Dear Republicans...

Dear Republicans:
While you were yachting  and collecting trophy wives (although I have to say that every time I see Joe Biden and his wife, I think I’m watching a Cialis commercial), it became NOT the 1770’s. And women and black people? They got the right to vote. Shocking!

We all know that when Thomas Jefferson wrote in The Declaration, “We hold these truths to be sacred and undeniable (later changed to “self-evident”), that all men are created equal…” that he and his peers meant only MEN and specifically only WHITE MEN and even more specifically only RICH WHITE MEN, i.e., landowners. We also know that The Declaration was a bold statement that set in motion the future fights of women and other minorities, and that we cannot fairly view Jefferson’s choices and words through a 21^st century filter. The younger generation today keeps trying to run all of American history from our leaders to our laws to our books, movies and television shows through their ever-evolving world view, and not only does it fail miserably, it pisses me off. Stop it already. We need to look at 2012 with a 21^st century lens. And that includes YOU, you dumb-ass Republicans.

In case you are unaware, dear Republicans—DUH—people can love God, yet not be Bible-thumpers. Black Americans are not out hoeing the back 40 of your cotton or serving up your mint-juleps. And women do not want your palsied, cold, liver-spotted fingers all up in their private parts. (Special note to Joe Biden: Invest in some Porcelana ® and some hand warmers.) We can believe in the sanctity of marriage—although at this point, it’s not like the heterosexuals have done such a bang-up job of promoting its sanctity—without the pompous indignation aimed at couples who don’t fit your portrait of “normal.” For God’s sake, interracial marriage was illegal in the US until 1967, and it’s been deemed immoral for centuries in many cultures. How preposterous! At least in the US, we’ve gotten over that stupidity.

But here we are in 2012, and the Republican party has the nerve to put this guy on the ballot. I’m not saying that Mitt isn’t a nice man, although I’m really disturbed that he’s named after fucking sports equipment. I’m sure that even some Democrats might agree that as a person, Mitt’s all right. (Okay. Maybe I’m reaching.) But the Republican Party could only be more out of touch with mainstream America if they were fricking Taliban.

And now they are all scratching their hoary heads and wondering how the hell they lost the election. Helllllooooooo?? Idiots?? STOP trying to tell women what they can and can’t do with their wombs. STOP trying to tell gay people that their love doesn’t equal yours. (And don’t try to tell me that there aren’t gay people amongst your ranks!) STOP trying to tell minorities that they are less important than rich, white people. And, for the love of Jesus, STOP letting Trump speak. At all.

It’s true that fiscal conservatism is needed in our country more than ever. That means that spending cuts are inevitable. But it doesn’t have to be only programs designed to help the poor that get cut, you morons! Our government could STOP spending $100 for a fucking stapler you can get at Wal Mart for $1.99, for example.

The problem is that people are rabidly emotional about money. But if we trim social programs RESPONSIBLY—and that means by reducing the salaries of government employees who push around papers and bog down the system AND by streamlining the processes of identifying deserving recipients of government aid—we can keep lending a hand to the people who TRULY need it, and at the same time, lop off some of our incredible debt. STOP calling Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security and Welfare “entitlement programs.” American workers have toiled long and hard to SAVE money out of their paychecks with the expectation that it will be there when they retire. It’s not like anyone could opt OUT of having SS removed from their pay. We EARNED it. And we expect the government to GIVE IT BACK, dammit.

And as for Welfare and Food Stamps, yes, yes; it’s true that there are sycophants in our country whose total existence consists of sitting on a dilapidated porch, drinking all day from a brown-paper-bag-coated bottle OR having lots of babies without a thought in the world about how to feed them. Newsflash! All of those folks are not minorities! And not ALL folks have been raised with the same values as Republicans. And SOME folks have mental illness. It’s important to weed out people who are defrauding the system, but we can’t just abandon everyone, you nutbags.

As soon as the two aloof, lily-white representatives of Republican-ness that the Party paraded as the “ticket” hit the trail, there was no doubt that they were going down. Hey, Republicans, here’s a novel idea: Why don’t you try a WOMAN candidate? Or a MINORITY? Hell, a fucking deaf-mute would be a better option at this point. Get your heads out of your gold-plated asses and pay attention. Cultural values have changed. And God still loves all of us anyway. If you have the hope of ever, ever putting a Republican back in top office, it’s time you recognize those of us who aren’t rich, white and male.

You Don't Have to Commit a Felony to Get Past Your Ex

See? Even fucking BEARS can get married!! What is WRONG with this country??

