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Friday, August 1, 2014

The Bachmann Diaries: Texas Vacation with Steve!



Dear Diary,

You know how much I love Marcus, and how firmly I believe in marriage between one gay man and his wife. And you know that I would never, ever do anything to put my marriage to Marcus in jeopardy. But oh my goodness, Steve King. From the first time Eric Cantor sent us to Missouri to convince those "victims" of a tornado that the reason we refused to pay for their whatever was really the fault of Obama and colored black farmers, I knew Steve was special.

He is so masculine, and he just smells so good. When we first met, it was Old Spice, but he's changed his aftershave over the past few years. First, it was Brut, which was WOW, and now, it's something that smells a little like key lime pie, but spicier. He still chews that minty gum, and his hands still smell like gun oil. Steve reminds me of an old-fashioned cowboy-muscular, down-to-earth, honest to the core, and a true American patriot.

We went to Texas a few days ago, to assess the illegal immigrants down there on the border. I went because I am having a hard time believing the liberal media's claim that these are all children. I think they're circus dwarfs, disguised as kids. You put a Hello Kitty backpack or Transformer tee-shirt on a grown-up midget, and you can't tell the difference. Steve went to be with me because he shares my concerns about all these midgets illegal immigrants. And to see the Rio Grande. I mean, we're both from Iowa, we never get to see the ocean.

I watched an illegal "pregnant woman" come into this country illegally on a raft with coyotes. I overheard border agents call someone a coyote, and I had to ask what that was. All that came to my mind was a pack of wild dogs, dragging these Mexican criminals through the desert, but it turns out that's a nickname for the horrible men who bring all these awful people into our white pristine country. I took a video of the "pregnant woman," and gave it my good friends at Breitbart News. They, along with Fox News, are two of the only places in America that tell the truth about Obama, and how he is allowing all these wetbacks Mexicans into our great nation.

I think that "pregnant woman" was probably a midget, with a pillow under her shirt.

Steve took this picture while I was gazing across the Rio Grande ocean. Marcus got very upset when he saw it. He thinks Steve took a photo of my bottom. I told Marcus he was being ridiculous, and that Steve is as happily married as I am. For some reason, that didn't help. Then I told him I wore the skirt because he TOLD me real ladies never wear shorts, and a skirt was much more modest and becoming. If I was going to let some other man take a photo of my butt, would I have really worn the skirt?

Secretly, Diary, I love the idea that Steve King thought my posterior was so attractive, he had to take a picture of it. I do work out a lot, and I am proud of the way I look. It makes me angry that you can see the line of my shirt tucked into that skirt. I tried for almost 15 minutes to smooth that out, but I guess I should have just worn a girdle or Spanx. Look how cute my hair looks in that little bun. Why did I wear a black polo? I should have worn my American flag shirt, but Marcus told me that didn't go with the skirt.

I had such a wonderful time with Steve. We managed to blame Obama for everything, just like in Missouri, because if we let people know the truth, we'll lose the House in November. Roger Ailes and Karl Rove explained all of that during a top-secret meeting in Donald Trump's office a month or so ago. We have to keep the public convinced that everything Congress is doing is for the betterment of this country, not because our rich handlers send us memos every morning, telling us what to do. My rich handler is David Koch. He has lovely teeth.

Well, I am off to another interview, I think. Or it's mani-pedi day. Either way, fun!

Hugs and Kisses, President Michele Bachmann

*H/T to my dad for the photos, and to revisit Shelly and Steve's visit to Missouri, click here. To watch a pack of wild dogs smuggle a pregnant little person in a raft over the Rio Grande "ocean," click here. Warning: That's Breitbart's website, so don't punch anything.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

I Have a Book to Write



I am not the most disciplined individual. My dad used to say I had no "stick-to-it-iveness." I start things, projects usually, work on them for awhile, then get bored. Maybe that's due to my weird intelligence (I can tell you what wine goes with what meal, including the year, the vintage, and what grapes are prominent in said vintage, but particle physics is Greek to me), or maybe I just need constant input, like Johnny-5. Now, I think it's time for me to focus.

You may remember a year or so ago, I mentioned writing a book about my journey through borderline personality disorder. And I did start it. The few chapters I wrote are saved in Word, under the title "Staggering Down The Road Less Traveled." This afternoon, one of our neighbors asked me what I do. I stammered a bit, because I try very hard not to tell people here about my online writing. I responded,

"I'm...err...writing a book?"

