I don’t know about you, but I am so disgusted by General Petraeus and his sexual shenanigans. And furthermore, were I the “fixer” of all this top-secret, high espionage tomfoolery, I would CASTIGATE every single person involved in these elitist, militaristic, clandestine trysts of wanton…hmmm…hold up…..Shenanigans. Shenanigans. That’s a writer’s word. Shenanigans. Sheeee-nanigans. Come to think of it, tomfoolery. Tomfoolery. Tom-fooooolery. Bear with me here….Shenanigans. She-Nanigans. Sheee-nanny-gans. Castigate. Caaaastigate. Wanton. Waaanton. Wontons…wonton soup….

Aaaahhhhh! Moving on.

So, a lot has happened since I last posted.

  • Number 1: Petraeus betrayed us. He totally had relations with a woman who was not his wife. (See above.)
  • Number 2. There was a solar eclipse you could only see first-hand from Australia and New Zealand and other area parts. (Ask your friends who left the U.S. because Obama got re-elected about it. They’ll tell you it was liberalating!)
  • Number 3: My birthday…woop woop! Twenty-seven!!! (Plus a few years. And counting….backward.) Oh, and for those of you keeping up, I have a new job. Community Impact Newspaper reporter for the Lake Travis/Westlake area. Thankfully, yes, even being a black woman, I write and speak affluent English.

Now, I must admit, I quit my old job not knowing exactly what awaited me. I did that voluntarily and honestly without fear or qualm. Not because I’m strong or daring or fit to be on The Amazing Race (which I LOVE, but would lose.) I quit simply because I knew what was waiting for me would not come if the space for what I wanted was occupied.

Think of being at the annual Austin Kite Festival. Oh look, pretty kite, oh look, pretty kite, oh I’m bored, oh I gotta pee. There are only so many Porta-Pottys. You’ve gotta go, but every single Porta-Potty is “occupied.” You don’t really want to risk going in one anyway. But, you must. All are occupied. You’ve got to go really bad. You’ve got to wait. Then, suddenly, some forever-damaged young Lake Travis mother bolts out of one of the nasty pods with a 4-year-old in tow. You can go in, now, because a Porta-Potty is free. Yes, thankfully gosh-darnit, one of ’em is free. You couldn’t go in when it was occupied. But now…YEEEEEEeeeeeaaahh…yeah, ugh, yeah, it’s free.

Have you ever slumped so low as to deposit your waste into one of those filthy, stank, rancid…?

All of which brings us full circle back to Petraeus.

Hmmm….my metaphors, as one good friend just pointed out to me, are all screwed up.

Til next time!

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