Have you made your bucket list? I haven’t. I won’t. I’m not going to, either.
You know how much money it takes to do stuff? So that means to afford all that you either have to be a trust-fund baby or have a super-awesome-paying job or have invented that app everybody in the world wants to download and you make tons of moolah on the embed ads.
Right? Exactly. So, I’m not going to do make any bucket list because I’m too cheap. You know what? Let me be honest with you here, right now. Frankly, I’m too broke.
This morning on Bacefook I posted a link to the State Department's travel advisory section wherein all countries in the world are listed with a recommendation for whether or not this is a place you want to go.
Specifically I mentioned Mexico because they have an interesting dynamic going on. Five of their states are Do Not Travel zones. Most of the country is Reconsider Travel. And only a small portion is Exercise Increased Caution. (See this picture below.)
In no instance was any part of Mexico listed in blue as Exercise Normal Precautions.
I thought this State Department listing was quite extraordinary because, according to all we hear from the #CrunkNewsNetwork and the FLOTSAM** Sisters, Mexico is a peaceful country that is simply poverty stricken. So, I posted the information from the State Department, after which I got this little nugget of a reply from a person I know in real life, S— F—:
"This is bull shit! Mexico is an awesome country to visit! This was placed just to scare Americans and keep them against us."
Obviously you can tell from her reply that S— F— is from Mexico. [Note the use of the word 'us'.] I say she "is from Mexico" because she now lives in the U.S. I do not know her legal status and have never asked, but I do know she is learning to play guitar so she can play with her husband's successful corporate entertainment band that is mostly hired by American companies. But that is neither here nor there because S— is like a lot of P-HWPCDLRSFC*:
They have no clue about reality.
Now, I could have had a lot of fun with S— F— by stirring her pot with comments like, "Oh, yeah? Well, if Mexico is so great and wonderful, why are you here in Atlanta, huh, huh, huh?" But that would not make one whit of a difference to S— F— while at the same time bringing me nothing but grief from all the other P-HWPCDLRSFC who are just waiting for an opportunity to pile on.
In other words, it would have been short-lived fun. But my question still stands:
If conditions in Mexico are so great and wonderful, why have her people been coming over here for so long? Well, I'll tell you why.
Because the cartels and their government handmaidens have been doing nothing but raping and pillaging the good citizens of Mexico as they've reeled from one catastrophe to the next.
How long before all of Mexico will be on the Do Not Travel advisory?
Every day Mexico is looking more and more like a failed state — and it isn't the fault of the good citizens of the country who simply try to lead good lives and take care of their families.
Of the 208 countries in the world, there are 11 Do Not Travel (which we could rightly say are failed states), 20 Reconsider Travel, 49 Exercise Increased Caution, and 128 Exercise Normal Precautions.
It is only the rare individual who leaves the U.S. to immigrate to the "better conditions" of the Do Not Travel and Reconsider Travel countries. In fact, I know of not one P-HWPCDLRSFC who has moved to claim their jobs and homes in these or other countries. Sure, they take their vacay in U.S. sectors of some of them, but they privately kiss the ground when they get back home.
* P-HWPCDLRSFC is Pussy-Hat Wearing Politically Correct Democrat Liberal RINO Socialist Fascist Commies
*** FLOTSAM: For Liberal Opinion That is Serious and Actually Matters
Unlike a lot of comedians who tell stories about their mothers and make audiences laugh, I do not have any stories about my mother that will make an audience snicker, much less guffaw.
Well, okay. I take that back. There are two. But these stories aren’t funny. They are…awfully sad. I mean very sad…and therefore funny in a sick kind of way.
So I’m not going to write about my mother here. In fact, I’m never going to mention anything about my mother because it just wouldn’t work. It would be…somehow…it would be a downer.
You don't believe me, do you? Of course, you don't because your mother says stuff that makes your workmates laugh. See, you could be a comedian. What a good mother you have, too.
I'll prove to you how not funny these stories about my mother are. There are three stories. They all involved men. One involved broccoli. Another, two varying opinions.
The broccoli story is so sad because my mother was around forty-five and been widowed for a few years. Had not been on a date. Then she went and was, according to her, wonderful and the man just couldn’t stop looking at her. When she got home and admired her brilliant self in the mirror, she found a huge chunk of broccoli in her teeth. She is 78 years old now and has never been on another date. Ever.
So for 33 years she has eschewed man company because she was convinced he was staring at her broccoli all evening.
See? This is not a funny story. That’s why I’m not going to tell it to you. I envy all these comedians that can get up and tell these stories about their moms and I laugh and say, “Wow! I’ll never be a successful comedienne because my mother did not give me any good material.”
Truly, I despair.
