It’s been a hell of a day. In keeping with the rhyming couplet of cattery theme this evening, Odoroki & Hime would like to point out that, really, the downticket races are the biggest thing, so please focus on those. Have a good night. I’m gonna go knock myself out since I have to be at work before 8 am. Open thread for you night jackals.
ruemara is our newest Balloon Juice writer, and holds the honor of being rolled out as a front pager along with the new website.
rumeara began writing at Balloon Juice in 2019.
Wheels Keep Turning
I’m enjoying the heck out of the Biden win in SC. Based on current reporting, it seems to piss on a bunch of narratives. Like, “young black voters are VT Jesus’ base”. Nope, Joe won those. And, “turnout will be boosted because Bern is in the race”. Doesn’t seem to be happening in this reality.
To me though, it’s amazing that Warren is not at least the close second. It makes no sense. She’s got the right combo of smarts with policies that means she’d be effective. Yet, no. It’d be great if we dealt with misogyny & misogynoir on the left. Plus understood that pundits no longer report – they infect the left with doubt and elevate the loudest yet least effective voices in the room. Volume is not effectiveness. I am not a Warren supporter, for full disclosure. But I’m also not going to ignore a big, nasty elephant in the room. We’re supposed to be better, more reasonable. Yet here we are. I won’t even remotely antagonize a Warren supporter for the disappointment they may feel right now. But I will say, there’s 1900+ delegates to be earned. We don’t know who will get them yet. Support who you think meets the criteria. Support the nom in the general. And get those downballot races worked out too. That’s where the real power is hiding. In honor of women running for office, here’s some music to regroup to. There’s still a ton of delegates out there. Open thread for night owls. I’m going to try to get some sleep or something like it.
The Idiot
There is nothing like helping a friend. Barring it involving moving a body*, it’s usually a sign of Being A Good Person. However… I have learned that this is not necessarily a sign of being a smart person.
A few days ago, I went with a friend to their parents’ house, which is being sold, as their father passed last year and it’s become too much for their mother. To say the family dynamic is stressful is a classic case of “My Culture Has a Case of the British Understatementitis”, so I wanted to be there for them. There was also a car. A car that has sat in the garage for about 3 months and is now an ex-running car. The desire was to jump the car, use it to take beloved furniture back to friend’s own home, possibly eat some pizza in a furniture laden home. The best laid plans, juicers, something something, I got distracted, maybe it was important, maybe not.
Said car is a luxury vehicle. As in, a Lexus. Did I mention it’s a 2017 Lexus SUV? Someone had to stay in the vehicle to steer the non-running thing & someone had to push. Being a clever person, I was not about to steer a car I have no clue about, with friend’s expensive car too close, and possibly lose control, crashing expensive SUV into parents’ house or a neighbor’s house. I’m not saying I’m disaster prone, I’m saying I have a tendency to defy statistics.
So, your pal pushed a 4 ton vehicle about 20 feet. It charged up, was driven back into the garage. It died again. So, I did the feat of strength, again. We did some what was needed, we went back to our respective homes. All was well!
Until… I woke up the next day with the most incredible pain in my left shin, ankle & foot. I’ve been laid up for a couple of days and can only walk moderate distances with a cane. I have no idea what happened, so don’t ask me. It seemed really simple at the time. I did push the thing, it moved, I kept pushing until we had the space we needed. Why my body didn’t signal, “Girl, you crazy? Call AAA!”, i dunno. I’m breaking down the scar tissue and slowly regaining mobility, but that was, in hindsight, probably stupid. But good intentions? Ah, well. I can take loving well, if not wisely. Open thread, laugh at my pain, but remember, I did move an suv.
What We Preserve – Ourselves
You guys need a break. It’s far too easy to keep obsessing about what’s going on. Frankly, there’s not much you can do besides educate yourself, get others to know what’s happening and text your Senators via ResistBot to remind them there’s a little thing called rule of law and it doesn’t give a damn about whether there’s a republican or a democrat breaking it. Here’s a nice, soothing open thread for you. Enjoy these pictures of random things I’ve photographed. Show off your talents with some nice calm photos.
