If you’ve read some of my posts in the Archive…specifically during the 2008 Presidential Campaign…you’ve probably gotten the idea that I really can’t stand a Certain Woman Who Shall Not Be Named. There’s not much worse in my book than being a total idiot and thinking you’re a genius, plus you just can’t keep your mouth shut…even when every time you open it you do more damage to yourself and those you supposedly represent than if you JUST…SHUT…THE FUCK…UP.


Maybe I should be happy she can’t keep her oral flaps zipped. The more she spews lately, the worse she sounds, the deeper she shoves her foot down her esophagus. Hell, she should be digesting her left knee right down in her upper intestine right about now. At this rate she’ll be a candidate for a Hoveround and government assistance before the next presidential campaign. Oh no! Let’s watch the double standard kick in, shall we?  She doesn’t want a government health program for the masses, but what do you bet she’ll take government funds for medial assistance if she ever needs it!

I know I’m not spouting anything new here. I’m just letting off some steam so I don’t explode the week of February 28-March4. That’s the week we’re not only not going to write about The Dumb Barbie-Bitch from Alaska. We’re going to do that thing that Arrogant Sociopaths absolutely hate.


Yep. Flip that channel, turn the page, click off the website…completely fucking pretend she doesn’t exist!  Can you sing “blahdadaladalaladadahlalaaaaaah” with me while covering your ears and squishing your eyes up tight? You know…just like when we were kids?

Facebook has a info page here.

Better yet, LeftAction has a petition you can sign here.

Go do it, Join us!

Because that Dumb Bitch just pisses the hell outta me to no end. I can’t even begin to say the vile things I think about someone that bereft of soul.

The only YouTube video I can handle watching of her is this one…cuz she actually doesn’t say a damn thing.

© 2011 D. Kessler

I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t know how to eat like a skinny person. Well, actually, let me clarify. I do know how to eat like one very specific skinny person…the skinny person that I used to be.

For over 35 years I ate what I wanted, when I wanted, in quantities I wanted…and never gained a pound. I was that skinny bitch you hated, the one that wore a size 2 and ate burritos the size of a small child…WITH all the extra cheese and gi-normous glops of sour cream. I ate cake and pie for breakfast, drank breves instead of lattes, ordered fries drowning in melted cheese and dunked them in brown gravy before I washed them down with a full-bodied micro-brew amber ale.

The carbs and fat grams were off the charts. The party on my taste-buds was that to rival an exclusive event on Ibiza…and I drank to match. Oh yes, I drank a lot….frothy girly drinks, heavy wheat beers, sweet liqueurs and of course vodka. Vodka with juices. Hel-LO…can you say calories?

Through all of that…all those years, well into my late 30s…I remained a lithe 5-foot-6-inch 115 pounds.

Oh,I didn’t work out…I didn’t need to. Yes, my feet were my main source of transportation…that and public transit…and I didn’t have a sit-down job, but neither did I have job that required a ton of energy either. I wasn’t running around all day and night, lifting and moving or breaking a sweat…almost never. I just was that lucky girl with the amazing metabolism.  Until…

I’m not sure what happened. Could it be that age really just kicks in one day? I mean, it was like…*snap!…all of a sudden I was growing in places I didn’t want to grow. Sure, I finally got the much coveted “Twins”, but the heck made the deal to let their “cousins” move into The Upper and Lower Asslands, and gave permission to all manner of their “extended family” to take over bodily neighborhoods I didn’t know I had!  My awesome expensive club clothes…Lip Service, Catherine Coatney, Betsy Johnson, all of them…no longer fit. My work clothes weren’t comfortable…and my ankles started bothering me if I wore heels for too long.

So, I did what everybody always says to do: I cut back on all the things you’re supposed to, and then even cut them out altogether. It didn’t seem to help, not one bit. I tried going to the gym…I really did…but I all that happened was my appetite went up and, even though I didn’t give in to it, the scales still stayed the same. I try to eat sensible: small portions, whole grains, naturally low fat…it’s not working. It’s gotten so that I’m afraid to eat anything at all…anything…AT ALL…and I get serious guilt if I eat, period.