Confident reply! Anyway, he nodded, and asked me what the book was about. This is where it got dicey. Throwing caution to the wind, I told him. To his credit, he did not throw his arms up the air and scream "CRAZY PERSON OH MY LORD!" He listened, then told me about his daughter who is an English teacher. 

The reason I want to write this book is simple: people need to understand you can not only survive mental illness, you can live a fantastic life. You can claw your way out of that hole and step into the sun. But the journey is incredibly difficult, and writing it all down the first time brought back memories that I wasn't prepared to deal with. I took a break, wrote for a big website, made a little money, and now, I just write here. So, it's time to get back to "Staggering."

My plan is to start over. Yes, it will still have humor (some of it dark, because that's who I am), and yes, it will still be my story. The thing is, my story is so many others' as well. I met a psychologist here who didn't believe that I had graduated from therapy, that I no longer self-harmed, that I was, in effect, cured. He said "Borderlines don't really every stop being borderlines." 

Therapists hate treating borderlines. I've been told that by actual therapists. I got really lucky in Vermont, and found a therapist who only treats borderlines. Thanks to him, my family, and my own determination, here I am. Scarred, a little cracked, but in the words of Leonard Cohen:

There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in.

I am filled with light. Seriously, I truly am. I love my life, I love my husband and my son, my step-children and grandchildren are wonderful, my relationship with my dad and stepmom is fantastic, and I think now is the right time to get back to the book. Will those memories pop up again? Probably, but I believe with all my heart that this book will help people, and that matters more. Who knows-maybe it will help me in the process.

Now, if Shelly runs for president, there will be a slew of Diaries, so don't you fret, Wombats. I will write here on Poking At Snakes, once a week or so. I need to write "Staggering Down The Road Less Traveled," because there are millions of people with BPD, and they need to know it's possible to live without it. Borderlines are told over and over again that they are incurable, which translates into hopelessness and despair. My fervent hope is my book will show other borderlines that we are curable, we are lovable, and after the therapy and the hard work, there is an amazing life waiting for all of us.

Maya Angelou was one of my heroes. Her early life was traumatic and filled with pain, and yet, she became a poet laureate, an award-winning author, and an inspiration to millions of people all over the world. She said, of her life:


My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.

My mission with "Staggering" is to let other borderlines know we can thrive, not merely survive. And I plan to write it with passion, compassion, humor, and style, in honor of Dr. Angelou, in honor of my friends who fought their own battles and won, and in memory of my friends who didn't. 

I staggered down that road, tripping, falling, bleeding, crawling. It was worth every single step. I rarely stagger anymore; perhaps that's my fear with writing this book. That somehow, I will break, or regress, and all my work will have been for naught. I don't believe that's going to happen. Obviously, this will be an incredibly difficult book to write, but it needs to be written, by someone who has survived, and now thrives.

Me.


Tuesday, July 29, 2014

The Bachmann Diaries: I Had a Vision


Dear Diary.

Last night, I awoke in the middle of the night to see a beautiful angel sitting in the Louis XIV replica chair in the bedroom. He was very handsome, with black hair, and weird eyes. Sort of like a snake, but I think that was a trick of the light. When he smiled at me, the whole room looked as if it was bathed in rubies. And what he told me was miraculous indeed.

Diary, ever since the 2012 campaign, I have known 2016 is my year. The true patriots in this great nation are hungry for a president who understands how great this country can be, and is willing to do whatever it takes to repair the damage done by Barack Hussein Obama and his liberal cronies. They want a leader who will put HOMOS in camps, force the "poor" to work, bomb every single country that doesn't love us, and make sure all the media is owned by my dear friend, Roger Ailes. And I am that leader.

The angel told me I am destined for greatness, which can only mean I am going to win the 2016 presidential election. He reminded me of the visits I got from Jesus as a child, before the stupid doctors put me on that medication, and he correctly pointed out that I am the only politician in the country who truly understands our nation's history. I do know our founding fathers fought tirelessly to end slavery, even though most of them owned slaves. I think they were trying to end bad slavery, like the kind where the slaves were beaten, or had to live in tents. Good slavery was probably better for American blacks than Obama!

It is my fate to be Queen of Godlandia. Well, maybe not Godlandia, because the angel told me I can't change the name of the country. So, probably not Queen either. That made me a little sad. I really want to see my face on all the money. Plus, Marcus wants to be King. First Husband sounds so silly, not at all manly, and Marcus is very manly.

