I'm Never, Ever, Working For You

Five Years, Top Shelf Idiots, Puffy Armpit

All that I have watched, and read, and witnessed over the last week has left me dumbfounded. This war is a moral horror, the pain is incalculable, and the only worthy goal in my view is to end human suffering. I don’t know how to achieve this, I do not know how to achieve peace, and I also know that we never will. 

I continue to believe, and in fact say out loud in my live show—that we should give women all the power and control in the world for five years. Then, if things don’t get better within that five year time frame, the men can have it all back. The rest of us will go live elsewhere, perhaps on a better planet—one that we smartly discovered during our brief reign.

Obviously, this is a beautiful fantasy. For truly, we spend most of our days sadly marinating in the atrocities, the war mongering, the brutality, the petty rivalries, and tough talk of the majority men who dominate our world stage.

I am sick of it to the core of my being.

In our own country, as I write this, a vote is underway to make Jim Jordan Speaker of the House (Update: before I hit publish he lost the first vote…but STILL). Jim Fucking Jordan. Staunch Trump ally, agent of chaos. Best known as someone famous for obstructing the normal operations of our government in an artfully disheveled rolled-up-sleeves dress shirt, pits moistened with EFFORT.

Don’t let me get ahead of myself. He is *also* known for his failure to protect his wrestling team from a sexual predator when he was their assistant coach.

His grinding effort makes me think of this Marie Davidson song, which I love so much it hurts. 

Work to Be A Winner, Jim.

He is terrible. The kind of terrible who really knows how to use all the levers in his toolbox, and that is dangerous. 

This shrill little pugilist has been out there all weekend threatening Republicans to give him their vote for the speakership, lest they face the flying monkeys he plans to unleash in their districts. Cool cool. Can’t wait to see what this country looks like next month when we face another government shutdown, and the guy who voted to overturn the election result is doing the negotiations. I wish I still had a tv show so that he could see how much I loathe him! Alas!

Rep. Jim Jordan (right, green face) with aforementioned flying monkey (left, blue face) and America (cute, pigtails, center)

Here’s another top shelf idiot:

RFK Jr.

This election-spoiling-ass-motherfucker right here, doing what we ALL knew he would do, running as an Independent. I know, I know–the prevailing theory is that he will siphon Republican votes and ruin it for them, but that, my friends, is a child’s wish whispered into a flaming volcano. 

I have gone to PLENTY of left leaning events of late and have witnessed perfectly rational people clapping their asses off at the mere mention of him.

I am telling you that he is MORE POPULAR THAN YOU WANT TO BELIEVE IS TRUE, and a danger to all of us.

It reminds me of…Full Frontal…circa summer 2016. We took a bus and interviewed many people all over the country, for a week or so, trying to get the lay of the land. 

After speaking to a wide cross section of voters I came back to the office and directly said to my executive team, “Hillary is going to lose this election.” Then we all had a good chuckle at my stupid assessment and went back to the muffins in the shared kitchen, trying to dig out their moist centers.

All of it forgotten, purposely shut out of my brain, locked away, until it wasn’t.

Remember when Marjorie Taylor Greene was a fucking joke? Turns out, nobody is a joke. The joke is on us. Every scenario we think is funny and absurd seems to materialize?

So no, I don’t think Donald Trump is going to be in jail next year, I think he’s going to be the president again, and you can take that to the BANK.

Due to this tour I am on—which, by the way, come see me in Pittsburgh, Michigan, and lots of other places—I got the updated Covid shot a couple of weeks ago. The injection site was sore for a bit, my head hurt, I looked like a dented can of dog food, and my armpit fully swelled up, which felt new? I am not a medical doctor, but I did diagnose myself with a case of “puffy armpit”, and tbh, it’s…still a bit puffy as I write this. Like, half of a potato bun’s worth of puff.

Many people in my life had proposals for how to feel better afterward, including such suggestions as two day fasts, three day fasts, or SEVEN DAY FASTS. Anyone who truly knows me, knows that you might as well ask me to grow a third breast. The best remedy I could personally find, and again, this works for me, and again, I am not a medical doctor, but I DO prescribe the following: 8 back-to-back episodes of Great British Bakeoff: The Professionals, and a sturdy yuzu poundcake.

I believe in vaccines. It feels insane to have to say that? Do I get them ALL? No. Should I get the Shingles one? YES. Will I? Perhaps. Probably my hesitation has more to do with admitting that I am old enough to need it.  Still, I continue to be floored by peoples’ disdain for vaccines, and frankly believe that this long-ignored Nobel prize winning woman would like a word.

This is the best part of the article, for me:

Yet Karikó also was sensitive to perceived affronts. Once, while chatting with colleagues at a department Christmas party, a professor mentioned that Karikó was working for him on a project.

“You think I’m working for you?” Karikó asked him, livid, according to someone who witnessed the episode. “I’m here to advance science, I’m never, ever, working for you.”

I SECOND this sentiment. HARD.

THINGS I THOUGHT WERE EITHER INTERESTING OR JUST PLAIN GREAT:

• I interviewed Phoebe Robinson on this week’s Choice Words, so look for that tomorrow. Honestly, speaking with her was a breath of fresh air. The plants she had in her background shot on our Zoom were so beyond dead I could not stop giggling.

• I cried when I read this. Please transport me back to Aug 9th when I took my daughters to the Taylor Swift concert in LA, and they had a religious experience.

• A great reminder that there are real people behind every salacious true crime story, and it behooves us all to think about that.

• I am also, frankly, excited to report that Gov. Sarah Huckabee Sanders purchased a “travel lectern” and that it cost $19000 and that people are mad. Personally, I would like to see the travel case, because the mean person inside me is assuming that it's tacky, and I’m fine with being petty about it.

• Also a truckload of plaster vaginas spilled from a truck, and this just feels like a metaphor for something…

No use in crying over spilled vaginas!