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Tossed Salad Friday

~~ There’s non-stop shrieking in Dementia-ville, so I inquire as to what the patient finds so agitating. You! she says. Go away! I do.

~~ The aide is talking so loudly on the phone as she does her laundry that I can’t hear the kitchen radio. I felt like I was back in my college dorm as I turned up the radio volume to drown her out. Except I wasn’t cranking up Lay Down Sally and New Kid in Town to mask Muskrat Love and Barracuda!  With apologies to Heart, what the hell do these lyrics mean?  

"Sell me, sell you," the porpoise said
Dive down deep to save my head
You, I think you got the blues too
All that night and all the next
Swam without looking back
Made for the western pools, silly, silly fools
If the real thing don't do the trick, no
You better make up something quick
You gonna burn, burn, burn, burn, burn it to the wick
Oooo, Barra-Barracuda

~~ Walking along the sidewalk, I passed a man without hair yelling into his phone. The other side of the conversation will always be a mystery, but his side was clear as a bell: “Your father is almost 70 years old, Julie. He is never going to smarten up! He’s as dumb as I’m bald!”

~~ I spoke to a woman on the phone and she called me back five minutes later to say this: “We hung up before I could confirm your phone number.” Read that again if you have to, but it still won’t make sense.

~~ I apologize if you saw this on my Facebook feed, but about one minute of Halloween was very traumatic for me. Here’s what I wrote at 5:21 pm on October 31:

How do you know when you're completely over Halloween? When three boys of about 7 or 8 grab and then dump your entire bowl of treats into one of their bags and start to run. So you yell, "Hey!" and they call you "Bitch!" and your 11-pound dog runs out into the street and a mom in a cigarette-smelly witch costume swats her ugly-ass hat at him and screams, "Bad dog!" That's when.


~~ Who knew knitting wasn’t just a creative outlet and a way to keep others warm? According to this site, knitting is a post-apocalyptic survival skill!
http://incaseofsurvival.com/knitting-a-post-apocalyptic-skill-you-must-learn/1493

~~ Driving along, we saw a sign on a telephone pole that said, Heil Trump! Our New Fuhrer. As it bore a GOP symbol, I’m betting that wasn’t sarcastic.

~~ I reached my limit with hearing many in the media say that no one is enthusiastic about voting for Secretary Clinton. I got so fed up that I popped onto Huffington Post to have my say:  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/58139c64e4b096e870696529?timestamp=1477680562946

~~ This election is the first one that truly scares me. Not rankles me, not troubles me, but flat-out frightens me. Our country doesn’t need sanctioned racism, applauded anti-Semitism, and endorsed sexism. We sure don’t need someone who could be Mussolini without the black shirt. Please vote for the candidate that embodies intelligence, experience, and inclusiveness, not for a “smart businessman” who stiffs everyone and never pays a fair share, or a “straight talker” whose venom is officially endorsed by Nazis, Klansman, white supremacists, militiamen, and other cesspool dwellers.

Have a great weekend!
J!-E!-T!-S! JETS! JETS! JETS!
LET’S GO RANGERS!
GO, NY KNICKS, GO!

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