February 2021

This came up on the inter webs a little too late last week for me to include it in my Feb. 19 round-up of Ted Cruz’s Excellent Adventure in Cancun but, luckily, this story has legs and he’s still getting shit for his shameful abandonment of his constituents during Texas’s sub-freezing weather catastrophe and for being, in general, an all-around anti-American neo-Nazi dickhead, so — enjoy!

It has come to my attention this past week that Mother Nature wants me dead. As I am past my re-productive years, I am useless to the biological mandate and, as such, The Evolutionary Imperative wants me to shuffle off to Buffalo ASAP. I got a reminder of that when, lately, I began waking up every morning with a number of little aches and pains. 

At first I thought that I’d slept funny, or maybe I wasn’t getting enough exercise. It’s been cold and snowy and I haven’t been running 5 miles every day as usual, so maybe it was time to brave the 23-degree wind chills and get back on track. 

So I did, and I still had to hobble out of bed each morning. The only thing that made me feel better was to do the stretching exercises that I normally reserve for a cool-down after my runs. So now I’m doing those stretching exercises first thing in the morning, just to be able to walk down a flight of stairs to give the cats breakfast.

I also have to do them both before and after my runs.

And that’s how I came to understand that this is what it is to age. Don’t take it personally, it’s not you getting slower, fatter, dumber, more achy. It’s AGE. Age is Mother Nature’s way of letting you know that your time is up. The more you can’t take that hint, the more you ignore Her, the more She will keep dropping bigger and bigger nudges until you get it, and do the decent thing, and die. 

Thus (yes, I wrote thus, to show how serious I am about this), coping with aging isn’t static. You have to keep upping the amount of time you spend fending off entropy. Those two minutes of limbering-up exercises that were OK on Monday won’t cut it on Friday. By Friday, your metabolism has slowed down even more — there goes that dark chocolate Milky Way bar you used to be able to have after lunch. The wrinkles on your face hang around all the time — there goes the myth of “laugh lines” and welcome to a new routine of moisturizing.  As for gliding to and fro with supernatural ease, you’ll have to double the amount of effort you make just in order to stay in the same lane that you were on Monday, that is, in the Not-Dead-Yet place (meaning, feeling good enough to think that, if the opportunity arose, you still had a shot at boinking Idris Elba).

And then, by the next Friday, you’ll have to double that. And so it goes. And goes. Until you give up. And die. However, now that I am informed, I will do whatever it takes to stave off the forces of nature that want to make life fattening, fatiguing, debilitating, and demoralizing.

Because I will never give up my hopes of, one day, boinking Idris Elba.

I will never allow myself to turn into Mamie Eisenhower:

Mamie Eisenhower, in 1953. She was 54 years old. This photo frightens me.

Oh, and by the way, last week the fact of my latest birthday, last month, finally hit home and I understand, with every fiber of my being, that I am 65 years old. Fuck.

Thank you to the Dear Readers who sent me birthday wishes. Now you know why I haven’t got back to you yet…it just sunk in. Fuck. 

But I am delighted that I am alive to see the NASA rover Perseverance land on Mars. MARS, people! WE MADE IT!!

For all of you who watched the landing parachute deploy as Perseverance floated to the surface of the Red Planet and said to yourselves, “Hmmmm, that looks like a binary code message to me…” I say YOU ARE AWESOME.

I also think that I need a motto. 

 

Back on Earth, Merrick Garland was affirmed as our new Attorney General, after having his Supreme Court nomination ditched by the Republican Senate when he was nominated by Barack Obama five years ago, and Ruch Limbaugh is still dead and I feel fine:

Our country reached a sad milestone:

 

One year ago, this was the president:

As the House of Representative investigates the insurrection of January 6, 2021, I am stocking up on champagne to celebrate the prosecution of a certain key player: 

 

 

 

 

Speaking of complete fucking idiots:

 

 

 

That’s Philip Grillo, from the borough of Queens, New York. Seriously, are all Republicans shitheads?

Oh, wait…I think I have the answer:

 

Back to Ted News, let’s watch Ted try to rehabilitate himself:

 

 

 

 

 

RAISE THE FUCKING MINIMUM WAGE! Why is there even a debate about this? WHY?!?!

