Archive for the ‘Ha Ha’ Category

Or lipstick on a pig!

Posted: July 18, 2017 in Ha Ha, jerk of the week

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America by Allen Ginsberg

Posted: July 3, 2017 in Ha Ha

Well us old gals are at it again. Traveling in search of a new home. This should be our last trip. We have contacts who have contacts who are in the know of where to live and where to go. Where to stay away from and where to check out.  Someone told us Vermont is full of cows, well we said even if we don’t drink milk, eat cheese or ice cream we love cows. Bonnie said with giggles, “you should see the place during rush hour, cows here, cows there, cows everywhere.” Yeah okay we will be in the city where we are sure there are very few cows. We’ll see some cows from the train give them a moo moo and be glad we don’t have to clean the barn. We love cows even if they do a job on the ozone. “I have to wonder,” said Bessy Marie, “do cows ever escape the field and come and stand on the train tracks?” I really hope they don’t as the train has no cow catcher in the front of it and if we hit such a creature it would be all over for the cow and cause delays. ( 1 ) Let’s hope not said Olga, lets hope the cows know where they at suppose to be and if they go anywhere else they will not hear the dinner bell. Here is a little song to start us on our way.

I am Cow, by Arrogant Worms.

Rush Hour In Vermont.


Lots of these on our trip. No worry the train is only 5 cars long. We were happy we weren’t waiting to cross the road or go on through to the other side of the tracks in Springfield as there was a freight train with almost 75 cars passing by.

The train route

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We know that by the time the train gets to us the bathrooms can be and usually are very smelly. Olga is the smart one in the bunch always brings a mask to wear when she is in the toilet. I just can’t sit there and smell that horrid smell, do my business and not have vomited all over the floor. Then the train folks would have another mess to clean up. So I get one of those masks fold it up keep in in my pocket along with a Lysol wipe or two. No telling what germs lurk around in the train. Germs are a funny thing can’t see them but if they get into you man can they do a job. Both of us gals are too old for that and thank our lucky stars we haven’t contracted anything this past winter on top of what either one of us have all ready. We take our Elderberry syrup each and every day. Getting old, now that is a whole other story. We don’t know too many old folks to sit around with and talk about getting old. I wish we did as then we would say, “Hey we don’t have it all that bad.” At the very least we would know what this getting old is all about and if this or that pain is worth complaining about. Maybe it will go away in a couple of days.

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Gals like us love the train. Having never learned to drive we take it all the time. You know the things you see on the train are much different than what you see in a car whizzing by at 60 miles per hour. These highways leave a lot to be desired as far as good scenery is concerned. Trees, cars, trees, cars. We love the train we get to see the backside of the cities, usually the older part, the graffiti along the tracks is always something to marvel at, an art show caught out of the corner of our eyes and then it retreats into the distant. Last time we were amazed at all of the mullein patches along the tracks. Huge Mullein plants, skunk cabbage, and ferns, ferns, ferns all along the tracks edge and into the woods. Something we very rarely see around these parts are white birch trees. The white lines among the green and brown, lovely. We came home last year in October and what a site to see out the windows of the trees changing colors. Never saw such beauty. What will we see in the spring time wondered Bessy Marie, of course we will be north and hopefully the gardens of tulips near the State Capitol will be in bloom. (more…)

We nearly spit out our morning tea when we saw this on our facebook page. What kid of fools are these folks.

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Yeah you all get the Jerks of the week prize. Keep it up and we just may give it out next week and the week after to you folks again. Get you ideas right. Here is our response on the facebook page.

This takes the cake or make it two for JERKS OF THE WEEK. Who the fuck believes that liberation can come through legislation? That is like saying Hillary Clinton is in the resistance. Stop using revolutionary words to explain away your liberal bull shit. Reform maybe but not liberation. Stop using revolutionary words and ideas to fit your liberal agenda. You are embarrassing those who have come before and causing a massive rolling over in the graves of our martyrs who fought the real fight so people all around the world would be liberated from the likes of evil systems.

To think that the word and concept of liberation would ever fit inside of a state capitol building is absurd. Foolish to say the least. Heads on backwards. Need a new hat maybe. We can tell you as a fact that if you are looking for liberation via the democrat party think again about that evil twin. They may be holding your hand now but remember how they are and can be when in power. But of course we don’t expect any of the folks in the liberal wing of the anti-trump movement to understand any of this. They just hear the words but don’t know the program.