I know it won't be easy. After all, the other conservatives thinking of running are very smart, and are also dedicated to the betterment of this great nation. They're just so caught up in the Washington, DC lifestyle of expensive dinners, illicit sex, backroom deals, and all the rest of it. America needs a down-home girl, a woman who has raised her own children, and has the compassion to raise 874 360 289 27? foster children. America needs a leader who can make apple pancakes, create a formal place setting for six, whip up a lemon meringue pie, and still have time to tell Putin what a great leader he is. I wish I could make him my VP.

Sorry this is so short, Diary, but Marcus and I are setting up recording equipment in the bedroom in case the angel comes back. I would love to go on James Dobson's radio show, and play a tape of an angelic messenger from Holy God, telling me to run for president. That would shut the liberal media up!

I wish I could go public with my decision! Soon, though, I promise!

Love-President Michele Bachmann.


Monday, July 28, 2014

If you have an extra $100 a year, you can subscribe to Sarah Palin!



My friend Lee sent me a link to an article late Monday morning from MSNBC. It seems that Half-Governor Grifter Palin has launched her very own "alternative media" website, the Sarah Palin Channel. Snort, guffaw, choke. Sorry.

The reason I find this so incredibly amusing is Half-Governor Grifter is charging her gullible minions $100 a year to listen to her lie. So, using math:

1,000,000 idiots Grifter Palinbots x $100/year = $100,000,000 gross a year. That's Mitt Romney money right there.

Even if I'm wrong, and only half a million Palinites subscribe, that's still a shitload of money. And why the hell would anyone pay for anything Palin related, when you can hear her lie, manipulate, slaughter the English language, screw up our history, and say "You betcha!" for free? Spend a few minutes with Google. Type in "Sarah Palin lying." Sit back and relax in the knowledge that you are getting for free what some sucker is paying $100 a year to view.

I have never understood her appeal. She represents everything wrong with our country. She's ignorant, selfish, she has no empathy, she's vain, manipulative, she lies the way you and I breathe, she lives in a constant state of victimhood, and nothing is ever, ever her fault. Remember her blood libel comment? In the aftermath of the Tucson shooting, many on the left attacked Palin for her use of what looked like gun targets over Democratic congressional districts. Rather than apologize (which would have been the classy thing to do), she and her "handlers" claimed those targets were surveyors marks, and Palin herself was the true victim in all this. Not the people who died that horrible day, not the families who lost loved ones, not Gabby Giffords or her family. Nope, as usual, the most harmed person was Half-Governor Palin.

She was awarded the dubious honor of having the Lie of the Year from Politifact. Palin told the horrible, make-believe story of the "death panels" in the ACA. She still makes this claim from time to time, and her little minions lap it up like the milk from "A Clockwork Orange." The same minions who are at this moment trying to win enough money at the casino to afford a subscription to the Sarah Palin Channel, while at the same time, having enough left over to send Ted Cruz a little something. Because he's a Real American™!

In honor of Grifter Sarah's newest endeavor, I am going to watch my favorite documentary about her later this evening: "You Betcha!" by Nick Broomfield. I have included a You Tube link for folks who don't have Netflix. In other words, unlike Palin, I won't make you pay money to watch her.

Thank you, Lee, for making my day. If you're a fan of martial arts/action films, Lee has a website dedicated to those films, and the men and women who make them. I highly suggest it. I do not highly suggest the Sarah Palin Channel. Seriously, just don't.


Wednesday, July 23, 2014

You must have me confused with someone else




Visa® sent me an invitation in the mail today. We receive many credit card offers, but this one got my attention, because Visa® must have me confused with someone else. This was an invitation to apply for the Visa® Black Card.

It's made of stainless steel, which I guess is handy when camping or something. It comes with concierge service, occasional presents from luxury retailers (just for having the card), exclusive offers, you name it. It also has no spending limit. This is the card for the 1%, kids, and for some bizarre reason, Visa® seems to think I'm one of them.

The catch? This card costs $495 a year. FOUR HUNDRED AND NINETY FIVE DOLLARS. If I wanted to get my husband a card, that's an additional $195 a year. If I can't afford the annual fee, how in the world does Visa® think I qualify for this stainless steel, super spiffy, holy shit rich person credit card? P.S.: I don't.

We don't make six figures a year. We will never be worth millions (or even a million) dollars. We're solidly middle class. We don't even own a home at the moment; we're renting a monster-sized cabin here in Angry Old People Ville. So why did Visa® send me this invitation?