 

 

Fuck South Dakota for sending this guy to the Senate.

 

 

Just remember, whenever you’re having a bad day, that no matter how aggravating it is to be you, at least you’re not John Thune.

 

 

 

What do you call a group of Corgis?

A Cuteness.

 

The latest thing from Japan is — wait for it — bread that looks like hamsters:

Yes, you can eat these, but would you? Peeps already give me the creeps…can I bite the head off of THIS??

Mr. Fluffers is not impressed:

This is a protest I can get behind:

Top Cat is taking me out tonight for Date Night and we’re going for Mexican food, and I don’t care if I have to run 10 miles to burn off the calories because Mexican food is not on my DON’T list:

And now for your weekly Kitty Glow-Ups:

 

 

 

 

 

Shelter Kitty to Hollywood-Ready:

Have a great weekend, everyone. Fight entropy, fight stupidity, fight Covid, fight climate change, fight Republicans, but lay off the penguins unless absolutely necessary.

 

 

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So, we had this going on in the backyard this week:

 

I have three feeding stations for the backyard birds, including this one under the Pinot-Grigio-O-Meter table. We went through 40 pounds of bird seed this week because it was cold and birds use up a lot of energy to stay warm:

The Cardinals were looking particularly picturesque:

Cardinals are cowards, and they won’t scrum with the Blue Jays, Starlings, Doves, and the teeny brown birds for room at the feeder, so I have a trough for them on our kitchen patio because I have a soft spot for dim-witted birds.

Well, the week started off with an acquittal for Trump which I thought was going to be the biggest story so I harvested plenty of snark for you, but then the Texas Shit Show happened and then Rush Limbaugh died, so we have a LOT of content for you today. 

Let’s get right to it:

What was true for Trump’s first Senate trial is true for his second:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nancy Pelosi has appointed retired Lt. General Russell Honore, who was the commander of the task force in charge of the military response to Hurricane Katrina with leading an independent investigation into the events and actors of the January 6 riot at the Capitol. Honore has a very active Twitter account and in the past he has been quite outspoken about what he saw on TV that day. Now that he’s in charge of rooting out the truth about the insurrection, I think it’s going to go well for Senator Josh Hawley of  Missouri:

But let’s catch up with what ex-Trumpers have been doing to keep themselves busy lately:

 

Yeah, we have to pay closer attention to these scumbags:

 

 

 

 

 

Here on the north shore of Long Island we got a foot of snow on the ground on February 1, and then we got 4 more inches between February 6 and 8, and today we’re going to add about 8 inches on top of that. So when we heard that Texas has its first snowfall since, oh I don’t know, 1812, it seemed funny:

 

 

But then the power went out, and pipes burst, and people froze in their homes, and hospitals had to evacuate because they had no running water, heat, or electricity, and it wasn’t so funny any more.

 

But let’s be clear why this happened in Texas:

 

 

 

 

 

I mean, even ARKANSAS did better in Winter Storm Uri:

 

 

The Republican mayor of Colorado City in west Texas, Tim Boyd, was fed up with constituents whining that they expected to have power and heat from the utility companies that they pay money to every month:

If you have the time, you really should read what he wrote about God and the people who pay taxes for his salary and public services who he was elected to serve. I have taken the time to type it here for you because, lordy, it’s classic Republican political philosophy:

Let me hurt some feelings while I have a minute, he begins. (Remember, this is what he posted in a public forum for all to read; he’s PROUD of this):

No one owes you are [sic] your family anything; nor is it the local government’s responsibility to support you during trying times like this! Sink or swim it’s your choice! The City and County, along with power providers or any other service owes you NOTHING! I’m sick and tired of people looking for a dam handout! If you don’t have electricity you step up and come up with a game plan to keep your family warm and safe. If you have no water you deal without and think outside of the box to survive and supply water for your family. If you are sitting at home in the cold because you have no power and are sitting there waiting for someone to come rescue you because your [sic] lazy is the direct result of your raising! Only the strong will survive and he weak will parish [sic]. Folks god has given us the tools to support ourselves in times like this. this is sadly a product of a socialist government where they feed people to believe that the FEW will work and others will become dependent for handouts. Am I sorry that you have been dealing without electricity and water: yes! But I’ll be damned if I’m going to provide for anyone that is capable of doing it themselves! We have lost sight of those in need and those that take advantage of the system and meshed them in to one group! bottom line quite crying and looking for a handout! Get off your ass and take care of your own family! 

