Little fluffy clouds

I’m trying to understand.

I managed to put my back out somewhere in Portugal, then picked up a dread lurgy in Amsterdam, and have therefore spent the last week making my way home to Shady Pines, swathed in a haze of Tiger Balm, vaIium, codeine and champagne, while alternately lying on the floor of hotels and groaning, lying on aeroplane seats and groaning, or sitting on toilets and groaning while squirting from every orifice. It was like a Katharine Hepburn movie, except one where Katharine knees Tracy in the balls in the first five minutes and is handcuffed to her seat for the rest of the film. My fond regards to the staff of KLM and Singapore Airlines for their sterling service and their heavy hands with the gin.

Having arrived home, I have been appropriately cleaned and medicated, and now the world is like a big, warm ball of pink marshmallow with me in the middle like a particularly unpleasant (although exquisitely perfumed) jammy filling.

I know there are important events going on outside. I’m reading my blogs and trying to take it all in but, with the bucketsful of painkillers I am on, my brain has self-deported.

As far as I can tell, lots of people are complaining because the President made a speech in which he talked about creating jobs and improving education and the unremarkable (yet rarely spoken of) idea that the rich should pay at least the same rate of tax as the non-rich, while sounding like a calm, responsible adult.

This after a week which the chosen exemplars of Republicaniness (a morally-compromised blowhard, a rich herbert with the likeability of a sanitary napkin full of blue ink, an insane gnome and an obnoxious wowser whose name is inextricably linked to lubey, shitty suds) spent flinging poo at each other, fellating the rich and otherwise saying dumb shit, while arguing about how little tax they all pay.

President Obama clearly has no idea what he is doing.

Also, Nancy Pelosi. No idea. Why on earth would she say of Newt that:

I think he’s done plenty of dumb things and there’s stiff competition for what is the dumbest thing he’s done, of course, including his violations of the ethics rules of the House of Representatives.

when she knows that it will make the 27 percent squeal at her for the next week like piggies in a sack about how unfair it is for Nancy to mention stuff for which God has personally forgiven Newt?

I tried reading Mitch Daniels’ reply but as far as I can tell he just went “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Why won’t you do what we want you to?” for ten minutes, crapped his pants and fell off his chair.

None of it is making sense.

Perhaps I need another drink….


3 Comments on “Little fluffy clouds”

  1. heydave says:

    Pithy and succinct insights again, so you at least be used to the meds. As for throwing out your back, have you tried having sex laying down? I hear it’s easier on the back, albeit mundane.

  2. For someone whose brain has “self-deported” you have a remarkable grasp of what’s actually going on. These asshats make one long for Nixon.

    Hysterical, intelligent stuff here. I’ll have what you’re having. ;)

  3. Ormond Otvos says:

    Judging from your history and current medications, you’d be a hell of a lot better of trying CBD-rich cannabis instead of that burp cocktail of constipating painkillers and brain-muddling mood elevators.

    (Talk to your local cannabis dispensary. CBD is the painkilling and calming fraction of cannabis. THC, normally the main ingredient, is what makes you high. CBD rich cookies and lozenges have show great use in conditions like yours. Read the literature, or get a copy of O’Shaugnessy’s, a fifty page newspaper published quarterly and distributed to medical cannabis clinicians.

    You’ll be very glad you did.


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