My Space: New Hampshire’s Sister March – 2017

 

Much as I hate to be political…Not!

I felt the need to voice my concern about my future…the the future of others!

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Mexican-American citizens may worry that their undocumented relatives — even their parents — will be deported. Latinos who were brought to this country as children and to whom Mexico or Guatemala is as foreign as they would be to any of us are worried, as well.

African-Americans, Muslims and other “others” may wonder if they will suffer from the boost that Trump’s victory provides for alt-right and white supremacist groups. It’s worrisome when exclusionary hate groups such as the Ku Klux Klan find something to celebrate in a President Trump.

Who else should worry?

Citizens with pre-existing medical conditions may be concerned about what will happen to them if Obamacare is repealed. And 20 million Americans who have healthcare insurance for the first time may wonder how they will fare under Trumpcare.

LGBT citizens are worried, with good reason, that their recently affirmed right to wed will be reversed by a Trump-appointed Supreme Court. Religious freedom laws are likely to find favor in such a Court, which means that gays, lesbians and transgenders may not be able to participate in our society in the same way as other citizens.

Under a Trump presidency, some women may worry that the government will take over their right to control their own bodies when it comes to pregnancy. Prominent voices on the right call for a ban on all abortions, even in cases of rape and incest.

With Russia right next door, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania are probably worried, since Trump has suggested diminished support for our NATO allies. Iranian moderates — they are significant in Iranian politics — face a setback with the promised abrogation of the nuclear deal. And Trump’s casual attitude about Saudi Arabia’s acquisition of nuclear weapons is sure to revive the push for such weapons in Iran. That should worry all of us.

*John M. Crisp, an op-ed columnist for Tribune News Service

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I had the good fortune to not go to the Women’s March on Washington…2017.  I had done many Marches, in the past.  This time, I needed to be closer to home!

Though, the ‘Sister March in Concord, New Hampshire’ was a much smaller version of Washington’s; it had been a mere mimicry of the country’s new and improved…bigotry of equality…for all.

The crowd had been well-mannered and very open to good conversation.  

New Hampshire has the ‘whitest’ population in America.  I believe the stat is somewhere around 91%.  Which is what it is!  Slowly New Hampshirites are becoming more vast in the melting pot arena.  However, in my lifetime, we will remain mostly cracker and less, cracker and pepper and variations there of.

What struck me had been the one preacher of African-American decent.  And, the obvious, Muslim woman standing next to him…holding essentially, Trump’s America…signs.

One had been about Pro-Life and what ‘Christ’ would have wanted.  The other about…another minority for ‘Make America Great Again’ antics.

My partner and I are openly gay in New Hampshire.  Therefore, we have an acute understanding of feeling like we need to…go along, in order to…get along, in a crowd.

The minorities, at the state capital, that had felt differently about liberal America…coming to end, were very few.  But they were on the scene.

The American dream wished for by some of these sects, is no longer in option.   As stated in the above mentioned article.

However, I felt it might be necessary to point out other groups that may see the light dimming for their hopes and dreams.

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– Animal Right’s Activist

-Persons wishing to see marijuana legalized

-Native Americans

-Persons with above average intelligence

-Groups in promotion of climate control and/or in opposition of Global Warming

-Atheist

-Agnostics

-Small Business Entrepreneurs

-Anyone who wishes to write and/or speak in full sentences

-Anyone wanting to use words with more than four letters

Course, the list could go on for quite sometime.

So to break things up I would like to offer one of Trump’s thoughts about ‘Making America Great…Again!’

“Black guys counting my money! I hate it. The only kind of people I want counting my money are short guys wearing yarmulkes… Those are the only kind of people I want counting my money. Nobody else…Besides that, I tell you something else. I think that’s guy’s lazy. And it’s probably not his fault because laziness is a trait in blacks,”

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Canada…or, Bust!

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She had thoughts of continuing her book.  The book that sat lazily in her mind and on a cloud somewhere.  Perhaps, somewhere over, Canada.

Canada?  Why the fuck not!  Her wife had offered up, Mexico!  And, though, South of the Border did offer some fine Tequila an a funky worm.  The trek from Northern New Hampshire would surely send one of the six cats over the edge.

As a writer in earnest, Marie had known what it was like to be without a homeland!  She lived out of her tent in a friend’s backyard, West side of Key West.  And, though, it may not have seemed like Marie was quote unquote, poverty stricken…She had been living only on egg salad subs and cheap vodka for six months or more.  Occasionally, stealing the lone bike that would lean against the random telephone poles down on Duval Street.

