Didn’t they listen? Trump isn’t a pussy, he’s the one that grabs them. It’s not going to end well.

Photo by roya ann miller on Unsplash

The GOP is F*cked.

Schadenfreude. Oh this is definitely schadenfreude. I’m not a fan of either political party but to see the shenanigans of Trump supporters as the GOP attempts to maintain its hold on the senate doesn’t surprise me. When the GOP hitched their wagon to the reality TV actor turned politician, they didn’t expect him to hijack the party and commandeer its future. …

Politicians on both sides lie, but we the people don’t have to accept it.

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

What’s the end play here? To spark protests that result in Martial law? To provoke Iran into a shooting war during which the president cannot be moved?

Oh come on Democrats, the complete hypocrisy of the last few years wasn’t lost on me. I watched as Blasey Ford wept and stammered through her testimony, insisting Supreme Court nominee Justice Kavanaugh did something to her at some time in some place. Where was the evidence?

No reliable witnesses could be found and the case was thrown out…

Is it time to get off this ride?

Image by John Hain from Pixabay

What’s a thinking person to do? Are we rounding the corner or are we heading off a precipice?

At the time of writing, 185,000 people contracted COVID today and 1400 died. The total number of people erased from the mortal coil in the US alone is 245,000. That’s more than World War 1, Vietnam and the Korean wars combined. It’s more than the civil war on both sides. At least 1000 people per day are dying from Covid related complications. How is this not a tragedy?

Trump claims the virus is nothing…

If you’re hemorrhaging money, what would you do?

Photo by Alice Pasqual on Unsplash

Your choices revolve around whether you think money and wealth trumps people and health. It gets real easy to choose an answer when you lay it out like that.

Imagine you’re wealthy, not just millionaire wealthy, BILLIONAIRE wealthy. Private airplanes, custom clothes, swank and bling oozing from your pores. The modern monarchy, gold plated toilet and all. Everything comes up roses for you, and you’ve finally finagled your way into a position of power and influence. Life is better than good. Even your hair still manages somehow to stay put. …

It wasn’t her fault those men died, it really wasn’t.

Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay

When Susan turned 38 she had a black widow spider tattooed on her ankle. Lord alone knows I ain’t no fortuneteller, but that there black widow? That there was truth. Funny how all them men saw but refused to see her for what she was you know? I’m thinkin’ I shoulda told the new guy but it really ain’t none of my business, not yet anyway.

Rick told me she’d got the tramp stamp out of the back of a mobile tattoo van. Trust Rick to know, he gets around…

Explored in fiction. Contains adult themes, language etc. Absolutely not for children.

Photo by _Mxsh_ on Unsplash

I’m the third wife of the Pacific consul. Her first two wives are still alive, though for how long is anyone’s guess. I survive because I’m the crazy one. The one who refused to bed her even though she stole me out of poverty, bony and knobby kneed; still running around with the children of our village though my cycles had long started. We all grew up together, what else could I do?

A few fancy car rides and a handful of pocket change was all it took…

What this modern philosophy gets right… and wrong.

Image by Harsh Vardhan Art from Pixabay

…the human body cannot maintain a healthy state in the presence of the toxic chemicals produced by chronic hate.

My old school friend called me on Facebook. We’d not spoken in 20 years and I was shocked to see how far his hairline had receded. His head looked like a high beach at low tide. I was even more shocked at how (ahem) rotund he’d become. Tbh, he looked like a stranded walrus, long in the tooth, graying and lined by the time and tides.

Yet somewhere in the bigger body was…

Between TERF wars and logical inconsistencies, feminism has painted itself into a corner. Can it survive?

Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay

…as we neared the curb, I heard a loud man’s voice addressing the skinny tween me. “Pssst. You honey in the red shorts, you’re pretty. Come here let me lookit’ you.” And then a loud guffaw that rings in my ears even today.

I was 12 and holding my father’s hand as we crossed a busy intersection. I remember it was a bleak and rainy Christmas eve and we were hurrying back to the car. Mom was waiting at home with our traditional family…

Yes, but most don’t meet the standard.

Photo by Michelle Cassar on Unsplash

There’s this woman I know from the gym, let’s call her Lynn. You’d like her, she’s the smiley one right at the front. Maybe you think she’s a little plain; like me, her nose sits on her face almost as if by accident. Her lips are full, and her stomach pushes her loose T-shirt out like a soft round balloon. …

Jhagi Bhai

Traveller. Dreamer. Human.

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