The second story was told to me when I was fifteen, though it happened when I was in 5th Grade. Out of the blue, I have no clue why she would tell a fifteen year old girl this thing. Okay? She says, “Well, there I was, having sex with this guy in the motel room and he’s just a-going at it and finally he finishes and lays down beside me and says, ‘So, was it good for you, baby?’ Of course I told him he was so great and it was wonderful.”
Of course, I’m fifteen. What do I know about having sex in a motel room with a man I’m not married to? I know nothing and so I stare at my mother, speechless. She takes that as encouragement to finish the story. “Of course,” she says, “I was lying because…”
And here she holds up her hand and says, “...it was..."
Now, if I were on a stage, the audience — that is, you — would see me make a gesture wherein no words would be needed and everybody would know of what I speak. The gesture would be me holding up my hand with the thumb and index finger no more than two inches apart.
You're laughing. Stop it!
It's not funny. So, there is Mother, winking at me like I understand her dilemma, and I just want the hell out of there, so of course I nod. Anything to get away.
Fast forward two years when I am seventeen. We're driving on a dirt road out in the middle of nowhere through scrubby pine forest, when we pass a rusted shell of a car. Painted on the side in large white letters is —
BEER DRINKERS MAKE BETTER LOVERS.
My mother snorts and says, "They only think they do."
These are the three funniest stories my mother gave me. And that is why I cannot be a comedienne.
The woman was walking across the Costco parking lot. My brain could not process all the disparate information coming from her.
Her shorts were a wildly colorful amalgamation of spring flowers as seen through a drug-induced haze. Her blouse was covered in geometric shapes in fall colors and lined up as Egyptian text on stone.
As if that wasn't enough, her body was covered in tattoos trying to tell a story, but only she knew the plot lines.
Or was she was kidnapped by a band of mad tattooists and offered up upon the Altar of Ink to The God of Art? As if she had no choice in this. And when the design was finished, they dropped her off in a Costco parking lot and said amidst mad laughter, “This is your curse. This is your destiny. Deal with the stares.”
The following is an actual quote from a communique I received from an algorithm...errr...I mean a man. Please do not hold typos, incorrect spacing, and bad punctuation against me.
"Hello beautiful thanks for accepting my request, was hoping we could talk and maybe get to know each other more, i must confess you have an astonishing and captivating smile,Angela i’m sure you receive such compliments on daily basis, well was hoping you on here so we could chat, i know this isn’t a date site or some sort, you just never can tell, would love to get a reply beautiful."
You don't believe that I got this message? Well, take a lookey-loo at the screenshot from Walter —.
Now, as a writer and an editor, I could break down the meanings he has implied. For instance, he would like to get a reply beautiful, that is a beautiful reply.
Now, Walter is correct in that I do daily receive compliments on my "astonishing and captivating smile." And, because I want to stay humble, I limit how often I go out in public so that I don't feed my ego and, you know, get the big head.
But, dang it if they don't chase me down on Bacefook. For me, Bacefook is marketing. I want to keep my face in front of what could potentially be a book and/or ticket buying audience. And since I am always marketing, marketing, marketing, it is only natural I should get strangers to react to my posts and ask to be friended. Of course I'm going to accept most of them because that is how one connects with fans, right?
Still, compliments I don't need as much as I need somebody to buy one of my books, thank you very much. Or a ticket to a show. Look, guys. Boyfriends I don't need. But does that stop these desperate men? No, it does not. Look at what I get on a daily damn basis:
And when I don't reply, I get a simple question mark [see Mr. Chase Lynn Worsley both above and below as an example]. Which question mark, I am sure, is accompanied by a toss of the head and a hurt-feelings shrug of the shoulder and an eye roll of disgust that I did not respond.
These fellows must think that Bacefook is The New Dating Game. But I have one little piece of advice for them:
I wrote this song for author Linda Sands' character Jo Jo Beaudreaux, a truck-driving, crime-solving woman featured in "Grand Theft Cargo" and "Precious Cargo."
LYRICS:
VERSE 1
Jo Jo Beaudreaux’s seen her fair share of sadness
She lost her mama; and she watched her lover die.
Jo Jo Beaudreaux, oh, you know she loves her daddy.
And he loves her back with an absolute fierce pride.
Now, Jo Jo Beaudreaux does not go looking for trouble.
But she always comes back to her buddies,
she’s there on the double. She's got a
CHORUS:
Kimber on her ankle. Trouble she can smell.
When things get rough, bad
guys will go to Hell. She’s got a…
Kimber on her ankle. {Come on. Come on.}
Trouble she can smell. {Come on. Come on.}
When things get rough bad guys will go to Hell.
Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo.
