I want to get to California. I miss my wife. Love is an asshole.
I don't think I am going to call it the alt right anymore. Racist right is more apt.
I don't care about hurting their feelings. If they love Trump so much for calling it like he sees it then they'll appreciate my candor. You're welcome, Trumpsters.
Since I turned forty I have had to shave places I never imagined hair would grow from. Left unchecked my eyebrows and nose hair would be about knee length by now.
But I still have a full head of hair so I won't complain. Anymore.
You're all welcome for the glimpse into my brain. If you ever see me staring off into space or talking to myself now you have a pretty good idea of what is going on in my head.
Last night I dreampt two hilarious jokes. I forgot them this morning.
And I sleep with a fucking voice recorder next to my bed for this very reason. But my dickhead brain - IN MY DREAM - told me, you're not dreaming, this is real and you never forget real things.
All I remember is that they were two Donald jokes that would kill at the squadron Christmas Party without offending anyone.
Meanwhile, TGB is reading this in her squadron thanking FSM my brain forgot the political jokes and hopes I do NONE at the party.