How I Lost 12.5 Pounds & Regained My Soul

Naked, as in truth, and uncensored, I share my daily quest to survive as a woman and artist, while dealing with the complications of a full life, meddling in politics, loving my children to excess, totally permanently married and on a never-ending diet. While my soul is in constant need of repair and redemption, I struggle to do the right thing. In the meantime, let's all double the love. (Love, not sex, you fool). All posts are copyrighted material.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Why do Democrats always try to play nicely?

Good afternoon, my precious Georgia peaches~

Sigh. Today while making amends to someone for a thoughtless action, I realized how anxiety-driven I can be when it comes to those I dearly love. And how reluctantly I hurt their feelings, even inadvertently. Of course, my husband, children and grandchildren are my life along with my beautiful, but disgracefully behaving country.

Okay, so after decades of love and acceptance and a thirty-year anniversary, shouldn't I be over these neurotic concerns? Nope, 'cause I'm a democrat, and we democrats are always looking for love in all the wrong places.

Of course, we snipe at each other like competitive siblings, but when it's time to come together we shake hands, make-up and forget the past.

Not so with the other party. They don't have that same desire for reducing conflict on our side of the fence.

After all, to them we are just a bunch of bleeding heart liberals, commies and socialists comprised of the varied and insignificant middle class, people who are socially responsible enough to want to help the parasites of society like the poor (both working or not), disabled, lazy aged, lousy illegal immigrants who feloniously break the law by coming here and doing our dirty work and the other non-trust fund babies.

Yes, sometimes I worry about blowing my cover in a business sense, and then other times I stand in the park in a peace protest while somebody is snapping pictures. Luckily there are a lot more democrats needing mortgages services than fat cat republicans. Hey, that is just the way it is.

Okay, so some republicans buy big houses and keep their stocks invested in pharmaceuticals, but most of them don't need big mortgages if they are truly republicans in the modern sense.

I guess I am not particularly discreet. Oh, well, the price of principles.

Heck, I feel like I could write a country protest song, and it would go something like this (sung to the tune of Oh Susanna!):

Bin Laden was the son of Saudi friends,
So you and daddy told a lie,
Said it's all the fault of Saddam Hussein
And all Americans began to cry...

You claimed the terrorists would hurt us deep
If we didn't go to war
That we'd better fight 'em over there
Or they'd ruin our lives forever more...

Oh George W.... Oh how I cry for thee
For I come from old New England
With a violin on my knee....

You bombed Iraq and hung Saddam
But still you are not through
You've sent more soldiers to Iraq
To protect ole Halliburton's crew

You sent your second in command
In his finest kevlar threads,
To threaten and harass the frightened grunts
Still moping up the dead...

Oh George W..... Oh how I cry for thee
For I come from old New England
With a mandolin on my knee...

You got mad and wouldn't play
Cause we caught you cheating the poor
When you gave away the treasury
And filled friends' barrels with oil.

You claimed Bin Laden and Saddam were mates
While you lied 'bout uranium ore.
But it stuck like a peanut in your throat
And knocked you to the floor...

Oh George W.... Oh how I cry for thee
For I come from old New England
With a guitar on my knee..

While the rats start to leave your ship
They step over you on the ground...
We Dems congratulate ourselves too soon
As injustice still abounds...

We struggle on against all odds
Trying to knock you from that Tower,
Small comfort that your evilness
Will be judged by a Higher Power.

Oh George W... Oh how I cry for thee
For I come from old New England
With the Constitution on my knee.

Oh, George W... Oh how I cry for thee...
For twisted as you have become,
Impeachment is your destiny...

Okay, so it's not top forty. Just blame it on stream of consciousness.:)

Clark County Diva


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