Beau dreaux. {Come on. Come on.}
VERSE 2
Jo Jo Beaudreaux drives her truck on the big roads.
Dead-heading and drawing lines ain’t her thing.
Jo Jo Beaudreaux watches lollipops slide on by
And she nNever feeds the bears, that ain’t no lie.
Jo Jo Beaudreaux, you know the girl likes to boogie.
Four-wheel bumper stickers bring her lots of worry.
She’s got a
CHORUS:
Kimber on her ankle. Trouble she can smell.
When things get rough, bad
guys will go to Hell. She’s got a…
Kimber on her ankle. {Come on. Come on.}
Trouble she can smell. {Come on. Come on.}
When things get rough bad guys will go to Hell.
Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo.
Beau dreaux. {Come on. Come on.}
OUTRO:
Kimber on her ankle.
Watch your back door, bad guys.
She’ll find your twenty.
Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo. Jo Jo.
Jo Jo Beaudreaux. {Come on. Come on.}
Neither Snickers Bar nor
Mars, Incorporated,
have paid Angela
for her endorsement...
and that is a
frickin', cryin' shame
because they are
missing out on a
great opportunity
to have the
endorsement
of a hot mess.
by Angela K. Durden
The Most Brilliant, Most Funniest, Most Insightful, and Absolutely the Smartest Woman in the World
On May 29, 2018, I cancelled my Netflix subscription after having been a customer for over 10 years. There were three reasons for my action.
One: I had been unhappy with their lineup for about 18 months. I like to watch comedians and comediennes. But I quickly found that all on Netflix lineup, no matter the country from which they hailed, were idiots.
And I found they steal routines from each other, so over and over I was hearing the same stories with minor variations.
I have no problem with venom and spit during a routine. Hey, get mean. Get nasty. But then they would all start on their kumbaya moment of "Don't We All Just Hate His Orangeness?" routine while completely ignoring the huge comedy potential of J. Brien Comey and Company.
In other words, they were not equal opportunity jokesters. Please stop boring me, Netflix! And many shows in their distribution package felt that same pushing of a liberal agenda. I was unhappy but not motivated enough to quit the service.
Then I found out that, two: Netflix announces some sort of development deal with Big O and his wife. Then it was announced in a splashy fashion that former ambassador Susan "The Video Made Benghazi Happen" Rice is appointed to the Netflix board.
I didn't like evil being rewarded with my dollars, so I immediately went to my computer and cancelled Netflix. In their Customer Exit Interview, they asked why and gave me an opportunity to choose one. I said "Changing service." They had no further questions.
Why I haven't been to Starbucks in ages.
I've written about the Starbucks schizoid approach to business here and here. I have a Starbucks app on my phone wherein I can log in and pay and get my reward points. I used it all the time. Since I never drank their coffee, and did like the frozen things a lot, it made sense to have a lot of meetings around town at Starbucks.
But with their recent corporate / social justice warrior crap, I haven't been to one of their stores even though I have a balance on my card. So I got a notice from them in the email that looked like this:
Whose business is hurting already? Do I care?
I don't because Starbucks doesn't care about — and is insulting of — their employees and their paying customers. I shall not spend my money there again and have chosen to spend it at my locally owned independent coffee shops and at home.
As a matter of practical fact, such ploys by evil people (and a corporation is a person) will not stop. To think otherwise is to live in a state of constant frustration that does not allow for clear thinking.
Recently, when the little pretty boy lead the lie-in at Publix, the company had to ask themselves the question: Is this the hill on which we want to die? The answer is: No. And, rightly, there is no way they could win a battle against an young, impassioned, "caring" dictator in the making. But can they win the war? Yes.
How do they do that? Knowing when to retreat and having the guts to retreat. These are valuable talents. Not all battles are won head on. The little boy leading this latest charge — Hoge is his name? — and his acolytes will have their day in the sun.
But just like other dictators who also have their days in the sun, this little child will not prevail because he knows only one thing: How to attack. He does not know how to lead. He does not have the guts nor the stamina or brains to do the hard work involved in creating jobs, running a city, state, or government and serving the entire populace.
I daresay there are quite a few besides myself are making the same sort of moves. Like this guy:
But Starbucks is worse because they are a for-profit company throwing their employees — and their current paying customers — under the bus by calling them all racist, insensitive pigs.
Netflix will be losing subscribers (like they lost me) because they are toadying favor — with whom is not yet clear, but you just wait and see. I have left Starbucks.
However, I will continue to shop at Publix because I betcha they have a plan. They aren't advertising that plan to everybody. I mean, why tell your enemies what you're really up to, right? Evil is always well-funded, especially institutionalized evil. But it never lasts for long.
I'm not the only one unhappy with and leaving Starbucks. Watch this fellow:
