JaneGoodwin

Now that he’s built concentration camps, we need to watch for the announcement that he’s made a bigly deal with J.A. Topf and Sons.

Two mature men. Completely normal. Bigly so.

I’m running out of popcorn here.

I live in Indiana. I love it, but I am so ashamed of it.

Running into former students always makes me so happy. When they share memories of our class, it’s a high no drug could ever match.

When he is gone, Trump deserves what the Romans gave to imperial traitors: damnatio memoriae. Nothing named after him, no presidential library, none of the perquisites given to past office-holders. Just shame and silence. Damnatio memoriae.

The more I try to steer clear of making political posts, the more furious, irritable, outraged, disgusted, and headachy I can actually feel myself becoming. My robotic heart is pounding. Sorry, family. I’m back.

Cholesterol might be our best hope.

Today is a dark day. The sun is shining, but the day itself is dark and bleak and threatening and foreboding and all the words for “evil” the thesaurus holds. Today is a dark day.

“No checks excepted?” Great! You’ll take this un-endorsed third party check from Outer Mongolia then, right?

What’s not to get about relativity? You turn on your computer at 9pm, and ten minutes later, at 2:45 am, you turn it off and go to bed.

When one of your dreams comes true, you begin to look at the others more carefully. —Anonymous

You don’t read to your kids and memorize poems together? I hope you have a very good reason for not doing this, PS: There are no good reasons.

You’re never safe from being surprised ‘til you’re dead. Even then, I bet a lot of people get a surprise.

You parents who couldn’t afford socks and mittens for your child yet always miraculously found money for cigarettes: even, all these years later, I remember you with disgust. And don’t think for a moment that I DON’T remember you.