I haven’t been posting here lately because all my energy is going to my mother’s care, and all my writing efforts toward processing everything that involves are going to Not The Roommate I Expected.
My dismay at much of our daily “news” is too much for me to process and write about. It makes my brain hurt and the idea of researching it more in-depth in order to provide proper citation, etc. etc., makes my brain hurt even more and also makes my stomach hurt a little. Fortunately, my friend, Harold, frequently conveys the essence of what I’m feeling, and helps me realize I’m not alone in this dismay.
I’m basically a small-town corn-fed bumpkin from Western Nebraska who found out he was gay and probably above-average in intelligence at about the same time in 2nd or 3rd grade. Even though I didn’…
Source: Love me, love my dog