Add to that that I live with two adults that can eat anything and do and seem to think I should eat what they’re eating, when they’re eating it. AND I have a mother-in-law that thinks the world revolves around pasta and processed/packaged foods, so she delivers such to my house every Saturday…from Costco…gratis. I’m at my wits end.

Don’t get me wrong…I’m not shopping for clothes in the plus-sizes…yet. Oh-gawd-shoot-me-please-before-that-happens. But I sure as hell don’t know who the frak that woman is in the reflection as I walk past the glass-fronted shops and cafes on my way to and from The Slave Box…but she isn’t me and I don’t like her.

No sirree. I don’t like her one bit.

© 2011 D. Kessler

I just don’t get this fascination people have with awards shows. The Golden Globes, The Oscars, The People’s Choice, The Grammys, The American Music Awards, The M-fucking-tv Awards…all of them. One big boring vacuum of anti-entertainment when it comes to actually watching them.

It’s not that I don’t want to know who won the stupid award…and I’ll admit they are pretty stupid actually because they don’t really mean anything. Anything other than that the person getting the award can get/charge more money for their next job, that is. It’s more that the damn show itself is so ridiculous. Bad lip-synced group dance numbers inter-dispersed with bad jokes, some honorary “lifetime achievement” award…all for a big anticlimactic whoopdee-dingdong-day. Yeay. It’s all rigged and industry-political and often the ends are rarely justified by actual talent. Even when the winners of the award are actually worthy of it…it still usually was bought and paid for by agents and producers and publicists that schlepped their client to just the right people in just the right amount at just the right times and promised their first born pedigree pug to make it happen.

Not my cup o’tea, thank you very much. 

So, I will not be watching on the edge of my seat. I will be steering very clear of that channel. I will be watching some rather annoyingly edited film on the CBC or BBC instead. Because, even though watching a film with commercials sprinkled in at all the wrong places is annoying, it beats the hell out of watching  some dancing-in-the-fires-of-hell version of the gawd-awful songs written for whatever films were nominated, sung/danced by has-been talent or wanna-be talent…none of which has any talent really worth watching.

Pass the popcorn. I’m digging in.

© 2011 D. Kessler

The End of the World is apparently closer than we thought.

Today the Seattle Seahawks beat the NOLA Saints in the first NFL playoff game. Yes. The “Chickens” answered the “Who DAT?” with a resounding “US, Bee-otch!” Something to the tune of 41-36.

The sun was shining…ALL…DAY…LONG. In Seattle. In January. Uh…yeah.

But I don’t even care about football. I hate it actually. Lots and lots hate it.

But what I hate worse is that some nut-job, wing-nut, asshole in Tucson shot a 40-year-old Congresswoman…IN THE HEAD…at a meet-and-greet at a SUPERMARKET. Additionally, six people are dead, including a 9-year-old girl and U.S. District Court Judge John Roll, and at least 12 others were injured. Amazingly, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords is alive, albeit in critical condition at the time of this writing.

What the FUCK is wrong with people?!

Some have been saying that both sides have been flinging mud and hate-speech and this is what that shit breeds, blahblahblah yaddayaddayadda. But…uh…for some reason, from where I sit, I ain’t seeing the same level of rabble-rousing, violence inducing rah-rah coming from the Left as I am from the Right. Nope. I see some really hateful shit coming out of the Tea Party and “Faux” News…and I for one am fucking hella tired of it! This tweet I stumbled upon is it exactly:

RT @ArrestRoveNow: Am really tired of ppl saying both sides are too heated. No one has shot any Republicans. Or pro-life doctors.

She Who Shall Not Be Named (but has been named many, many times here in this blog before) had Ms. Giffords on a hit-I-mean-watch list on her site TakeBackThe20.com and Palin urged, “Don’t Retreat, Instead-RELOAD!”

