I used to sound like that

And I’ve gotten raspier over the years. Wonder what’s going to happen to this young lady?

I mean, God forbid she should end up sounding like me.

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When a Panic Attack Strikes

I’ve had a few of these myself, and by “a few” I mean “more than anyone should have to endure.”

No Light Without Darkness

I’d finished another day at work. It had been busy, but not hectic. Nothing really memorable happened that day, it all went by in a blur as I was thinking about my evening plans.

I was going to the cinema with my mum, like we do most Thursdays. Baby Driver, my suggestion, a film I had been excited to see since I saw the trailer two months before.

I love going to the cinema, it’s always been one of my favourite things to go out for, probably one of the only ‘going out’ activities I’ll participate in. You don’t have to do anything except sit back and enjoy a film. And I love films, I could get lost in one of my favourites, they’re a form of escapism for me, and in a reality where I constantly fight with myself, I hang on to fiction.

We’d met for a coffee…

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A post-eclipse love song

“The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore,” recorded at a Four Seasons session in 1965, was intended as a Frankie Valli solo release. It didn’t go anywhere, but the Walker Brothers, a British Invasion group who were not from Britain, not brothers, and not named Walker, topped the British charts the next year with a splendidly-overproduced cover.

Last week, we got to hear the song in a suitably bleak arrangement, courtesy of Saddest Clown Ever Puddles Pity Party.

The stupidest thing the federal government does

I’m sure we can top this Australian effort here in the US.

Watts Up With That?

From The Spectator-Australia

David Archibald

field

This is a tale of idiocy, full of facts and foreboding, signifying that the end times must be surely upon us. A bloke bought a sheep property of half a million acres in western Queensland for $2.0 million. Instead of running sheep on it, he now gets $350,000 per annum under the federal government’s Direct Action scheme for not using the grass on his property. The idea being that the grass locks up carbon and reduces Australia’s carbon emissions. A neighbouring property gets $600,000 per annum. Direct Action is a $1.7 billion per annum program funded from general taxation revenue.

Now people may be paid, from time to time, for not doing things and there may be a rational reason for that.  But being paid for allowing grass to stand undisturbed? That grass is going to rot or be burnt within three years anyway. Not…

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A blowtorch toward a snowflake

A friend of mine hasn’t actually blown her top, but she’s definitely had it up to here:

Listen. Really, listen. I don’t care how much melanin content you’ve got, who or what you want to consentually rub your gooey parts against, or how you’d like to identify yourself. Are you useful? Can you make me a sandwich? Mow my lawn? File my taxes? Massage my feet while painting my toenails? Entertain me?

No?

Really?

Nothing …

Then why for any deity’s sake should I give a flying flip about your well being? Because you feel discriminated against? Show me.

Let’s play.

I’m a woman of color in flyover country. I’ve never been able to pass. I’m a survivor of many things I never deserved, but the sun just keeps rising so I better keep on.

The world has crapped on me and my own over and over and yet, we persevere. You, my dear snowflake, really can too. Yes, you too can own a tiny house in the suburbs with innumerable plumbing problems and mice so your children can go to the right schools and you’ve got the bragging rights of living in the right suburb.

What’s that? Your point is being missed?

So you’re a socialist? That’s awesome. What, exactly, are you contributing to society? From each according to his ability, yes? So, what are your abilities? What are you throwing into the pot for redistribution?

Oh! You have a bowl.

You really should read the whole thing.