The words of Socialist Feminist revolutionary Gloria Martin comes to my mind when she said, “We have to fight for survival issues–better pay, benefits, abortion rights, child care. But then we have to go further. We have to change the system, because as long as the system is the same, we’ll be fighting all our lives for the same thing….When people have had enough, revolution can happen suddenly.” We would think that the idea of liberation would come in along the line of ” We have to change the system” Most of our readers do not have to be reminded of what our great Black, Lesbian, warrior poet mother Audre Lorde said or what she meant when she said, “the masters tools will never dismantle the masters house.” No they won’t and when we try to use them all we will get is we are tools of the ruling class. Let’s not be fooled by fake revolutionary sayings by spouted off by liberals, let us leave it at that as I am in no mood for a war.

We wish we were going to be home on May 8th. We would go and disrupt this program.

UPDATE: They deleted my comment from their page. I guess they just don’t get it. Now what do you expect?

You deleted my comment but the truth remains. There is no liberation through legislation. Please do not continue to disrespect our Black, Brown and white martyrs in this country and all around the world who fought so people could be truly liberated. I never thought I would see the day when the democrats are considered the vanguard. How soon we forget liberation does not come from the painless activity of state capitols.


To follow this discussion go to HERE.

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Randy Rainbow is one of the most wonderful queer artists working today. Randy we love you.


Check out more of Randy Rainbow’s work on facebook HERE.

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Add a little charcoal or some type of smell barrier and we know several folks who could use a few pairs. Though you know we have always enjoyed the clearing a room aspect of a good loud smelly fart. Or remember those that were called silent but deadly? Those were the worse kind. No warning alarm to let us know next up will be_____. Just sneaked up on everyone and then the who did it game starts. Meanie’s will pick a person they don’t like and point at them, saying loudly, “My goodness Margie what have you been eating?”

A long time friend of ours sent along this poem and asked if we would publish it. “Why not,” we said. We read it, enjoyed it, asked ourselves what would we do if faced with this art act How would we respond if we were eating dinner, getting drunk, just sitting around enjoying ourselves. So here it is for your reading pleasure. A big thank you to Wendell for sending it along. He asked that we post a video that even we find disgustingly interesting.



One night ago: On making and filling empty spaces.

by Wendell Marsh

And when the body fluids started to flow

All over the table it was time for him to go-

Somewhere other than here, anywhere else but here and now, don’t care where, just anywhere, anywhere else but here.

She said I really have nothing to do with him, just get him out of here. Move him away from my table.

I don’t care what he does, go here, go there anywhere but near.

He drooled too much all over on the table, took his finger and made some squiggles. Art on the run. Spit, spit, spit, on the table.

Causing the lady, dripping in all the goodness that money can buy to get out of her chair and leave.

One empty space over there to be filled with a stronger stomach than the lady dripping in all the goodness that money can buy.

I’m getting sick just watching him as he began making his way from his table to another.

Leaving behind on table top spit art squiggles.

With the 3 ladies he sat, oh no why, why us wailed blondie. I don’t want him near me. Not here or anywhere close by.

Why in the world, why in the universe why in the depths of hell, does he want to bug us? Crap he moves closer, he smells along with his grubby clothes.

That need, that need that needs to be filled, happy go lucky stumbling slide over and bug me out. Oh no. Get the fuck out of here.

Lonely artist draws in spit because he has no money for art supplies. He’s a post-studio mess, out about town making it where ever he sits.

Money for drink now that is another thing. More important than all the paintings on canvas. One can always draw with spit on the top of the table in fancy pants place or dives.

Causing people nearby to say fuck this shit we’re leaving. Clean up your act you dirty old thing. We’re outta here.

He mumbles who cares, you mean nothing to me and won’t even buy me a drink for my art.

All’s a goner, empty spaces lots of places to make some art. Wipe the table spit is gone no more art to bother about.

Throw out the bum the bartender yells. He and a few hearty farts do the job of chasing a crowd out the door.

The train rumbles by shaking the whole place. What side of the tracks am I on no matter which the place it shakes.

Every night the train comes right on time, wakes me up and I think, I lay there and think, how the fuck can I get out of here?

Tomorrow I will get on the train and go. Go, go to someplace else, some place other than here where trains don’t rumble in the night waking me up so I have to think in the middle of the night laying there thinking there, thinking in fright, thinking in the night about spit on the table and art.

Just wants to sleep be quiet seeing what can come through from other places to fill this space.

Up in a tree, down in a easy chair, on the bed, beneath the breeze, hoping to cure a sniffle,

running in a field, crossing the country in an airplane, doing the squiggle on tabletops,

naked as a jaybird, startled awake the alarm clock just rang out like a bomb blast, all’s a goner, nothing left, bringing you into the real world from other places, anyplace but here. Landing with a thud in the bed.

To work, filling that space with work, work, work. An ugly place to be at any time, at any place, in any space.

But money is needed this we know and spit on the table isn’t  an art work that would bring in any money. If you think it is and try it out you may end up filling the spaces under a bridge.

Winters cold, summer bugs they bite, not a whole lot of invite in such a world as this.

Security remove that man!