Within minutes of today’s shooting, however, the list been taken down (I’m sure at the advice of someone’s attorney?) but you can see its image, complete with cross-hair targets, here.  That’s some seriously fucked-up shit and if that isn’t inciting people to do violence against “the other side”, then I want to know what is. That’s a very fine line if you ask me.

As a lover of the word and what I consider to be an activist, I’m the first person to defend the First Amendment to The Constitution. But seriously, there’s a difference between freedom of speech and inciting people to do bodily harm, a huge difference between saying you disagree and why and let’s change it through legal activism to putting out propaganda that is clearly violent in its leanings. At the very least its extremely irresponsible and at worst its possibly criminal.

It’s how we get some serious shit hitting the fan like Timothy McVeigh and the Oklahoma bombing…and, yes, like the attacks on 9/11.  There’s a quote running around Facebook and Twitter that really hits the nail on its head. It’s been attributed to Azadeh Ghafari, but I haven’t been able to verify this. In any case, it’s worth repeating:

“Osama Bin Laden didn’t fly planes or directly commit any acts of terrorism…he incited others to do so. Sarah Palin, Bill O’Reilly, Glenn Beck, Fox News, and the Tea Party all have blood on their hands. This is what domestic terrorism looks like.”

My heart goes out to those people in Arizorna that lost their loved ones, my blessings go out to Rep. Giffords in hopes of a full and speedy recovery.

And damn you fucking right-wing nut-job assholes for stoking these fires. Get your fucking ass outta the kitchen. This stew is too thick and too hot and doesn’t need any more of the pepper you keep throwing in, thank you very much!


[Updated 9 Jan, 2011, 2:11A PST: After a little more digging, I’ve found that the above quote appears to be a paraphrased/expanded version of a tweet originally by @azadehg as follows: “Osama Bin Laden didnt fly planes,he incited others 2 do so.@SarahPalinUSA @oreillyfactor @glennbeck @foxnews have blood on their hands #p2”]

© 2011 D. Kessler

We in the Seattle area are experiencing a serious cold snap right now and people are wanting warm clothes. Nothing unusual about that, right? Everywhere in the northern hemisphere it’s winter and most of the U.S. is experiencing various degrees of cool/cold weather. Cold weather usually makes people just want some nice toasty sweaters and scarves and hats to get them though the frigid weather. So, you run yourself to the closest Target or Old Navy and…lo’ and behold, the sales floor is clogged with…no, you’ve got to be kidding…BATHING SUITS?!? What the…?!? Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? Yeah, well, that’s what a friend of mine thought today as she went to buy some cozy clothes for herself and her two daughters. Out-of-place as this seems, there really is a method to this madness. Having a substantial background in retail, I can attest to the prevalence of “summer” clothes for sale in January. The minute the trees and lights are down, the second Eartha Kitt’s voice stops singing “Santa Baby”, the flimsy fabrics start flying. Shorts, bathing suits, sleeve-less tops and light cotton sweaters…they are all geared for a purpose: The Cruise Season.

I know, I know… who the heck goes on cruises right after the Holidays? Well, uh…actually…lots and lots of people. Not only did I do my time on the sales floor at Macy’s for years, but I later worked in the corporate headquarters for a major cruise line for five years. January and February are RED HOT for cruising. Think about it. It’s winter. It’s cold. You’re sick to death of the snow/ice/rain. And you have the After-Holidays Blues…big time. So what do you do? You go somewhere warm, of course! Where better than Mexico or the Caribbean or Hawaii to get that blood pumping, to soak and sun and pretend that you didn’t rack up a bunch of debt over the holidays? Just spend that Christmas money you got from your In-laws toward a cruise and/or cruise accessories, rack up a couple thousand more dollars on the plastic, just f’get about it and sail away! And don’t wait too long. There’ll be nothing left by March/April. Then, once the hurricane season starts, even though the cruises will be cheaper then, so are your chances for fun and sun slimmer. Nobody wants to be on a cruise to Aruba and have to detour or, worse yet stay adrift at sea, to avoid the storm.