When Marie first arrived, the chickens running loose and the antiquated uni-sex bicycles concerned her.  It seemed the furthest point away from sanity, one drunk could be

…Old Town Key West, was nothing more than a Cuban cigar waiting to be lit up!  Filled with filth and history and tawdry experiences.  Than after a good romp in the Florida sun with Marie’s newly found S n M queen/girlfriend, Jamie, things were not as bleak as they seemed.

After all, egg salad had been known for its nutritional value and vodka had very few calories…Particularly when drunk straight up.

And, whilst playing ‘remember when’…Homeland, popped up in Marie’s chaotic mind.

“Why should I be embarrassed?  Run away like Anne Frank.  Hide in an attic until President Doom and his militia come looking for my green card.”

Why it was just yesterday that a friend decided to ‘quit’ Facebook.  That she no longer could bear the thought of reading post upon post about some jackass who cannot finish complete sentences.  Marie had considered sticking her head in the ‘proverbial’ sand!

Yet, when ever thoughts of pulling a Rose O’Donnell.  Nearing fifty and prone to arthritis, the going rogue and leaving the ‘nice’ girl act behind, all seemed intriguing behaviors for a new-found disgust for America, but physically, not a possibility.

Furthermore, Marie and her wife were not ones to hide out in the woods.  Shit, Marie couldn’t even get, Eileen to eat in cafe’s that were more than five miles past a city line.

Therefore, the idea of moving to Canada!

In the end, Canada, was a bad idea.  Northern New Hampshire was bad enough.  Pipes freezing.  Daylight lasting fifteen minutes.  Walking with the perpetual hunched look for six months out of the year.

And, so, the ‘book’ got taken out of the attics of Marie’s mind and…dusted off.  She had a magnificent secret that she had wished to convey.  The ‘book’ would be Marie’s pride and joy.  Depicting her families lies, murder, suicide, babies born without a country.

Earlier today, Marie had gone to visit her ‘not aging politely or gently’ parents.  As she sat in the sun room (a room that is to offer warmth on cold winter days…but fails to come through on its promises) Marie wondered…

Look at them?!  Dementia, COPD, Martyrdom, Ignorance being Bliss!

The ‘book’ would have to wait for another day.  Today she was busy being upset.

‘How dare my fucked up parents fall into the ‘too elderly and down trodden’ to be angry at them…group.

 

Every Good Lesbian…

Yes I Am
Yes I Am (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A shot in the dark I woke up to find
You had broke all the rules
And you changed your mind
Didn’t I love you good
Didn’t I love you right
Then tell me where are you going
Dressed to kill tonight
Oh this one’s gonna hurt like hell

Answer my prayer and answer the phone
Think twice about it honey
Turn around and come on home
Lover stop lover don’t
Lover stop

Terrorist Captured

Lover lover please

It’s the same old tune
I have sung before
It’s the same old game
It’s just a different score
If there was just one thing

I could call my own
It would be your love
That’s sinking like a stone
Oh this one’s gonna hurt like hell

And they hold you like I want to
And they give you what I want to
And they take it like I want to
And they make it and they break it
Why must you reject me
Why can’t you protect me

There is one or several…I forgot which. No matter, there is an unwritten, not spoken about in large lesbian lingo mixed company, rules of thumb!
Never, ever, never, ever speak poorly of Ellen DeGeneres or Melissa Etheridge to others even if you are being water tortured at a Lollapalooza music fest.
Honestly, I’ve never been one to abide by rainbow rules and I have to get something off my not so voluptuous chest. Ellen is no longer funny! She lost me between the whole white girls can’t dance routine and stumping for JC Penny.
I let that be for now.
Melissa Etheridge? Great gal from Missouri. Can play a six string guitar like nobody’s business. That being said, I have one request:
Melissa, stop with the angry lesbian breakup stories.

Take the song, Lover Please…
Maybe it’s just me but if I saw my partner going out dressed to kill at night she better bring a credit card for the nearest Hotel 6 or Bate’s motel.
Needless to say, after said fictional lover went out to paint the town rainbow and doesn’t have the decentcy to answer the phone…she’d better pack her cat up with her and her grandmother’s needle point of an overly stuffed rendition of a Calico Cat on Crack.
As far as I know, there are  do’s and don’t in any relationship. Way before a sinking feeling happens and the shit literally hits the fan, I would hope any good lesbian has the know how to get out while the getting’s good.