Oh, before I go. Obligatory cat pic. Plus a verse. And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all. As in, this is a long haul thing, don’t wear yourself out. So sayeth the Lord.
Impeachment Open Thread 3 – Now with more treason!
Well, I can’t watch. I think I’m going to go run get a flu shot to see if that helps. But you can. Here’s a fresh thread, jackals.
Impeachment Open Thread 3 – Now with more treason!Post + Comments (104)
The War Within – Day 12
These two assholes. Two adorable, jerkified assholes.
For the past 2 weeks, we have been at war in this household. Over food. You see, the little darlings love themselves some wet food. And then they don’t. They have dry – all day, every day – a kitten likes a snackerel of wet throughout the day. Each one gets half a can. We have gone through multiple brands & multiple flavors per brand. Once I id the flavors they like, I add it to the list. So shopping for their food requires 2 stores, 3 brands and about 3-4 different flavors for a month.
They like the wet in a rotation. What’s the rotation? God only knows. The food they liked last week? Now they lick it and look at you like you didn’t try. Did they gobble up the turkey & cheese shreds Tuesday? Then Thursday they hate it. Was Ocean Whitefish & Shrimp tasty as hell on Friday? Monday, it’s the most disgusting thing on earth. And repeat ad infinitum.
I’ve learned not to rage at these unbelievable scoundrels. Especially since I have to watch expenses like a hawk or a cat who is STARVED, I TELL YOU stares at me when I go make my food. Instead, I don’t give them any wet. I cut it back, just in case they’re not really that hungry and if that isn’t finished, I cut it out entirely. Sucks to be you, kiddo. I got thumbs and you got crumbs so go eat dry. It’s like a functioning democracy. Treat it like you despise it and the person with the power will take it away. Too bad, so sad. Unlike those bastards, I usually bring back the foods in a day or so. They know the drill. Sometimes, I swear they take turns biting the bullet and finishing leftovers so they can go, “Ah-ha! See, we did finish breakfast!” Got my eyes on you two. But other than that, they’re pretty perfect. Although this year, they got more stubborn. Oh, well, so am I. Open thread, no polly tics, no tangelo terror.
(Ass) Blast From The Past
Look at that face. Adorable, elegant, lovingly demanding. Let us step back to Hime’s first Christmas with the family.
There she is. A delicate little flower.
Brother Odoriki had the kitty snuffles when he was adopted, hence the booger snout. Hime was just naturally perfect. Or so I thought. So, on Christmas Day, Hime demonstrated she had a tender stomach. And a bad case of the runs. Worse, she was intimidated by the litterbox. And shadows, slight motions, a slight breeze. She was a complete coward about everything and still is Queen Jitters. After the 3rd cleanup of a poop spill outside the low box, I was determined that this time, I’d wait patiently and just help her keep her tiny butt in the giant litterbox.
This, of course, did not go well. It’s Christmas morning, I’ve been cleaning all week and the result of my frustrated attempt at kitten corralling was… a tiny white projectile spraying liquid shit across the linoleum, the carpeted downstairs, up the stairs and under the sofa.
I really wanted to cry. My lovely quiet Christmas was a fetid, poop garlanded mess. My housemate came down to see what the hubbub was about and managed to pin Herself. We looked at each other and just burst out laughing. Finally, after capturing the little biological weapon, I called my friend’s dad, who’s a large animal vet as well as the head of an NGO that teaches about zoonosis & husbandry in African countries, and drove her over for a Christmas freebie checkup. We cleaned EVERYTHING, including her butt and put her on very simple food for a day or so. The rest of Christmas was lovely, since she forgave her humans for daring to pen her and get her muddbutt checked out.
Yes, I was still finding little poop spots days later. But I feel very loved. Merry Not Stinky Christmas!