My parents were the second set on our block to divorce. I could see it coming for miles, and I was freaking terrified. The demise of Sonny and Cher didn’t help a whole hell of a lot. Right after the Breaking News report, I ran to the kitchen where my mother and father were frying chicken and mashing potatoes, and I breathlessly shrieked, “You’re not getting a divorce, are you?!” They both feigned shock and lied straight through their pearly whites. I vowed then and there never to lie to my children any time my divorce was imminent. And I didn’t.

My brother has just completed his second divorce, and my husband and I share an assortment of prior disasters. We’re kind of like the Brady Bunch of divorce. But the fact that we lived to tell the myriad tales shows that no matter how difficult or devastating the end of a marriage may be, it’s pretty survivable.

I will now share with you some easy tips to help you weather the tempest of unmarrying. Every now and then, Bloggurl simply must offer some usable advice besides “Never vote incumbent,” and “Fuck Charlie Sheen.”

Now. Even the kind of divorce that is more relief than heartache still hurts. It’s a death, for God’s sake. The death of dreams and plans and shared memories and perhaps even deep friendship. And it’s certainly more often than not the last nail in financial stability’s coffin. In fact, the divorce rate in America has steadily dropped over the last few years probably in large part because many couples simply cannot afford to separate. You must mourn the many little deaths or they will linger like a sloppy-drunk distant relative at a wedding reception and fuck you up later.

But sometimes, no matter how much praying, begging, counseling, struggling and compromising we do, the end credits scroll on a relationship. And then what? Acceptance and forgiveness. These are the keys to getting on with your life after divorce.

Accept the fact that your ex is truly a mother-fucking pig who is 99% responsible for the break-up. Forgive yourself for the vivid homicidal fantasies that are keeping you up at night.

Oh. Stop. I’m only (partially) kidding.

Accept your part in the failure of the relationship. Own up to your own imperfection. You can change your own uglies-and-nasties, you know.

Forgive yourself and your former spouse for almost everything. (Okay. You can forgive domestic violence too, but don’t ever accept it.)

While you are working diligently at acceptance and forgiveness, there are some other critical coping strategies to practice.

Plan.

Before the actual split, know exactly where you are going to live. If you must bunk with Mom and Dad in your childhood bedroom, for fuck’s sake change the wall paper. And have an exit strategy and a time frame, and stick to it.

Talk, talk, talk.

Yes, your friends are supposed to be a shoulder on which to cry. But most people can tolerate only so much of your stringy snot on their fine washables. That is why you must not use your friends as your support group. Talking about your divorce is essential; but find a real support group, preferably with a certified counselor. It’s important to listen to the experiences of others and to share your own. That’s how you learn that things will be all right eventually. But unless you want to find yourself as friendless as a Republican on MSNBC, save the complaining for the experts.

Do something you have always wanted to do but were too afraid to try.

It’s time for that first tattoo! It only hurts like holy hell, but do it anyway! Go skydiving. There are quite inexpensive simulators now, so you don’t even really have to jump out of a plane. (Unless you really want to, but if you are thinking about doing it without a parachute, then I am really thinking you should stop reading this and visit your nearest psychiatric hospital. Hurry.) Take up belly dancing even if you have more than one belly. Learn to swim. Learn to knit and make scarves for the less fortunate. No one said you actually have to go near the homeless and less fortunate. Really pretty churches with solid gold fixtures accept donations on Sundays, and if you go to the early service, your chances of running into the homeless are greatly reduced.  

Figure out what is truly acceptable and what’s not in a mate.

Now that you can be honest about your ex’s faults and your own, write down the deal breakers. Ready to admit that you hate tighty-whiteys with skid marks? Finally owning up to your disdain of the female mustache? It’s high time you decide the things you may not adore but with which you can live. Then, jot down what you really desire in a mate. You know. Things like compassion, a true interest in your desires and well-being, and a really big…flat-screen t.v. Fill out a pretend online dating application. You will be floored by the shit you can learn about yourself! And if you decide to submit it, you could be getting laid by Thanksgiving!

Never, ever, ever involve your children in the adult mess. Ever.

This is very, very important. Exes can remain friends or at the very least, friendly. But even if you despise each other and know in your heart of hearts that your ex is a dickless porn-monger who eats his own snot and can’t go a day without masturbating in the bathroom sink, keep your poison to yourself around your children. You owe it to them to be the adults. You can be honest (“Your mother and I can’t live together without driving each other mad.”), but you don’t have to be vicious (“Plus, she sucks in bed.”). It is not acceptable to turn your children against your ex-spouse so that they will be “on your side.” Besides kids don't need us to point out how fucking lame some parents are. They can easily figure that out for themselves.