I feel very guilty about not keeping up my posts. Not that I was getting much response on them anyway, but, frankly, I am possessed with Twitter these days. Most of my tweets, of course, areattacks on Comrade Donald Trump and such worthless Republicans as Paul Ryan, who is not looking to be reelected (good move, Paul). I still think most commercials are badly written stupid concepts, but not everyone can be as brilliant a writer as me, and as stellar an art director is my Wellesley friend. I'm still a Luddite as far as the computer is concerned, which is why I can't give you a full-color Photoshopped photo of Donald Trump shown as a Bond villain stroking his white Persian cat. While I regard myself as a highly talented lyricists, I can't get any theater to bite for any of my three musicals, My one and only two-act play also goes unnoticed. I am still a purist about English and cringe when supposedly educated people call the lectern the podium, refer to antisemetic instead of antisemitic, or refuse to pronounce interior n's in words, like innaview and Atlannic Ocean. I still hate sports and organized religion, the latter even more since evangelicals have proven they really haven't got a Christian bone in their Trump-loving bodies. Good Christians have got to address this strange allegiance before being tarred with the same brush. And, yes, I'm still cranky. But who wouldn't be when one's country is being defiled by an idiot, backed up by a traitorous Republican congress, and among the persons we admire for their dignity and courage are a porno star and a Playboy bunny. But I wouldn't be a bit surprised if don't get tired of being confined to a certain number of words and return frequently to this blog where I can babble on like this.