 

Bottom line-DONT [sic] BE A PART OF PROBLEM, BE A PART OF THE SOLUTION!

Mayor Boyd is now the resigned, ex-mayor of Colorado City, west Texas.

Other Texans found ways to blame the Democratic Representative of New York’s 14th Congressional District, Alexandra Ocasio Cortex, commonly known as AOC:

Dan Crenshaw, another Texan politician, blames, uh, non-fossil fuel energy, but a rocket scientist named Holly Griffith ‘stained it to him:

Here’s Holly’s Twitter bio. Note that she’s actually a real rocket scientist!

Wind mills in Texas got a lot of blame, too, for causing the Texas power outage:

 

A guy who ran (and lost) for congress in Texas’ 14th district, named Joshua Foxworth, tweeted that there were too many illegal people in Texas using up Texans’ rightful electricity: 

Here’s Joshua Foxworth’s Twitter bio. See what he lists as his first bragging point:

Where does Texas get all these shitbags from??? Because we haven’t even gotten to Ted Cruise yet and I am fed up with these guys already.

 

 

On Wednesday, February 17, Ted Cruise, the junior senator from Texas, took a trip to Cancun in the midst of his state’s worst human disaster in decades.

Ted Cruz voted against giving federal disaster relief to New York and New Jersey when our states were ravaged by Super Storm Sandy and we here in Too Many Cats Estates here on the north shore of Long Island did’t have power for six days, and he’s a racist anti-immigrationist, and he voted to exonerate Trump at his impeachment trial, and he also voted to negate the electoral votes of Georgia, so, fuck off, Ted Cruz.

 

All this shit with Cruz blew up on Thursday and as of Friday morning, Cancun Cruz is still trending on Twitter. He might not be able to live this one down — it’s like Al Capone getting busted for tax evasion: his constituents were OK with him being the Senate’s biggest liar and asshole, but this trip to Mexico is what will get them really riled up…

 

 

Also, Don Trump Jr is trending this Friday morning for this tweet of his:

Here’s a small sample of the blowback:

And, lastly, Rush Limbaugh finally died on February 17 and as he shuffles off this mortal coil, let’s give him the send-off he deserves:

 

 

 

OK, are we caught up with the current events? Yes?

Then bring on the cats:

This is an old one but it’s still funny. Because it’s true.

 

 

 

And more Kitten-to-Cat glow-ups:

 

 

 

 

Another Rescue-kitty to Handsome dude:

 

 

 

 

Have a great weekend, everyone. May all your brownies be edge prices, and all your days make you feel as good as the day Rush Limbaugh died, and please remember this bit of wisdom I learned on the internet today:

Your chances of being killed by a giraffe are low but never zero.

XXOO

 

 

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Speaking of getting vaccinated. . . 

Top Cat’s two kids in California worked the phones for weeks, and yesterday they finally got us an appointment for the Covid-19  vaccination here in New York state!

It was a same-day appointment so, at 5 o’clock in the evening, we bundled up and trudged through a foot of snow to a hospital in Queens and by 6:30 PM we were shot and half-way to being corona-proof, and sorry that Long Island is still in lock-down mode and we couldn’t go out for a celebratory dinner, or drink. We were that giddy.

The rule is that you have to hang around the hospital for 15 minutes after you get shot (or “jabbed”, as they say in the UK but, interestingly, not in Australia, where they, like us, say “shot”, and where they also call a tight Speedo a “budgie smuggler” and I’ve been laughing all day about that one). The nurses want to make sure you don’t have a bad reaction to the vaccine, so as I presented my paperwork to the attending health care professional in the waiting area, she looked at my form and asked me to say my name.

“Vivian”, I said, wondering if this was part of the screening. You see, Top Cat and I are in the official Old Farts category of vaccine recipients, so maybe the young lady wanted to make sure I still had my marbles, you know, in that I could remember my name and not bore her with stories about the price of bread in 1977.