Therefore, this initially seemingly out-of-whack clothing in your local department store makes sense if you think about it. So, it’s minus ten degrees Fahrenheit outside and your car is so frozen it won’t start. Don’t buy an $80.00 sweater to stay warm…buy a cruise and GO somewhere warm! Buy shorts and tops and brightly colored crap you wouldn’t be caught dead in at home. Buy BATHING SUITS! Who cares that you just gained over ten pounds eating Gra’ma’s sugar-encrusted Christmas Ham and Aunt Bettye’s sticky divinity fudge and half the cookies you “helped” your 6-year-old daughter make as she insisted they must be made “for Santa”. Cram yourself into that teensy bit of stretchy fabric and parade around the beaches of Jamaica and Puerto Vallarta and the Sun Deck of the Prince Machiavellian of the Seas around people you’ll never see again in your life! Whee! It’ll be FUN. You’ll buy trinkets for everyone that nobody really wants with money you don’t really have and get sunburned and advance your chances on getting skin cancer, to boot!

Well, we can’t all afford to do that, can we? Most of Americans have regular break-your-back-and-mind jobs that we are lucky to get two or three extra days off during the holidays. We can’t take that seven-to-ten-day cruise even with an inside (ie windowless) stateroom on the MS P.O.S. to Anywhere. Why the stores have to rub the promise of sun & fun in our faces in a time of doom and gloom is just downright cruel. It’s mean. It’s Eddie Murphy singing “I gots some iiiiice creeeeeeam and you can’t haaaaave it…”. It’s not playing fair. At least wait until March or April, huh? I mean, really. Let us imagine we’ve shed the weight gained during the holidays, let us pretend that we’ve put a dent in the debt we racked up, let us revel in the soft yarn of that cashmere cardigan we got from our Mother-In-Law…for just a little while.

Let us wait until March or April…we’ll ALL be thoroughly fed up with winter then, right?

But…Oh yeah…when does the hurricane season start? You’ll be sold out by March? *sigh*

Okay, sign me up. Put me on that Ship of Fools in a Chartreuse Spanx swimsuit. What the heck. I’ll never pay off my credit cards anyway, right?

© 2011 D. Kessler

You know, I woke up this morning kinda cranky. That and I’m really tired of hearing everybody go on & on about the stupid christian holday. On facebook, on twitter, in my email…everyfreakinwhere! What, are we all six years old now, jumping up & down in front of a brightly-colored basket full of poison treats??


Dead person dead.
Dead person, nice as he might have been, did NOT get up & walk outta any cave! (ya think?)
Dead person stayed dead & his people made up propoganda to help them try to buck their legal Roman occupiers (yeah, that worked out real well).
Dead person’s people’s fairy story got outta hand…waaay outta hand.
Millions upon millions of people die as a result.
Along the way, they steal perfectly good pagan holiday practices from perfectly good pagan people everywhere and then stamp them out (ie kill them too) while working said practices into their own uses (twist & bastardize…yeah, great.)

Yeah this is a stupid, sad and ridiculous “holiday”.

Now gimme all your jelly beans and shut up about it! 😉

I’m tired as hell hearing about the economy.  This bail-out, that bail-out, this Dow Jones, that Nasadaq, what one person thinks it means, the other person’s babble that says it doesn’t, where “WE” ‘re going from here, where “WE” ‘ve been, why “WE” ‘ve been, why “WE” won’t be…AAARRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!


I realize that I must listen to too much NPR.  But then again…do they think, at NPR or anywhere else in broadcasting, that EVERYone is THAT interested in all this blabber about the same thing every frakin’ day??  I mean…how many of us even understand this whole economy thing, really?