My first thought was they hoped I wasn't a read the fine print kind of gal, but then I pondered it a bit more. That doesn't make any sense. This kind of card is used by Kim Kardashian, Bill Gates, Rupert Murdoch, Warren Buffet. You can buy a plane with it. Or a Bentley. Maybe rent Richard Branson's island. This isn't a grocery store purchases card. This is a "Hey let's rent a Gulfstream and fly down to the Keys for some conch tomorrow" card.

Which brings me back to the question: Why did I get this invitation? I'm not rich, never have been, never will be. My credit cannot possibly be so fantastic that Visa® would totally overlook that fact that I can't afford the annual fee. Did I recently make a purchase that would lead Visa® to think I'm related to the Rockefeller family? Let's see...I bought broccoli, peaches, and cat litter yesterday. I bought Deborah Harkness's new book online about a week ago. I put gas in the car. Yep, obviously I am drowning in money. Hang on, my eyes just rolled into my hair, and it's hard to see.

I am tempted to call the number and just ask "What the eff, Visa®? Who in the wide, wide world of sports do you think I am? Does my buying history lead you to believe that I am the kind of person who can afford a yacht, or a Lamborghini, or $325 ice cubes?"

Huh. Those ice cubes cost less than the credit card.

Anyway, I am not going to apply. My car payment is due, rent gets paid next week, it's almost time for school supply shopping, plus we're trying to put together another college fund for the kid. If you're one of the 1%, feel free to click the link and apply for the Visa® Black Card. The rest of us will muddle through somehow, weeping copiously into our peasant ice cubes, waiting for the day when we can afford a vacation that involves air travel. Commercial, of course.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Sh*t just got real


See that bug? In the photo? That's a hornet. Hornets are huge, they're angry as hell, and they hate everything. Guess what? We have them in the front yard of our house.

Normally, I have a cavalier if not humorous attitude toward our insect invaders, even the deer flies. But when you start talking about wasps and hornets, sh*t gets real. I am allergic to wasps, and I don't even want to know what would happen if I was stung/bitten/mauled by a hornet.

My husband and I were standing in the shade of the garage, admiring our two clean cars. We drove my Camry up to see my dad and stepmom Saturday, and the grill, headlights, and windshield were like a Civil War battlefield for bugs. Legs, wings, blood, and a myriad of insect internal organs were splattered everywhere. After my wonderful husband washed (and detailed!) the Camry, not a bug gut was to be found. As we stood, basking in the shininess, he told me about what he thought was a horsefly that tried to murder him earlier. Then he pointed out towards one of the small trees.

"There! That's one!"

I squinted into the sun, and backed way up.

"Uh, that's not a fly."

"What is it?"

"That's a hornet. Sh*t just got real."

We watched, mostly terrified but slightly fascinated, as two hornets began fighting in midair. You could almost hear them growling. Let me put this in perspective: Hold up your thumb. Now, imagine a really pissed off bug that has a stinger and armor on part of its body flying inches away from your face that's the size of your thumb. Now imagine two of them.

In China, they have giant killer hornets. According to this article on CNN.com, Asian hornets are attracted to sweat, the smell of alcohol oozing from pores, and people running. So, if one comes at you, just stand there and glare at it. They also have venom that destroys red blood cells. See? Sh*t just got real.

We have no idea if the flying, stinging, pissed off behemoths in our yard are Asian killer hornets, or just regular killer hornets. I'm not sure it matters. Nothing that big and that angry should be able to fly. My husband tried spraying one of them with bug killer. The hornet bared its teeth, flew into the tree, and zoomed back into the grass.

"What in the world do we use to kill them?" my brave husband asked.

I muttered to myself, removed my gardening clog, and tiptoed onto the driveway. I could be brave, too! Until the hornet turned in midair, locked its rage radar on me, and flew directly at my face. At that point, I screamed like a banshee and dove back into the garage. Courage be damned, I want to live.

One of my favorite cartoons is this one: the anatomy of a wasp. It's a very accurate representation of what used to be the angriest bug in our yard.



Now we have hornets. My guess is, you can use the cartoon above for hornets as well, but include "on steroids and bath salts" next to each descriptive. The arse dagger would become "arse Tomahawk Missile."

If anyone needs me, I'll be hiding under the bed.