It was 32 cents! A loaf of Wonder bread was 32 cents!!

Anyway, I tell her my name and she exclaims, “That’s so pretty!” She says, “I’ve never heard of this name before. I didn’t know how to pronounce it.”

This is not the usual reaction to my name. Six times in my life I’ve been asked, about my full moniker, Vivian Swift, “Is that your real name?” Fewer times than that — exactly twice — I’ve had someone say, about “Vivian”, “That’s my name too!” 

It’s a rule. When two Vivians meet, you have to get all excited and become best friends.

That’s because there aren’t a lot of Vivians out there in the  world, but I would have expected a full-grown woman of what looked to me European descent would have come across “Vivian” at least once in her life. So, that was weird.

P.S. My twin sister goes by a nickname that is rather unusual and no one has ever asked her if that’s her real name, although one guy did go, “That’s my dog’s name!” Her name is Elizabeth, but everyone calls her Buffy. 

During registration for the vaccine at the hospital, I was asked “What is your ethnicity?” and I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve ever been asked that. I had to think hard. Scottish-American? White? Anglo? From the gene pool that made Appalachia great?

I went with “Caucasian,” but I didn’t feel good about it. The woman questioning me was African-American and I’m 75% sure that word doesn’t have a whole lot of positive connotations for her.

She also asked me about my religion. I briefly considered saying “None,” but decided to be more pro-active. I said, “Atheist.”

So, that was weird, too. Top Cat and I assume that these questions were for statistical purposes, and not a way to make the experience of getting a longed-for vaccination in the middle of a pandemic even more bizarre than it had to be. Because it was bizarre.

Here’s the surprising thing: The hospital, in the heart of Queens, New York, was practically empty. It was almost creepy. Although there was a loooong line of chairs looping around the enormous lobby, all appropriately socially distanced, there was no one sitting in them.  There was no waiting at all, and we’ve been trying to register on-line for a month. It was Top Cat’s daughter who called this hospital from Los Angeles, got a top administrator on the phone. explained our situation, and got us these coveted slots for vaccination. Go figure.

Once we did the registration, we went immediately into the vaccination tent (it’s indoors, isolated from the rest of the hospital; technically, the tent was set up in the atrium) and signed more paperwork, and then we were seated in another screened-in area with a nurse. We didn’t get shot together. The nurse-to-patient ratio is strictly one-to-one.

BTW, The hospital was giving two vaccines: the Pfizer and the Moderna, and it was random that we got Pfizer but Top Cat says that’s the one he wanted anyway.

I hate shots like crazy, so the most anxious time for me was sitting with the nurse, waiting for the vaccine to be made up. It seems that each syringe is made individually, and it was 5 minutes or so before mine came, sealed in a plastic envelope, delivered on a tray. 

“This will be a little cold,” the nurse said, and I’m thinking that I’m about to get shot with fluid that was, until 5 minutes ago, being stored at -80 degrees centigrade (-176 degrees Fahrenheit), and I began to sweat. Turns out she was talking about the alcohol swab that she rubbed my arm with. It was cold. I flinched.

The shot itself lasts less than a second, and I managed to jump at that, too. “Ha ha,” the nurse said, “You very nervous!” (She was of Asian ethnicity.) Another nurse, passing by, said to me, “How does it feel? Pretty good, right?” I said, “It does feel good!”, and she said, “Congratulations!”

My arm didn’t hurt right away, but it aches this morning. It’s not like I’m injured or anything, it’s more like the ache you get from thinking you can start doing multiple dead-lifts on your first day of weight training and the next day your body says,  “Don’t pull that shit again.” I speak from personal experience.

We get our second shots on March 4. We’re going to plan something awesome to celebrate what, for us, finally feels like The Beginning Of The End.

