Bullshit Limit Achieved

I think that everyone has a limit of bullshit that they can withstand.  Sooner or later, something is going to fill up the bullshit bucket until it can hold no more, and you've got to find a way to alleviate the mental pain.  Whether it's a crazy ex, a dead end job, or that asshole who cut you off on your way to work, no one has a bottomless bullshit bucket, and today proves that I am no different.

In the wake of the recent attacks in Paris (and Libya, but no one is taking about the victims of that attack), several governors have announced that their states will not accept any Syria refugees, my state’s own governor included.  In addition, I've seen posts from people whom I've considered to be my friends agreeing with these decisions in some of the most vulgar and ignorant ways imaginable.

Well, I've had it.

My natural inclination is to present facts to support the argument that these people are not only fleeing the civil war in Syria, but also fleeing ISIS; however, I'm really in no mood to be told how naïve I am for not automatically assuming that the Syrian refugees would be coming here to kill us all.  Heaven forbid I mention that ISIS has killed far more Muslims than any other religious group -  I'd certainly be labeled a “libtard”, or some other clever insult for my trouble.

Here is where my bullshit bucket comes into play – each and every one of these people are self-proclaimed Christians.  Now, I am admittedly no expert, but all I do know about Christianity is that giving refuge to those fleeing war torn Syria is precisely what Jesus would do.  Those posting this xenophobic garbage are also über-patriotic Americans, or so they would tell you.  Perhaps I should remind them of what’s inscribed on the Statue of Liberty,

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

…or, maybe not.  As far as they're concerned, for the Syrian refugees, we should turn off the lamp and shut the door – your kind isn't welcome here.  What an exceedingly All-American, “we are a Christian nation”, attitude.

America’s closed, folks.  Moose out front should have told ya.

Another View of Me...

This particular view of me was created by Jeff in Korea, a regular in the Commentorblog section of The Pensblog.com.

Thanks, man...you rock!

Perhaps this is more accurate...

Here, this picture of me might be a little more accurate than the last one...

If You See This...

Every girl has a wardrobe weakness. For most, it's shoes. For me, it's handbags. I loooove a good handbag. I have a great appreciation for desinger handbags, those I can afford, as well as those that I can't. There is one thing that I know for sure: if it has a tag like this on it...

...chances are pretty good that it isn't.

The Real Me...

And now, for the first time on the internet...a picture of me:

This is all I really have to say today...

The Legend of Frankenpenguin...

Cute little guy, isn't he? If you look closely, you can almost see the anguish in his face. You see, this is no ordinary Christmas penguin, oh no, this one has had a rough season, in deed.

The old man and I put up his prized decorations on Saturday, two days after Thanksgiving. When he got up to take the dogs out around 7:30, he discovered that this pudgy little penguin wasn't where he was supposed to be. He had been (literally) ripped from his station in the front yard. What you can't see in this picture is the 50 feet of green vinyl coated chain that connects our decorations to each other and the house, to prevent theft (or so we thought). The culprits had to rip the eyelets out of the penguin's ass to get him out of our yard. We weren't happy. The responding police officer was amused (no doubt) and confused that someone was successful in stealing one of our decorations with our theft prevention methods.

Well, not being the sort to be easily defeated, we promptly went to the local Home Depot and purchased an identical penguin to replace the kidnapped waterfowl. For a couple of weeks, he peacefully stood guard with the other lawn inflatables, cheerfully greeting visitors during this festive season. That abruptly ended with a phone call from my stepdaughter, indicating that the penguin was slumped over in the yard, and it looked as though his belly had been slashed open. I'm going to assume that either someone in our neighborhood hates penguins, or that the theives had returned to the scene of the crime to murder the new guy. Either way, this attack happened in broad daylight. The rogues are getting more daring.

So, what are our choices now? Spend $20 to buy another penguin, or patch this one up so it lasts the rest of the season. We chose the latter, and were out in the front yard with a flashlight and a roll of duct tape sealing the wound in our little trooper's abdomen. Well, the duct tape held...until today...

OK, so I tend to sleep in when I'm not working (sue me), and I was nudged from my sleep at the crack of 11:00 AM by a phone call from my beloved husband. Apparently, our villians had returned once more to exact their revenge to our arrogance by ripping the duct tape from our battered penguin's body. So there I was, in my front yard, needle & thread in hand to stitch up the gaping wound. Let me tell you, it wasn't even in the neighborhood of easy to sew this thing up. But he is, once again, cheerfully waving to passersby with a smile, and a jagged scar.

If I could figure out how, he'd be doing a one-fingered wave until he comes down next week...