Ola' e bem-vindo ao meu blog. And thank you for edging out the Germans, Russians, and Poles. Although I cannot speak a word of it, Portuguese is one of my favorite languages, having heard it being spoken on a regular basis for 15 years by Rob's secretary Maria. It falls beautifully on the ear, like South American Spanish (Senora Lydia Stier, my first Spanish teacher at Lawrence Junior High School, was an Argentinian Jew. My Puerto Rican friends who helped tutor me in Spanish, were always impressed with my pronunciation). It is much prettier than French (although the French are still chasing me up the cyber superhighway, maybe because I briefly studied French in third grade).
My furry kids kept me company as I knit in comfort most of the day; even Darth Cat found his way upstairs, thrilled by unexpected access to the laundry room. Woody did what Woody does best, which is to steal my spot each and every time I get up from the bed. I think it must be a game to him. Look at that grin!
By treating myself with kindness and tender loving care today, I managed to gather a bunch of spoons for Saturday's Tai Chi and continued progress on Project Zero, and Sunday's appointment with the optometrist (my eyesight has deteriorated enormously yet again, and if I don't get a stronger prescription for my glasses real soon, I'm going to have to stop driving. That's not hyperbole, by the way. I would not now attempt to drive someplace unfamiliar), and maybe some gorgeous beef ribs in the oven. There is so much more we have to do but between tax season hours and fibromyalgia, we'll be lucky if we manage to replace the jar of pickled herring.
Oh dear God, not again. Presidential Unmentionables. Little kids learning about blow jobs during the Clinton years thanks to that prurient pig, Kenneth Starr, that was bad enough.
But just yesterday, the most recent Republican debate showed us all that without a doubt, presidential politics have hit a new low. Below-the-belt low, if you know what I mean (wink wink). Apparently to Donald Trump and Marco Rubio, size matters. And where better to announce that you are well-endowed with a panoply of worldly goods, greater than Mitt "On Your Knees" Romney or "Little" Marco Rubio (who like the middle school child he has turned into, started the whole thing with locker room taunts), than on the Fox News Network during the aforementioned debate?
What better way for The Donald to snag the nomination for Republican candidate for the Presidency, quelling the brewing rebellion led by Romney, than by assuring the nation that there is "no problem" with the size of his man bits?
Oy gevalt, I'm PLOTZING! What kind of serious contender for Preident actually talks about this kind of thing ON NATIONAL CABLE TELEVISION? As an American, I am so embarrassed I could scream.
You know what is missing from the whole Republican nominating process? RESPECT. Most importantly, respect for the office, but also personal self-respect, respect for the voters, respect for the member of Congress and the Justices of the Supreme Court, and respect for the foreign leaders he will be expected to interact with.
I have a nightmare involving some kind of Summit attended by a large number of world leaders including President (choke) Trump, in which the parties are unwilling to agree to the American proposal. The Donald becomes increasingly frustrated and angry, and in an attempt to resolve the matter, demands that they all participate in a Summit Circle Jerk. The men all glance furtively at each other, while Chanellor Angela Merkel walks over and slaps Trump good and hard across his face, and former Prime Minister Golda Meir turns over in her grave.
God bless America.