Now, I consider myself to be fairly intelligent. Okay, actually…at the risk of sounding like an elitist arrogant snob of grand proportions…I will tell you that I consider myself to be more than fairly intelligent and definitely more intelligent than your average Joe or Wendy Schmoe.  I read Shakespeare for fun when I was in grade school and understood it, couldn’t get enough of it.  I have followed politics since the Nixion/McGovern election when I was six, as I have previously referenced here in this blog.  I skipped most of 4th grade and went directly to 5th grade because I was bored and I could. I scored high enough on placement tests in 9th grade…those designed to help your teachers and counselors to figure out where your aptitude is and what classes you should take, steering you toward your ultimate goal of college, productive citizen etc…that my teachers and counselors let it slip to me that I would mostly be merely going through the motions for the next few years just to earn enough credits to appease the system to get my diploma (the fact that I did not get to go to college and continue in the steps those teachers felt inevitable, is a topic best left alone for now).  I watch PBS and I listen to NPR and PRI (obviously, as previously noted).  I am not a stupid person.

But I am really tired of hearing about practically nothing else but the economy, the economy, the FREAKIN’ E-CON-O-MEEE!  And frankly, I just don’t get it.

Oh, I am quite aware that we are all fucked at the moment, some more than others, but this whole thing about getting the credit out to the people…though understandable in over-all terms of “get the money moving” and the trickle-down effect to the American people, etc…it doesn’t really apply to me and I’m tired of hearing about it.  It doesn’t help me directly…or quite a lot of other people, either.   In fact, hearing about it makes me feel worse, not better.  It makes absolutely no frakin’ difference to me that they are getting the funds out there to help banks and other financial lenders so that they can do that lending that they like to do so well.  I know that it has to be done, I get the theory of it, I have confidence that my beloved President (yes, for real, I love the man), his advisors and maybe even Congress probably know what they are doing and are taking the steps needed to turn the economy around.  But I also know it’s gonna take a while, and a hard arm, to turn this boat…and I definitely don’t need to hear any more about it while we’re waiting to get our nose to pointed to the shore!  Because…

I. DON’T. QUALIFY.  Not for any of it.

Not for a freaking lousy credit card with even a minimum lending limit. Not for a car loan (like I want a petrol guzzling box o’ tin and fiberglass, no thanks!).  Not for a mortgage.  Not for nada.  Not ever, now, or in the past. 

There.  It’s out in the open.  I have a really sucky credit rating, and always have, for reasons I will not burden you with.  I can tell you that I just have worked my ass off for my whole life, trying to stay ahead of the shut-off notice, the delinquent medical bill, trying to keep my self fed and clothed (barely) and a roof over my head…and I am not alone.  Me…a consumer??  With what money would I be such a thing?!  I haven’t bought a new pair of shoes for myself…SHOES!…in at least 3 years.  SHOES!! (and I love shoes…)  Forget about any big-ticket items like a car or a house or anything else…

So, I wish that the media would just shut the hell up.  I don’t need to hear HOW they are doing it anymore.  I just need to know that they ARE doing SOMEthing…something that will work. Something that will get me a few more dollars in my pocket…and I’m not talking credit dollars.  I’m talking real cash, lower prices at the grocery store and more dollars in my take-home pay.  And if that something makes sense to those economist minds that get all that blathering, let them blather.  Just stop doing it on every news radio & television program every which way I turn. 

And now, I will go scrounge for change in all the pockets and drawers in my  apartment just so I can do a single load of laundry before returning to my office grindstone tomorrow.  Then, we’ll heat up leftovers from three days ago for dinner.  Cuz that’s how it rolls in this house, and many millions of others across the nation…and always has.  No different than last week, last year, last decade.  Not in this house.

Until next time…hopefully soon…

© 2009 D. Kessler

This takes the cake.  Now she want’s a…no, really, let me get this straight…A JOB?!  In TELEVISION??!?!

I’m sorry, but I think Ms. Suleman needs serious mental help…and a proverbial slap in the face reality check.  Who the hell does she think she is that she can be the new Dr. Benjamin Spock for the 21 Century??  All the B.A.’s in the world cannot make a dysfunctional psyche purr like a finely tuned motorcar.  Nope.  There’s more going on here…

OCD much?  Yup, I think so.

