Some People's Mornings.

This is an account of how some people's mornings begin:

My day began at 0500, after a fitful night’s sleep, due to barking dogs and a heat pump on the fritz.

I ventured down the hall to the bathroom for a shower. Upon my arrival at the bathroom, I discovered an ant-infested pile of what appeared to be discarded dipping tobacco. I used the only immediately available substance, cinnamon-scented air freshener, to kill the ants… Or at least annoy them. They curled up in a ball and were cold, unhappy, and stank of the air freshener. Their reception back at the nest would be amusing. Having stunned the ants with stench and CO2, I then retrieved some toilet paper to dispose of the offending blob.

As I went to drop the blob in the toilet, I was shocked to find something already occupying the toilet. It was a TURD. It was the approximate size of a baby’s arm in length and girth, extending down out of sight into the flush opening, with several inches protruding above the waterline, resting against the side of the bowl. It was a rather impressive specimen, being uniform in thickness and apparent consistency throughout its length. It possessed a medium-brown nut-like color, and showed no signs of its producer having consumed corn, peanuts, or any similar edibles recently.

Resting on top of the offending fecal log was a minute quantity of used toilet paper. I was troubled by the fact that the individual who produced this monstrosity had failed to flush the toilet despite having achieved adulthood. I was even more alarmed by the fact that the aforementioned toilet paper scrap was drastically insufficient to have effected a clean ass of the size that could have produced such a monumental pile of shit.

The only conclusion I can draw from this observation is that residing on my house is an individual with no manners, an incredibly elastic anus, and more skid marks in his shorts than can be found on the Talladega Motor Speedway. The truly sad part was that had this reprehensible and mannerless creature attempted to flush the immense creation, it would have gone away very easily, being point-down and not sideways in the bowl. It left rapidly, and I only wished that the assaultive stink, reminiscent of baked camel ass, had followed it down the pipes with the cinnamon-smelling ants, and not remained as a unpleasant mnemonic for the current occupant of the bathroom.

Glorious.

The Great Divide

This is the divide between conservatives (my side) and liberals, completely objectively: We agree there are problems, but we disagree about the causes and the solutions. This one concept covers all the issues, as far as I can tell.
Mostly, conservatives seem to see the decline of personal responsibility as one of the major causes of a great many problems, and we see minimizing the "nanny state" as a way to force the return of that value and behavior. It appears to us that liberals want to grow the "nanny state" as a way of further caring for those who will not care for themselves, and thereby creating more of that sort.
Liberals claim that conservatives are selfish, but we see that as ridiculous, because it is more selfish to want hard workers to work to support the do-nothings. 

Cinderella Story

  We acquired a new feline roommate today. She has been welcomed and cultivated since her advent on our property, though I am sure she doesn't much appreciate it right now. She is currently in hiding in the space between the tub and the sink cabinet in the master bath, and has had food, water, and a litter box provisioned where she can easily make use of all. The other residents have limited access.
  Her grandfather (or possibly great-grandfather...) CinderFace was a magnificently, unabashedly imperfect, simultaneously regal and humble blue-point Siamese tomcat that squawked his way into our hearts some time ago. His demise, untimely, unfortunate, and sorrowful, caused our (my spouse and I) resolution to secure and provide for any of his ilk we happened upon.
  Cinderella, as she has been designated, has her ?grandfather?'s crossed blue eyes and his point coloration, though more of the original genetics of the seal-point have come through in her. She has her mother's stripes, at least on her tail, and on part of her back. She is a beautiful little bundle.
  She does, however, have the requisite claws, which I discovered to my chagrin upon attempting to calm her. There wasn't much blood. A good hand-washing and some antiseptic spray (Yes, that same shit my mother used on me when I was four and which caused me to complain loudly) fixed it very nicely, thank you, and I do not anticipate any debilitating scars.
  I am contemplating the fact that we had decided not to acquire further roommates. In light of the debt we feel we owe the ancestor of this little girl-cat, we had no real choice. The other acquisitions were for other reasons. But the upshot of this is that we are the proud parents of one teenaged, rambunctious male human, seven cats of varying ages, one rather stupid but beautiful purebred beagle, and a large black puffball nominally known as Jynx, whom we believe to be a dog but there is some argument in favor of him being a very small, intelligent and good-tempered bear.

Frustration

Life is such a bizarre creature.
It has become clear that things are getting really weird in the world today. The flippin' Oscars and that bunch of BS. The Russians invade Crimea. Again. Obama and Obama and Obama. The Supreme Court. 4th Amendment. Syria. Putin. Billary.
I hear Hillary has no modesty whatsoever and is absolutely hideous prior to her daily morning makeover.
 Here's my plot: Get rid of every elected official currently in office. Get all new ones, who have never held any elected office before.
Make all the bailed-out companies pay back the money that they were bailed out with.
Instead of paying the companies directly, do this: Take every legal US Citizen over the age of 18, assign to each $1 million. Run this through the credit bureaus and pay off that amount of debt for each, and remit to each person the remainder of the cash. The people with little or no debt would get most or all of the $1 million, and those with lots of debt would get little or nothing. Then freeze prices for two years.
Revamp the tax laws to a flat tax for all: Herman Cain's idea sounded pretty good. Take the tax before remitting the balances to the people getting anything back. 9% of a million each....
This would pay off the car manufacturers, the banks, the mortgage companies, credit card companies, and help the economy.  It wouldn't be any worse than what was done, and it would be far more ethical of the politicians.
Why were the politicians so eager to help the companies directly and leave the populace which they are sworn to obey and serve groaning under their burdens? They really don't care about the people of the Nation. They care about lining their own pockets. Every blasted one of them.

Being American

Three-quarters of my mother's grandparents came to America in the late 1800s from the Azores. They insisted that their children speak English and learn to do most things the American way. Food, arts, and music were passed on from the Portuguese Azorean culture, but pride in nation was all American. They were proud to gain citizenship, and proud that their children would have opportunities in America that their tiny islands would never have made available. I am proud of my Azorean heritage, but make no mistake, I am an American. A Veteran. An appreciative exerciser of my freedoms and rights. And I want our culture to remain American, even as we give a nod to the history from which we sprang, even as we smile seeing things from our various nations of heritage. My loyalty and my heart are in America.