Where I Live Now

January 24th, 2017


When I can’t stand one more bogus press briefing, one more alternative fact, one more surrogate spouting lies even they don’t believe, my thoughts turn to murder. Wives with Knives, Killer Teens, Deadly Neighbors, Homicide Hunters, Fatal Vows, Deadly Affairs, Strangers in My House. The ID (Investigation Discovery) channel never lets me down. I’ve learned how to do away with my spouse by dosing his iced tea with antifreeze (Don’t drink it, you dope!), and that if you kill someone in the kitchen, no matter how much you scrub the linoleum, ┬áLuminol will betray you. Husbands and wives, do not take out million-dollar life insurance policies right before you off your spouse! Poor trusting schmuck, if you start getting sick and sicker with no discernible cause, have your doctor do an arsenic test! Wives, the hit man you hire WILL throw you under the bus for a deal! These gruesome tales about the dark side of human nature provide a brief respite from the gruesome stories coming out of Washington, DC, these days. Where civility, compassion, decency and truth are being massacred one by one. Where democracy is being axed with every new fox being put in charge of our henhouse. Where money talks and poor people walk. But at least on ID, I know that justice will prevail, bad guys will be caught and the poor widder woman’s ranch will be saved. Until I wake up and realize that at the junction of Fear and Misery, there are more senators to call, more marches to join, more setbacks to protest. And if you decide to join me on the picket line — misery loves company!

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