Meanwhile, in another news this week, it bears to be repeated:

And this happened, when the MSNBC news commentator, Rachel Maddow, was sued by the network that broadcast the My Pillow guy’s two-hour video filled with baseless conspiracy theories about the election being rigged and placed blame on electronic voting system companies Dominion and Smartmatic:

And a reminder of how different it is to not live in Trump’s America anymore:

 

And another Republican who thought Covid was just like the flu had a little rendezvous with karma on February 7:

Meanwhile, the House of Representative sent their Impeachment managers over to the Senate to begin presenting their case that Donald Trump should be found guilty of denigrating his path of office:

 

 

The Republicans, who want to avoid dealing with the merits of the case, are trying to hide behind procedural arguments, such as the one about it not being constitutional to hold a trial for an ex-president:

And this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is to get you all in the Weekend Mood:

 

 

 

 

From Kitten to Cat photos:

He started out a rescue, and now he’s a beautiful boy.

 

 

It’s the same tie.

 

 

 

Have a great weekend, everyone! We’ll meet here next Friday and vent about how the Republicans have let Donald Trump get away with inciting sedition, bandwe’ll do it together so we don’t have to scream into the void alone. 

Don’t spend too much time googling for photos of “budgie smugglers”, because before you know it, it’s early afternoon and your blog is late and you are regretting all your life choices that did not make you Australian. I speak from personal experience. 

 

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The second major blizzard of the season rolled onto the north shore of Long Island last Sunday.

It’s still exciting to prepare for a big snow dump. You check your refrigerator and your books and your  laundry and your Netflix queue to make sure that you have enough supplies to tide your body and mind over if you get snowed in for a few days.

I put my Champagne-O-Meter on the den patio table (with bird seed — the Cardinals are too shy the and Blue Jays are too big for the feeder so they dine where they can scootch their feets in the food) and went to bed.

The next morning we woke up to this:

Winter Storm Orlena was a big, slow-moving nor’easter … and that’s the last time I’m using that term because I don’t like it. I grew up in Pennsylvania in the 1960s and ’70s and I never heard the term “nor’easter” until newscasters started using it in the early 1990s. I think the Weather Channel made it up, and turned us all into  old squinty-eyed farmers from Maine, giving the sky a side-eye and predicting a “nor’easter”. 

P.S. The Weather Chanel also came up with the gimmick of naming Winter storms. But I’m OK with that. It helps to keep them straight.

Anyway, the storm was slow-moving, so we spent the day watching big, fluffy, lazy snowflakes making a thick Winter blanket.

By early afternoon, the snow was mixed with rain:

The big question: Would the snow cover the tippy-top of the Champagne-O-Meter???

 

Those ears belong to Bibs, watching the birds dine on the food that I waded out, four times that day, to throw down for them.

Yep. Taffy certified Winter Storm Orlena at an even 12 inches (30.5 centimeters) here in the backyard of Too Many Cats Mansion:

The s-l-o-w pace of the day made Kimmy fell asleep and have sweet Winter dreams (of tackling Taffy when he least expects it…she’s really a pest and Taffy is her favorite target):

We didn’t dig out until Tuesday. Shoveling snow is something that Top Cat and I both enjoy, and it’s been too cold for me to do my daily 5-mile runs, so I was thrilled to have something to do!

Our snow-shoveling season was delayed a bit because Top Cat couldn’t find his snow-shoveling gloves. He kept saying, “I thought my red gloves were right here. Where are they?” pointing to the credenza in the kitchen that we call Chuck because neither of us likes the word “credenza”. 

“Have you seen my red gloves?” he asked me. 

I said, “You don’t have red gloves.”

“Yes I do,” he said. “They’re the gloves that I use for snow-shoveling. I’ve had them forever. My red gloves.”

I said, “Let’s look in the glove shelf in the hall closet.”

“They won’t be there,” Top Cat said. “I put them in Chuck’s top drawer. I know I did.”

I go to the hall closet and pull down some gloves from the glove shelf (where we keep all the gloves).

“Oh!,” Top Cat says, very surprised. “There they are! My red gloves!”

For the record, these are Top Cat’s red gloves:

I protest, “Those aren’t red!”

Top Cat considers this carefully, and looks at them closely as if seeing them for the first time. And he says, “Oh. Well. They’re not red now. But they used to be.”

It’s the little things like this that make me glad I married Top Cat. Because even when he’s annoying, he’s pretty cute.

