Sorta blue Trump Lost

i don’t know why

what will he do now?

we disappointed him

but mostly because nothing makes lefties less active than when they themselves are in power

my parents were never as passionate as when Reagan was in office

how angry we were when Bush was there

when Clinton and Obama were in office i think i mostly just hung out taking care of me and ate a lot of muffins

trump was so good for making people stand up, won’t you miss that?

and now Biden and Harris, you think this is really some departure? more big money, more fatuousness

a swing back of the pendulum

how will i stay angry and active in the next four years? i have to think about this

What should I do for valentines day?

Ahhh yes. The eternal question. You don’t want to fall into the cliche trap of candy boxes and roses, but you don’t want to ignore it and risk the wrath of your beloved. In Estonia we call this being caught between a rock and another rock.

It reminds me of a lover I had once in my youth. You may know Madeline Albright as the esteemed politician, I knew her, in her rosy youth, as Pixie. Flaxen afternoons we spent, browsing bookstores, hand in hand, slurping oysters out of ashtrays, blindfold tennis, all the good romantic things. Then Valentines day came. We had been dating for 3 months.

That morning I woke her up as usual, hanging from the ceiling in my unitard… as she yawned I left the tent to prepare our usual gruel and Sherpa Tea…but when I came back into the love nest I noticed she was unhappy.

“Is this it?” she asked.

“Excuse me my love?”

“Is this all you have planned?”

“Well..yes in fact, I thought after the gruel we might make lots of sexy time and do good snuggling..after all Valentines Day is just a manufactured bourgeois Hallmark holliday, as you described it yesterday yourself.”

As I inhaled the exhaust of her car as she sped off, I realized that you skip Valentines day at your peril, indeed.

why do ladybugs have spots?

This question comes from DJMW-

Like all Estonians, I learned the ways of making sexy time from an Egyptian prostitute named Sheherazade in Knoxville Tennessee. . After the night of awkward yet mind-crumbling discovery, I woke to discover something very strange. This woman had black spots on her back, many of them. They were not hairy moles, but quite shiny, modest and becoming disks- as if made with fine chinese ink or lacquer. When she awoke, and we were drinking mint tea, I ask her about the provenance of these spots. She told me this:

ladybug

“Long ago, as a child, I angered God by killing a ladybug and tearing off its wings. In that moment I was transformed into same and lived for a decade as this lowly slow-flying beetle. When the curse was lifted I remained branded with the spots to remind me of my sin.”

I asked this courtesan what it was like to be a ladybug and what she learned from the experience. Among many things (being able to crawl upside down on a leaf etc) she explained this to me:

“Ladybugs have spots for no reason at all..but they do spend a great deal of time thinking about them and comparing their spots to the spots of others and hoping they have nicer spots than them, etc..some even try to bleach them off…”

So, there you have it asker of this question. Ladybugs have spots like we have freckles, odd features or neck hair- for no particular reason at all.

And yet as Zamboni, knows, there is a reason. We all have “spots” because that is what makes each of us perfect! HA

-zamboni

Zamboni gives a Sermon with Fanny and Fifi

(Friends, the only thing holy about great zamboni is my memory, and also my powerpuff pajamas- nevertheless, I gave this sermon at the behest of my friend Laura in Berkeley. I gave it at a spiritual service, presided over by the church of Fanny and Fifi, that was meant to raise money for paying the lawyers from her icky divorce. Thus my theme… I hope you can enjoy something here..)

The title of today’s sermon is “Bad Divorces are the Reality TV shows of the Gods”

Today’s text is from the book of Zamboni, written by Me, Great Zamboni, chapter 88, Verse 4B footnote on the left.

“And so Shadramalama, the vitupertive sheep farmer, daughter of Ding Dong, said to her husband “I wish to divorce you” and her husband the very disagreeable shrew known in the village as “shadramalama’s man bitch” because no one could remmeber his name– The husband said,
“I will divorce you, wife, but you will regret this day, because I will make this divorce more difficult even than getting lemonade out of a sheep tit.”

And, so Shadramalama, daughter of Ding Dong, filed for divorce, hired a lawyer, was taken to court, had to sell the herd to pay for the lawyer.– Her children were made poor pawns in this litigational swamp and at the end of it all she got the divorce but had not a pot to piss in because even her trusty urine pot was taken in the settlement. And even though her children loved her, and truth be told, were not too fond of the man bitch who’s name is hard to remember, she was now allowed only to see them on February 30th, if that should ever occur.”

Thus ends the word of Zamboni, knower of all and also every single thing.

For what can we learn from today’s text?

Yes, we learn that divorces can be ugly. We learn that Estonian sheep-herds have quizzical names. And we learn that anything in which lawyers are involved is evil. Do we perhaps learn that marriage itself is bad? No…

Marriage, like trying to sail a boat made of toothpicks, is a noble, yet naive act. It is a lot to ask of the toothpicks, you see. So what happens after the text leaves off? What does Shadramalama do next? The text doesn’t say. Does she become bitter, a disbeliver in matrimonium?

The legends are various. Some say Shadramalama lived out her days as an angry spinster, so bitter the meat of her sheep was tasteless. Some say that like Odysseus, she dressed as a sheep and this way sneaked in to see her children on the Man Bitch’s farm.

But the toothless fishermen say something else. They say that from that point on Shadramalama became a blessing to all whose life touched hers. They say her sheep’s milk was the sweetest, her laugh was the loudest, and when she made sexytime, several giant squid jumped out of Crab Cove throwing out gold coins to the children with eight whirling arms.

I believe the fisherman. Because, my friends, trial and tribulation, pain and even lawyers do not make us bitter–they make us better. and if we are patient, even February 30th will come, *eventually.

(*The last thing probably will not happen, but you get the idea)

Thus says, the word of Great Zamboni.