Precisely

Betty Bowers calls it.

The Look

Today's winner

It’s not as though Liz Cheney has made a habit of stepping outside of her daddy’s shadow, far from it. He didn’t exactly set examples of honesty or decency or integrity, and the policies he favored always seemed to pave pathways for large sums of money destined for his pockets. His most memorable attempts at soaring oratory were his “Go fuck yourself” to Patrick Leahy on the Senate floor, and a smirking “So?” when queried in a televised interview. To Liz’s credit, she did rebuke Gym Jordan on January 6, telling him “You fucking did this!” And her comments in the course of the J1 committee investigation have been commendably truthful, erudite, and precise. That said, she has otherwise been and remains very much her father’s daughter.

Back when Daddy was tasked with finding a veep for W, he looked around and found himself; having resided in Texas for many years, he skedaddled back to Wyoming and rented a small apartment there in order to claim residency (because the Constitution requires that prez and veep cannot be from the same state). Sneaky, that. Liz took note. When her thoughts turned toward public office she went to Wyoming, where she got busted for applying for a resident fishing license, never mind that she actually resided on the east coast and had done so for many years. Sorry, daddy.

Anyway, fast forward a few years. When Liz finally got back to the east coast - via Capitol Hill - she immediately got down to the business of confirming party-over-country, truth and honesty be damned. Until January 6, that is. And for reasons known only to her, she chose a one-time departure from Daddy’s legacy of whatever-it-takes. We may never know what actually compelled her narrowly focused epiphany, but her conscience doesn’t seem to have suffered any beneficent effect given that her House votes have remained 100% in lockstep with the party that now deems her a pariah.

So, here we are at Primary Day in Wyoming. It’s not looking good for Liz. At the end of the day, she will have been clobbered, defeated by the viciously self-serving party ideology that daddy worked so hard to entrench.

Today’s winner: Irony. exit stage right




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A moment of gritch

Just taking a moment to vent, get it out of my system so I can sleep. Anyway.

In the course of the pandemic, I started relying on grocery delivery. My bones have been especially appreciative since wrestling my full granny cart up and down stairs had become increasingly difficult, one hand on the cart and the other holding my oxygen tank. At first it was taking a bite out of my budget, then one grocery store announced it would accept EBT for deliveries, a huge help. And it freed a bit of cash so I could tip the delivery people.

Over the last month there have been a number of times when the orders were delayed; sometimes they arrived an hour or two later than scheduled; other times they didn’t arrive at all, leaving me no choice but to cancel the order and re-order everything for another day. Today it happened again, got the “your order has been delayed” notice and nothing further. At 10pm, six hours after the scheduled time, I cancelled, then placed the order for the third time, then dropped them a note (not that I have any expectation of useful response).

The store, by the way, is Walmart. Yes, I know, I know. But like I said, it’s the only grocery store in this part of Colorado that accepts EBT for delivery service. As much as I hate giving them business, it’s not like I have much choice. Maybe they’re just too busy congratulating themselves for buying the Denver Broncos, oh whoopdeefuckingdoo.

Rant off. For now, anyway.

SNNRRRKK!!!

And then,

Listening to the raid news, and

imagining the moment when they slip the cuffs on, and the conversation gets to "...if you can't afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you."

And I laughed and laughed and laughed . . .



.

Watching the Saturday night debate in the Senate, this came to mind.

And then some!