Munchausen by Proxy?  Hmmm…I maybe a teensy-bit off with that, but…maaay-be not.  It’s really too soon to tell for sure, but some sort of off-shoot is definitely a possibly.  I mean, preemie babies…on purpose??  And you can’t tell me that she didn’t expect preemies with the “expected” seven babies.  Such multiple births are always preemies…with all the extra medical attention required that follows.

Sociopathic tendencies.  Oh, I’d say Sarah Palin’s got a BFF in the making.  Quick!  Call the Governor!  Nadya even has an autistic child!  That should make them Super BFF!

Whatever the case, I think something is definitely  loose in the belfry…and don’t blame the bats, those nice sweet, cute flying rodent-creatures who’s shit in profusion can turn to poisonous gasses. No, no.  I wouldn’t associate such a favorite creature with this woman. 

She is EVIL…either by profuse stupidity (which I doubt as she is smart enough to get a college degree) or by narcissistic design:

“Look at ME!  Look at MEEE!!  I have all these children AND I can tell you how to raise your kids too…’cause I can see my vagina from my house!  I mean…’cause I know how to give birth to LOTS of children at once!  ME!  Make ME famous and rich!”

Okay.  That’s all I can deal with for now or I’m gonna whip myself into such a frenzy I won’t be able to sleep.  But she make me oh-so-ANGRY.

*deep breath*

*forced smile*

See ya’ll tomorrow…one way or the other…

© 2009 D. Kessler

Today is a rant.  A rant about how infantile the media is and how infantile the U.S. is in general.  About how I am fed up with the propaganda that illegalized marijuana and the repugnance I feel for the whole “puritan ethic” that spawned this continuing fiasco.

cannabis sativa To be clear, I do not smoke the ganja.  I just can’t do it…even though I love the smell of some of the very high quality stuff and would like to make little sachets for my underwear drawer with it.  I. Just. Don’t. And. Can’t.  You don’t want to see me on THC.  I don’t want to see me on THC.  It speeds up my brain even faster than it already is and my physical being can’t catch up.  It’s not pretty.

That said…

Who the frak cares that Michael Phelps smoked some weed from a bong recreationally?!  He’s 23 years old and I bet a similar percentage of 23 year olds still smoke weed as did when I was 23…and as when my mother was 23.  That’s what 23 year olds do.  If he wants to play around with (aka experiment?) with an herb that has been around for many millennia…in moderation…why shouldn’t he? 

Oohhhh…yeah…we forgot.  It’s illeeegal. Here. In the U.S.  Because of some very well placed continuing (false) propaganda. 

And, oohhhh yeaahh…he’s a “role model” for kids because he’s an Olympian Athlete. 

Okay.  So maybe it wasn’t the best idea for him to smoke some weed and get caught doing it.  For the kids.  Okay.  Well, he apologized for that…for whatever reason and because of whatever pressure was placed on him.   I don’t really think he should have had to do that.  But, we do live where we live in the times we live and…


I’m just working myself up over this and I really don’t feel like fleshing this one out.  I just don’t even see why I need to.  It’s a very cut and dried issue for me:  it’s an herb, it’s less harmful than many other substances that are fully legal and even socially acceptable, it’s something that I wholeheartedly believe that the government should legalize and tax the frak cannabis plantout of so that we can fund whatever it is that needs to be funded that isn’t getting funded.

To get up in arms about a 23 year old smoking something that our founding  fathers grew…for both industrial use, as well as personal use…is just plain preposterous to me. It’s ridiculous.

And it makes me SICK.

There you have it.  Talk amongst yourselves.  Add a comment or five.  Tell me what you think, even (and especially) if you don’t agree with me. 

“In the old time…it was not a crime…” ~ Gogol Bordello

Okay. I’ve said my piece for now on this subject.  It’s not the end, I can tell you…

See you tomorrow…one way or the other…

© 2009 D. Kessler

Next Page »