business. I am reluctant to share my personal opinion about that, but I believe that a lot of people were hurt by Maxwell, Epstein, and now by the Trump administration by not releasing the full files. And lets not forget his quest for the Nobel Peace prize! He has wanted that for years. it's all about President Obama winning one. Who knows? I know he hasn't looked physically well these past three months. Maybe life is catching up with him, time waits for no man... or woman. Or maybe he finally understands that there is life beyond this life. That there is a God who will be the ultimate judge to our deeds good and bad. I don't know, but something is ringing a bell inside. I hope he listens to it. I hope he changes his ways, I just won't be surprised if he doesn't. I wish I felt different. I believe truly accepting Christ, and I will be praying for that, as it's best for everyone.

 

 

Diddly Squat

 

 

 

  “Alcoholism, as a disease that ravages the mind and body, often

 becomes intertwined with domestic violence,

 heightening its destructive impact.” 

~Rove Monteux

  What is Wrong with Society Today

 

I grew up in a house with physical and psychological abuse. Both parents did as much as possible to hurt the other. Throwing things, slamming doors, and scream fights so loud that often times neighbors called the police. Mom threatened suicide, and carried out mock attempts, and dad had affairs. But it wasn't all bad, he also provided for us. We had what we needed, and he rarely complained about working, at times overtime. Mom gave me warmest hugs ever, and taught me about animals. It was just all complicated. I am not sure when thins feel apart for my parents, but it existed throughout their marriage. It was sad.

 

Here, it is pretty apparent. P. Diddy is an abuser. He admits to his alcoholism. He responded to this video with a mea culpa of sorts that mostly blames his problems. I am not sure if he has quite arrived at a place of healing from his demons, and if he hasn't, he will remain a dangerous person to be around. Any woman that is in his life right now, should double think her choices. Especially in that he is also accused of other horrific crimes. He had every chance my family didn't both financially as well as access to mental health professionals. I am not sure why all this is upsetting me the way it does, I was never a fan, but I guess I just wonder why having a life of talent, of having the world in the palm of your hand, rarely leads to happiness. 

 

It's a mystery to me. 

 

 

Perp Walk The Fucking Horse Already!

 

"Reality is the leading cause of stress

 amongst those in touch with it."

 

~Jane Wagner

 

 

 Trump Time

 

So, what a year, am I right? Wow, the last 7 months of 2021 have been crazy! Wait... what's that? We are only on day 8? Nah... you joke! What's that? No? You're not kidding? It's only day 8 of 2021? But... when did Trump make that call to Georgia election officials, you know, when he tried to coerce them into finding votes that never existed? That was Sunday? That was last Sunday, and we found out it, gulp, last Monday? Monday of this week? We did? This week? So, that means that it's Friday, January 8th, 2021. Right?

 

Fucking KILL ME. 

 

All kidding aside, I know this shit will be over in time, if nothing else, Trump will HAVE TO LEAVE OFFICE ON JANUARY 20th WHETHER HE LIKES IT OR NOT. But the next 12 days hold the potential for a nothing but bullshit and tragedy. Who the fuck knows what he's capable of? He was kicked off Facebook for inciting violence, and he was in a 12 hour time out on Twitter, for similar reasons, although it seems he was forgiven, because he posted a hostage video last evening, where he faked sanity. Ordinarily I would link to it, but why? We all know they slipped him some anti-psychotics or something, and he will just spazz-out when they wear off, it's a long standing pattern will the Captain Psychotic. But boy, he sure does seem happy. Like he doesn't have a care in the world.

Most of us in the Resistance would kill to possess that kind of smug asshole-ish super ability. The ability to sleep at night with NO CONSCIENCE OR SENSE OF REALITY WHATSOEVER, to worry about! He no doubt tucks himself in at night, hugs his Big Mac, and drifts off to sleep plotting some wildly undemocratic, anti-American shitshow for the next day. It's his "thinking time". No waking with sweat pouring down his face. No night terror screaming, "HOLY SHIT WHO GAVE HIM A FOOTBALL?... while snoring. All we want is to be able to sleep too. Understand? See, I just want to sleep and not worry about the craven abilities and inclinations of a "horse loose in a hospital" or "toddler with a flamethrower."

12 more days until Biden Day.

 

What could happen regarding Captain Trumps?

25th Amendment? Gee, that sounds nifty.

Impeachment? For the second time? Yes please.

Arrest for launching a coup against the United States?

Is it my birthday? You don't have to ask me twice!

 

I mean he has to face some sort of consequences, right?

 

Look what he's done...

