How Gnomes Turned Me Into a Pro Liar

I love and collect trolls. You know them. Those little naked bug eyed creatures with Don King hair.

Well...

Somehow my cousin mistook my troll affection  for gnome affection. This has resulted in endless gifts of Temu gnomes for every occasion, holiday, or fancy. Gnomes on motorcycles, hippie gnomes, gnome couples, gnome blankets, gnome t shirts, gnome tree ornaments, gnome coffee mugs, gnomes of different sizes, gnomes of resin, fabric, plastic, ceramic... I think she's bought every gnome she's seen on the website. 

 

And so when she came east this Fall, she brought my Xmas gifts. About 2 weeks later, my PA and I were moving the kitchen trash bag of wrapped presents out of our way when the decision was made to open the packages and figure out what to do.

 

Yes, more gnomes. All gnomes. I made a list of them in order to thank her on Xmas Day. Then we did gnome redistribution. To Goodwill. And that, I thought, was that.

 

Except that there was a small bag of flat cardboard gnome tree ornaments that she was keen on having my aide find and add to the tree. And she called today to make sure we did.

 

This is when we became pro liars. Yes, Alicia said, we found it and will add them to the tree. The truth is, they were probably sold weeks ago and I never even looked thru the packet. Yes, I'm guilty. Yes, I'll call her in a bit and tell her how sweet they are. And live with the lies. And at some point I'll have to tell her I'm off gnomes. But that day is not today.

 

And that's how gnomes turned me into a pro liar.

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Midsummer Week in Bizarro World

 

I'm still trying to get my sea legs in this bizarro timeline. It was thrilling to see all the protests, and the feeble parade he threw for himself. One third of my entire town turned out to sing on the Commons. It would've been great to go, but wheelchairs and grass and rain don't go well together. I miss protesting!

 

Today Cheato von Tweeto's leaving the G7 "to attend to the Iran-Israel situation". My ass. I'm sure he's just being ignored and can't take it. Narcissists are vampires for attention.

Right? Every day is surprise day. Except it's usually bad, and quite surreal.

And I have the best vodka on Earth and can't drink it. These are the times we're living. Perhaps my mother was right, this is Hell. Where else would be so beautiful and cruel?

 

However, this may be the 3rd weekend of no rain or snow in 2025. It's raining today, of course.

 

Be well.

x

 

Does Anybody Remember Laughter?

It's been a lifetime since I last visited this blog, much less posted. I find little to say and less I want to think about.

My country's government has been usurped by a 40+ year-old plan hatched by plutocrats and those who can be bought. We are headed directly into a fascist dictatorship, fueled by hatred and paranoia from the gullible who voted for the Antichrist. My brother and his family are among that ilk. I can barely speak to him. And how he went from being a Berner in NJ to a MAGAt in FL is a mystery.

There are inhabitants in the government that I absolutely hate with the white hot hatred of a thousand suns. Never had that pure hatred in my 66 years. This is what we've all learned now; how to truly hate. 

If we make it we can all sit back and laugh, but I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXrpFxHfppI 

(copy and paste; Gurgle won't let me post the hot link)

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Whatwhatwhatty?

 Blogger has changed many things, including my ability to comment on posts. It all saps the will to live, much less blog...

Ye Aulde Lang Syne

 I've had this blog for a long time. I should do something about that. 

Current Miniscule Irritant: Sheldon not mentioning the origin of Y as in "Ye Olde..." It was never a y sound; the Y is from the runic symbol, but a th usage/sound. It's "The Olde..."

Current Major Irritant: Governments everywhere. Everyone's nuts. WTF

This is not Covid, part 5. This is a grammar school head cold. Runny nose and all. And lots of coughing. Better to get it over with because it's

 

THE HOLIDAYS

 

again.

Dinner with Plague tomorrow, vegetarian. My blood sugar is a mess in December anyway. Turkey dinner with Wendo on the Solstice. Then Open House on Xmas Eve, the afternoon gathering before facing the commitments. Doing a Scandi smorgasbord this year. Xmas Day is me, Harry Potter, and a rib eye steak. Then there's a break until we do The Very Crompton Christmas on the 6th.  I ignore New Year's Eve, something I never thought I'd do back in Ye Olde Universe.

But I never thought I'd adore being alone, either. There are surprises in getting old. Not a lot of good ones, but surprises nonetheless.

The theme this year was division. Everyone is divided, and not in two. We're in many pieces. It's happened several times before in my recall and it's scarier every time, though I'm not sure why. Is it worse every time? Do we lose ground, get perverted, sink a bit lower each time? Well yeah. That's not to say it's a bad thing, it's real. We've been living in such programming for a long time and as Zappa said:

“The illusion of freedom will continue as long as it's profitable to continue the illusion. At the point where the illusion becomes too expensive to maintain, they will just take down the scenery, they will pull back the curtains, they will move the tables and chairs out of the way and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theater.”

Same as it ever was.

May we look at the brick wall with grace and humor.

Peace and love, fellow babies.

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