Bring Me Some Water

Ellen Degeneres & Rusty At The Prom

Tonight I feel so weak
But all in love is fair
I turn the other cheek
And I feel the slap and the sting of the foul night air
And I know you’re only human
And I haven’t got talking room
But tonight while I’m making excuses
Some other woman is making love to you

Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see I’m burning alive
Can’t you see my baby’s got another lover
I don’t know how I’m gonna survive
Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see it’s out of control
Baby’s got my heart and my baby’s got my mind
But tonight the sweet Devil‘s got my soul

When will this aching pass
When will this night be through
I want to hear the breaking glass
I only feel the steel of the red hot truth
And I’d do anything to get it out of my mind
I need some insanity that temporary kind
Tell me how will I ever be the same
When I know that woman is whispering your name

Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see I’m burning alive
Can’t you see my baby’s got another lover
I don’t know how I’m gonna survive
Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see it’s out of control
Baby’s got my heart and my baby’s got my mind
But tonight the sweet Devil’s got my soul

Oh, the Devil’s got my soul

Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see I’m burning alive
Can’t you see my baby’s got another lover
I don’t know how I’m gonna survive
Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see it’s out of control
Baby’s got my heart and my baby’s got my mind
But tonight the sweet Devil’s got my soul

Okay, so now we not only have said girlfriend going out in knock me down fuck me boots but we know point of fact…someone else is making love to her and we are at home with a carton of Riunite Red and a carton of Marlboro Reds.
Melissa has single handedly brought about a new musical genre, Angry Lesbian Leftover tunes.
I’ve seen Melissa recently, somewhere, probably on a Carnival Cruise with Rosie O’Donnell. She is aging like a bad case of chronic herpes.
Probably just me for my lyrical version of a love life is more akin to Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover, however, get your big girl panties on Melissa. Stop your bitchin’. It’s no wonder you can’t seem to hold on to a partner, they’ve probably heard all your songs and decided:
NO amount of money in the world is worth a lifetime of breaking glass and temporary insanity!

My Married Psycho Bitch

Modern Mechanix - Wife Swapping (Jan, 1959) .....
Modern Mechanix – Wife Swapping (Jan, 1959) …item 2..Sin in the suburbs (1964 Joseph W. Sarno) – “Number 305” … (Photo credit: marsmet551)

Is there ever any doubt that between two opposing sides, somewhere in the middle there is truth?  The instability between the two is as vast as the deep blue sea!  Whatever the fuck that means!  Someone happened to say it to me once and it sounded good, therefore, it is my intelligent line for the day.

Just because there are fouls in my court; cries, temper tantrums, warnings to perspective ‘romantic’ interests that my mood may be different tomorrow.

In a nutshell while confined to an emotional attic room up around White’s Park, Concord NH this is how I read:

Rest assured that

When I start to make you nervous

And I’m going to extremes

Tomorrow I will change

And today won’t mean a thing.

So, true.  Yet, it isn’t all me.  Although, I’d like to think it is all about me.

What can I say?  Rumor has it by Ambien Grace:

-I know that Kate, my ex-girlfriend, no I am not a lesbian and quit asking, well, psycho bitch left me with nothing but the taste of bad cum in my mouth.  And, I don’t even like going down on women.

-She claimed to be out of the bed of her wife, she wasn’t, and I know it.

-Claimed to be celibate for two years, wrong again!  Rumor has it she had a pretty healthy sex life before, during and after my youthful stupidity entered her life.

-Claimed to love me to the end.  But the more I think of it, our relationship was as a good book waiting in the wings.

How did I put it to her once?

“You should write a book on how I seduced you.”

What does she say?

“First, I’m going to start to blog about it.”

Me:

“That’s one way to start.  You should remember to include, how I started wearing short shorts to work. And, purposely would bend over right in front of you.  Just leave the going up the ass stuff out, Mother Theresa would have a bird.”

Wish I knew then what I believe to be whole hearted truth now.  Book three almost ready for the press and Book Four had already been in production.

There is more to this shitty prescription drug workplace romance story.  I haven’t covered it all.  What the fuck was I thinking?

Kate’s tastes in women were brunette, short, feminine, smart and well hung.

Me; I am square as a shithouse door on a tuna boat, sexual identity not intact, Victoria’s Secret leaves me looking like Rosie O’Donnell with dyed blonde hair and I carry half my weight in my breasts.

Stupid is as stupid does.  How did I put it once?

“Yeah…i could use tutoring in the English department, I don’t test well.  I had to have my mom help me all through school.”

Tru dat!