Dog pile

Maybe I should have been writing here or maybe there. I don’t know, like everybody else I think I have something to add. I don’t, not really, and nobody else does either, not really. It’s like we’re the last four terriers to a Mastiff dog pile with assorted Newfi’s, Lab’s Shepherds, collies and mutts in ascending order. Americans, true to form, thinks the global situation all revolves around them (us) and it’s frustrating the hell out us when we realize it doesn’t, it really doesn’t. No one is looking to the US for help. Hell, we aren’t looking to the US for help.

Reminds me a bit of the dustbowl. No, I am not making a great depression comparison. What I am saying is that we had a bad crash, natural disaster ruining, drought taking a full decade from us, and what did we do as a nation? Bootleg liquor, confidence games, foreclose on properties, cheat migrant workers (mostly displaced Okies). Just to keep certain incumbent supporter panties from getting in an uproar I’ll keep the two shell games most recently run near or to me personal and not more … national.

So, a month or two back I decide to shake the dust off a twitter account I had started sometime back a decade or so only to discover I had been banned in 2015 or suspended or something. Long story short I got my account back. Why did I want a twitter account? I was tired of print and video media covering social media and that being national news. In the middle of this some lady starts a private chat in whatever twitter uses as a chat thing. A few messages back and forth, she’s asking personal questions, kind of flirty, I give a mix of flirty, aloof and bullshit answers because, you know, it’s the internet. Story is she’s in Dubai on business and bam the con comes in; lock down and her visa is about to expire and she only has 2500 and … yeah.

The other was something similar from my second ex wife but more of a shot gun effect with probably one or two elements of truth for the sake of righteous indignation. Like the great dustbowl, a lot of folks going through a hard time and a lot of folks trying to get one over.

And on a national level they’re playing silly buggers too, but y’all know all this, we are the last four terriers in the dog pile. It’s the cutest analogy I can think of. A dog pile is a wonderful thing. It doesn’t smell great, it’s a little to warm on a humid day in summer and sometimes makes you itch, but there’s a sense of belonging and very little divisiveness.