 

 

In case your wondering about my original photo at the top of this post, there is a small bird hiding in the tree. It saw me trying to take it's photo, and began teasing me. I am sure of it. It was fun. Birds get used to people with cameras in their hands. It was this past Sunday. I remember its like it was just yesterday. It was Alan, and me. We were at Woodbridge. There were a ton of small birds, of all kinds, flying in and out of trees, making a lot of noise, and playing, and I was happy. It was the beginning of the new year, and I was photographing new birds for my 2021 bird album. That pretty bird is the Yellow-rumped Warbler (Audubon's Warbler). It is one of the first 10 birds to make it into my album, the next day I spotted, a few in my neighbors yard. I was really enjoying that challenge. They are fast little birds. But right now, I am scared and tired and I have a headache. I am unhappy. I want someone to make it stop. Fortunately, I trust Nancy Pelosi, so I know it will eventually stop. Someone will perp walk the horse out of the hospital. Right?

 

 

Enough Is Enough. Impeach The Motherfucker Already.

 

 ~Carly

The Face On The Cup

"I wish you'd help me look into a more interesting problem... namely, my sanity."

~Kurt Vonnegut

I took this picture in, I believe, 2007. I was still going to once a week therapy sessons, and working really hard on eliminating the pain and sorrow that had plaqued me for what felt like forever, but in reality had been since the late 90's. A decade of pain... it can feel like forever, because it was difficult to sit on that couch every week, knowing that for that hour I couldn't ignore that pain.

There was a lot to look at in the therapist's office, but my eyes were usually drawn to his desk. There was a stuffed Sigmund Freud doll. A lot of books about love, and a stack of cups, which never seemed to go down in size. One day I happened to notice that the stack of cups, that usually sat on the side of the desk, was a little off from it's usual position. Rather than sitting on the left side of the desk the stack of cups was now on the right side, fairly close to the couch I was sitting on. The bottom cup seemed to have something written on it, but it was turned so I couldn't quite make it out.

During the session, and in an effort to change the subject we were discussing, I reached over and turned the cups around to get a better look at it. To my surprise, there was a face staring back at me! And the face, not surprisingly, seemed to understand how I was feeling!

I am not sure who drew the little face. Was it the supervising doctor? Was it a patient? I had no way of knowing, but over the next few months I made friends with the little face on the cup. It, in an odd way, made me feel less alone. Clearly the cup face had seen, and probably heard, a lot of stories. Some sadder than mine, some not as sad. The face had wisdom and experience. You can't ask for more than that in a good therapist. Right?

All I know... the face on the cup seemed to understand. :) I miss the face sometimes, but like an old friend I haven't seen for a while, I will never forget the times we spent making friends!

Mood: Happy... and WELL ADJUSTED! LOL.

~Me :)

A Photo A Day For 6 Months: Day ~ 84 Is That A Cannonball?

 


"There may be a great fire in our soul, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers by see only a wisp of smoke."


-Vincent Van Gogh


I think I have shared in the past about my fear of fire. I would like to say that since that time I have worked on it, but no, haven't done a thing about it. I am working on my fear of flying, by booking Alan and I on a nifty little plane ride, featuring an areal tour of the San Francisco bay. Alan is still amazed that I did that, but I have come to believe that it makes NO sense sitting here, waiting to get old, and die. I mean, if nothing else has been learned in my 50 years, it's that there is NO guarantees. I could be sitting right here, posting a blog entry, and have a meteor hit me. Or perhaps someone in a 747 takes a poopy, flushes it, and by some stupid random  series of events, the poop is inadvertently dropped out the bottom of the plane, landing directly on top of my head. Or I could maybe be hit by a wayward cannonball. Hey, just a few months ago, there was an incident, with a wayward cannonball, that took place here in the Bay Area. No one was hit by it, thank goodness, but it had all the potential for great disaster. I am kinda sure that if I had been living in that neighborhood, that cannonball would have found me.


I really do.


I don't know if I need to address my fear of fire at this point in my life. I have been living with it for 47 years. Although I suppose if I did make the effort to fix it, I could go to my grave in perfect mental health, and those at my funeral could say... "Well, at least she worked on that stupid fear of fire she had, but isn't it ironic she died doing what she loved... making triple decker S'mores?" I think the attendees at my funeral would be both proud of me, and also have an interesting story to share with friends. So that would be a good thing... right? See, I could get over my fear of fire not for myself, but for my friends. Yeah. That sounds like a plan. But on the other hand, whose to say my future demise couldn't come from some other equally interesting event. Like perhaps... dying from... oh say... constipation... which... don't laugh... has been known to happen. If that happened, then my friends could always say, "She had some problems, but she was doing what she loved to do, she was working on her shit."


Hmmmm. I am going to think about thinking about getting over my fear of fire a little bit longer... no reason to act hastily.


Right?

Chronic Constipation Killed Elvis Presley




Mythbusters Cannonball Hits Dublin Home, Minivan




~Me :)

Let's see what my pal JR is up to, shall we?

JR
http://jrclinephotography.blogspot.com/2012/08/apadf6-82.html