Thursday, July 17, 2014

Michele Bachmann spews hypocrisy on "Crossfire"



Michele Bachmann recently appeared on "Crossfire," to discuss immigration. Many other websites and blogs have covered her segment, and oddly, all those articles read the same: Michele Bachmann Compares Child Immigrants To Rapists and Murderers. Now while Rep. Bachmann did mention (briefly, and without any details whatsoever) a University of Minnesota college coed who was, according to Bachmann, raped, murdered and mutilated by a "foreign national," what she really went on about was a bus accident. A bus accident that killed four children, caused by a woman named Alianiss Morales. 

Rep. Bachmann should have done just a wee bit more research into Alianiss Morales. It seems Ms. Morales may have purchased her identity in Puerto Rico, something Michele Bachmann didn't mention. Imagine how much more convincing her argument would have been if she had stared down Van Jones, and silenced him with the story of Alianiss Morales. Of course, then Jones could have retorted with:

"Did she buy that identity to work at Swift?"

At which point, I am certain Rep. Bachmann would have responded:

"That's not in my district, Van."

Let's get to the hypocrisy. Van Jones introduced Rep. Bachmann by calling her "probably the most compassionate person in the U.S. Congress." He went on to mention her foster children. That's it. Van Jones, allegedly a liberal with his head screwed on straight, believes Michele Bachmann is probably the most compassionate person in Congress because she and her completely heterosexual husband, Marcus, took in foster children. Rep. Charlie Rangel, who was sitting on the supposedly liberal side of the "Crossfire" table, also weighed in by defending Rep. Bachmann:

"I would like to come to her defense, because this is two beautiful ladies. One is a Republican, the other is a mother and a compassionate person."

What? When I think of Michele Bachmann, the word that does not leap immediately to mind is compassionate. Cruel, hypocritical, homophobic, conniving, bigoted, ignorant, racist-those are the words that leap immediately to mind. 

For those of you who read The Bachmann Diaries, you may have noticed I never, ever include one thing in my satirical take-downs of Michele Bachmann: the rash of teenage suicides in her district that began in 2009. Nine teenagers took their own lives, so many that the public health department labeled the Anoka school district a "suicide contagion area." Some of these students, like Justin Aaberg, were gay and bullied, others, like Samantha Johnson, were thought to be gay, and were bullied. Many other teens either attempted to take their own lives, or expressed suicidal thoughts. 

Do you know what the "most compassionate person in the U.S Congress" did in response to this? Nothing. Not a thing. Her silence was so deafening that during the 2012 presidential campaign, Nancy Pelosi told the media:
I would think that if she wanted to be president of the United States, she would understand that this is a larger issue than whether someone is gay or not, but as to whether someone is harassed and bullied to the point of seeing no way out. (source)
Michele Bachmann doesn't care about those four children killed in a 2008 bus accident either. When the accident occurred, Rep. Bachmann did not, as far as I can discover, make a statement to the press. She didn't donate blood, or champion the fund set up to help victims and their families. But when she realized she could use those dead children as political fodder to bolster her attacks on immigrants, suddenly, Michele Bachmann cared. 

Rep. Bachmann is anti anti-bullying legislation. She gave a speech in 2006 on the floor of the Minnesota House against anti-bullying legislation, saying in part:
What will be our definition of bullying? Will it get to the point where we are completely stifling free speech and expression? Will it mean that what form of behavior will there be — will we be expecting boys to be girls? (source)
What you have to understand about Michele Bachmann is she doesn't care about anything except Michele Bachmann. Much like most politicians, especially those "compassionate conservatives." This is the woman who accused Huma Abedin of being a terrorist by falsely linking her to the Muslim Brotherhood. This is the woman with a lesbian stepsister, who rails against the LGBT community. This is the woman who says, about the LGBT community:
Our children will be forced to learn that homosexuality is normal and natural and that perhaps they should try it, and that’ll be very soon in our public schools all across the state, beginning in kindergarten.
It’s part of Satan I think to say that this is 'gay.' It’s anything but gay.
This is a very serious matter, because it is our children who are the prize for this community, they are specifically targeting our children. (source)
Van Jones and Rep. Charlie Rangel didn't do their homework. To call Michele Bachmann compassionate is ridiculous. To me, that was the most horrible part of the "Crossfire" segment. While Van Jones did begin calling her out eventually, both he and Rep. Rangel made sure to point out Bachmann's "compassion." 

I would suggest Van Jones and Rep. Rangel read a few articles on Michele Bachmann, perhaps starting with this one. She is anything but compassionate.