I’ll start on a positive note, we’re all still here and my head has not exploded yet. I check the news first thing in the morning to see what our chances are of avoiding WW3. I may be deluded and actually this is WW3.
Israel is intent on flattening their immediate neighbours. I can see how their experience destroying Palestine might have encouraged them in their endeavours in Lebanon. However, Iran has more bite, they’ve picked on one of the big boys and it appears that as a consequence of their actions Israel may also be obliterated.
There have been multiple occasions on which no one could have been surprised if my head ignited. To name but two, when the president of the United States of America threatened to end a civilisation and when the same demented old paedophile’s gang threatened the Pope.
The Pope!
I have little to no time for organised religion, I am no supporter of the Catholic Church but I’m loving this pope Leo. Have you seen the image of him young in Chicago? Pork pie hat, sunglasses, side burns, dog collar. He looks like a movie mafia priest or a blues brother. I’d recommend the trump winds his neck in and probably also stops posting images of himself as Jesus.
In addition I’d suggest stopping the war he started and not sending his useless second to further fuck things up……but he can’t, the man who bankrupted casinos is doing what he does best, this time with the USA and the world.
When not concentrating on our imminent doom, I’m currently watching pet grooming and house restoration reels. We’re decorating later this summer. I’m seeing this as an act of optimistic defiance rather than a mere aesthetic refresh.
In further odd responses to imminent doom news, I’ve behaved unlike myself, shopped unlike myself. Having been given a very generous gift card for my favourite shop, everyone might assume, including myself, a black shirt dress.
No, a white linen shirt. I know, the world has gone bat-shit crazy.
Shopping, or at least going to shops, has returned to favourite entertainment status. Shopping for bras I found a two pack, GorJus found a huge bra. Biggy Small she suggested, I know it’s not funny, but it was for us…very.
In the same visit to M and S’s underwear department we also spotted shape wear in size 8. More evidence, if more was needed, that the world is effing mad.
fat tart 