Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Dear Lin-Manuel, I've been a very good girl,

...and for Christmas (or rather, feast of the ten good omens) I would really appreciate a special gift.  This song from the Mixed-Tape keeps speaking to me.  It so richly expresses the quality of my fury with eloquence I do not aspire to:



If you were feeling up to it, would you possible re-work it so I could send it politicians when they are ignorantly, belligerently, anti-choice?  I get so tired of having to think up things to say when they pass ridiculous laws that do nothing but cause difficulty and heartbreak?

This wonderful post by Dr. Gunter on  what you learn providing 20 week abortions. 

This collection of stories of women who have had later abortions.

Could some body write a screed against the people?  Then in the future I could save my energy and just send this to the John Kaisch's and the Rick Perry's of the world.  And that awful, AWFUL Blackburn woman from Tenessee.  




An Open letter to yet another ignorant iconoclastic national embarrassment, another narrow minded small-hearted small d****d politician who thinks he should decide that women should hide.


See, not my strength.


An Open Letter to the arrogant, anticharismatic, national embarassment known as President John Adams
The man’s irrational, he claims that I’m in league with Britain
in some vast international intrigue

Bitch, please!
You wouldn’t know what I’m doing
You’re always going berserk, you never show up to work
Give my regards to Abigail next time you write about my lack of moral compass;
at least I do my job up in this rumpus

Oh and the line’s behind me , I’ve crossed it again while the president lost it again
Ah such a rough life, better run to your wife but the boss is in Boston again
Let me ask you a question- who sits at your desk when you’re in Massachussets?
They were calling you a dick back in ‘76
and you haven’t done anything new since
You nuisance with no sense
You will die of irrelevance
Go ahead you can call me the devil, you aspire to my level, you aspire to malevolence
Say hi to the Jeffersons!
And spies all around me maybe they can confirm
I don’t care if I kill my career with this letter
I’m confining you to one term
Sit down John, you FAT MOTHERFUCKER

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