It’s stayed cold all week and the snow has stayed beautiful and the Champagne-O-Meter has been outdoors the whole time, and we’re going to harvest it tonight for Friday Homemade Pizza Night. I am really looking forward to it.

I thought it was going to be a slow news week so I loaded some photos I’ve saved from the inter webs since last August to discuss my new hobby, but current events picked up on Wednesday so yes, this is going to be a looooong post, go get another cup of tea.

My new hobby is Saving the Planet. 

If we all buy just ONE item of clothing a year, we can turn the manufacturing of hideously wasteful fashion clothing into a green, self-sustaining industry. Jane Fonda, who is 83 years old, has vowed to not buy any new clothes, saying that she has closets full of stuff that she will just wear out. I don’t think that I have enough stuff in my closet to last me the next 20 years, but I do have a good supply.

I have a thing for jackets with zippers, and I have several really cool jackets with interesting zippers, and I have a really cool Ralph Lauren jacket that I bought three years ago and still haven’t worn yet, so I know how wasteful we are as clothing consumers.

But here’s a way to indulge your taste for cool clothes and still be environmentaly correct.

Jillian Owens has a blog called The Refashionista and here’s how she re-makes thrift store clothes into one-of-a-kind clothes. She can tailor anything, and she reproduces designer looks with $5.00 thrift store finds. 

Enjoy these Before and After shots:

 

I want to do this! As soon as thrift stores re-open, I’m going to find me some hideous dresses and rescue them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lets all do this! 

Well, things have started getting crazy again, so let’s consider what we’ve been through this past week, starting with our coolest-ever Vice President doing the job that we elected her to do:

I got this in my Twitter fed on Wednesday, February 3

Yikes, what a year 2020 was. And 2021 got off to a hard start but. . . 

The biggest news story was the United States House of Representatives held a debate, and then a vote to remove Republican Georgia Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene from her committee assignments because of her many, many psychotic Twitter and Facebook postings that approved of killing Democratic members of Congress, spewed crazy conspiracy theories that Donald Trump was ridding the Deep State of its pedophiles, claimed that 9/11 never happened, and that the mass shooting murders at Parkland High School and Sandy Hook Elementary School were “false flag” operations staged to take away guns from Americans.

Oh, right…she also claimed that the fires that ravaged California last year were cause by lasers.

Lasers from space.

Owned by Jews.

Jewish space lasers.

 

 

 

The Republicans, in a tit-for-tat move, tried to remove Progressive Democratic New York Representative Alexandria Ocassio Cortez from her committee assignments. That didn’t go over too well.

 

The Republicans also tried to remove Republican Utah Representative Liz Cheney from her leadership position in the party because she voted to impeach Donal Trump. That didn’t go too well either. Liz Cheney is still the ## Republican in the House.

The My Pillow guy, Mike Lindell, is famous for trying to convince Trump to declare martial law in December to prevent the Democrats (and 80 million voters) from “stealing” the election. Certain retailers have retaliated by removing his pillows from their stores — Bed Bath and Beyond and J C Penny, for example. He’s also banned from Twitter for advocating for insurrection. 

This is real:

These guys are going to make their pillows in America, with union workers. They will ire ex-cons, and make their product environmentally sustainable.

I’m ready to buy their pillows.

Seriously.

Not for me — I swear by TempurPedic — but for Top Cat. He uses six pillows a night (don’t ask), and he’s due for new pillows. I would love to put Mike Lindell out of business!

The Screen Actors Guild voted to kick Donald Trump out of their union because, you know, insurrection, but Donald beat them to it. This is his resignation letter (and puh-leese, get a load of his letterhead!):

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And now, for something completely different, because as long as there are dogs and cats in the world, we will get through this:

First Halloween for a rescue dog and his human.

 

 

 

Somebody timed the shot of his two cats playing JUST RIGHT.

 

 

This little girl as five cats who love her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Have a great weekend, everyone. See you all at the watermelon festival with your zip-lock bags. Watermelons are 92% water, so we have a lot in common. Meaning, I could cut out the middleman and just soak myself in tequila…yeah. I think that would be kinder to watermelons. Yeah. 

So, as I am putting on my coat for a run to the tequila store, I want to give you one last reason Why You Should Get A Cat:

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