I hate the asshole I’ve become

9 08 2013

No, wait, this guy probably doesn’t even know he’s an asshole:

In a video of the event posted by ThinkProgress, the freshman Republican [Rep. Markwayne Mullin (R-Okla.)] said he was in Crystal City, Va., buying groceries in a nice but crowded store when he noticed something strange.

“Every lane was open and it was backed up and I noticed everybody was giving that card,” Mullin said, apparently referring to the electronic benefit transfer cards most states use to distribute food stamps. “They had these huge baskets, and I realized it was the first of the month.”

In Virginia, food stamp benefits are automatically deposited on the first of the month for anyone whose case number ends in zero, one, two or three.

“But then I’m looking over, and there’s a couple beside me,” Mullin continued. “This guy was built like a brick house. I mean he had muscles all over him. He was in a little tank top and pair of shorts and really nice Nike shoes. And she was standing there, and she was all in shape and she looked like she had just come from a fitness program. She was in the spandex, and you know, they were both physically fit. And they go up in front of me and they pay with that card.”

Mullin knew what he’d witnessed. “Fraud,” he said. “Absolute 100 percent, all of it is fraud. There’s fraud all through that.”

That’s right, because if you’re poor you must wear rags and have your bones poking through your skin.

Also, no one who’s ever not been poor becomes poor, so there’s no way that those people could have bought that stuff when they weren’t poor.

Nor did they get them as gifts, or at an outlet, or from a clothing give-away.

And, of course, it wouldn’t be acceptable for that couple to have purchased that stuff because, goddammit, poverty sucks and once in a while you just want something, anything, nice to remind yourself that you’re not worthless and deserve to live as a human being.

No, if you’re poor, you must visibly suffer in every way.

So that the not-poor can feel righteous in their generosity.

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Cats

9 08 2013

Because, yep, that’s what this post is about.

Ignore the cat hair on the ottoman---look at the pretty kitty instead!

Ignore the cat hair on the ottoman—look at the pretty kitty instead!

Kitty boy on the floor.

Kitty boy on the floor.

His preferred floor-space is actually the threshold of the bathroom:

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Trickster, however, almost always prefer a higher plane:

Coolin' her armpit.

Coolin’ her armpit.

Another high spot:

Trickster looking down on us all.

Trickster looking down on us all.

That shelf, alas, is no more. It was a great place for Trickster to escape Jasper, but one day I came home and the wall brace had been torn out.

I think Jasper probably tried to leap up to it and the combination of his weight and the jump was too much for the bracket.

I may try to rig an alternative up for Trickster—she really does need a place to get away from Jasper-in-fightin’-mode—but in the meantime, she and the kitty boy are sharing (alternately) this:

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Yes, I constructed a dresser from wine boxes—perfect for my (de-jewel-cased) cds. It used to sit in my living room, topped off by my mini-stereo, but as I was trying to free up space in the main room, I thought I’d see if it would work to put it in my bedroom.

It works, and the cats dig it.

Anwyay, it’s been awhile, and I didn’t want you to forget how gorgeous my kitties are.





Bang bang

9 08 2013

I have no idea what happened.

My back was to the stove and I heard this BANG! I finished what I was doing, then turned around to see this:

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It kept making cracking noises, and I’d swear that I saw a few cracks form as I watched it. I did, carefully, pick up the lid: the glass didn’t scatter.

Kinda bummed about it—I use that pot a lot, and I like a glass lid—but I have to admit, it also looks cool.

And that the glass, shattered, nonetheless remains intact within the ring? Very cool.