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More Retail Therapy for PapaDeanBear, and assorted thoughts. (September 8, 2026)

Note, the events described took place on September 5, 2026

Part 1: Pregaming retail therapy

Going out for some more retail therapy with the hubby…we actually blocked out some time, but I had a few things to do first. One, clip digital coupons for the warehouse club that we go to. (Note: The hubby and I have been getting a little paranoid lately because of all the problems in America, the Ukraine, and the Middle East. We have been not hoarding, per se…but going overstock on certain things we need just in case we need to hunker down. Canned items, cleaning supplies, emergency freeze-dried food, batteries, and so on.) Okay, coupons digitally clipped…if there is something that we need when we see it, I can search with my phone and see if there is a coupon for it (and clip it right then and there.) I print out the coupon list on our Hewlett-Packard OfficeJet Pro 9015 printer (which Dan bought without my input, he just went with HP because I said so,) staple it together with a Swingline desktop stapler (in beige, not red sadly. Big “Office Space” fan here,) and go on to the next step. (While this is going on, I am consuming cannabis gummies and cannabis-infused cola, this is important later in the narrative. I have social anxiety on top of a mild case of agoraphobia, and cannabis helps me deal with it. – PDB) On to part 2.

Part 2: Papabear’s ablutions

Now that the clipping is done, it’s time to make Papabear presentable. I usually go a couple of days between showers, given that I am pretty much home most of the time now. (That goes into my sense of paranoia that I have been feeling given all the news that has flooded the airwaves and the Internet. I’ll come back to that in a bit.) Into the shower my fat ass goes. (Stop imagining me naked, you pervs!) I had to unwrap another bar of Irish Spring (my soap of choice) because I wanted to get clean. Hot water always. Scrub my body, get the stink off. Next, rinse my mouth out with Walmart store brand cool mint Listerine. Then, the pièce de résistance…shampoo. Now this fat old man has been growing his hair out for a long time…and I have been wearing a big beard on and off for the past 31 years. Suave 2-in-1 for men, I don’t waste fucking time (it goes back to before I retired from BCI, and would have to get up at 3:15 am to get ready to be at work at 5:00 am.) A nice hot shower is one of the simplest pleasures you should NEVER deny yourself, and it gets you in a good frame of mind. The cleansing complete, it’s time to dry off and gear up. Safety orange Buckeye Corrugated t-shirt (used to get them for free every year before I retired, and they didn’t cheap out on them.) Black Stanley rip-stop work shorts, held up by black suspenders (my pants slip down if I wear a belt.) White AND1 ankle socks and my black Sketchers Slip-Ins (damn, they’re comfortable.) (And no, I did NOT go “commando,” I wore underwear. Pervs.) Then to accessorize. Casio WaveCeptor watch on left wrist, wallet in my back pocket, keys and vape in my right front pocket, smartphone (Galaxy S20 5G) in my left pocket. (Trust me, having a smartphone is necessary when shopping with Dan. I swear to fucking god, he has the ability to conjure up a wormhole and transport himself and the cart to another section of the store. Usually I will call him, and politely ask where he is. If I am pissed off though, then I text him “WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU???” Tie my hair back? Nah, I channel my inner hippy and let the hair flow. And a hat of course, it was between my camo BCI hat, and my denim bear paw (in pride colors) hat. The bear paw won out. On to part 3.

Part 3: The Trip To The Wholesale Club

Now that I am clean and fit for human consumption, it’s time to go to the warehouse club (oh alright, I will tell you which one it is, and it ain’t Costco (although I like going there also.)) Don’t snicker, don’t laugh…it’s BJ’s Wholesale Club. (And your filthy minds just kicked in. Pervs. Stop watching “Beavis & Butthead.) I climb into the Compass in the passenger side and Dan starts the car and drops it into drive. (Note, at this time the cannabis that I consumed earlier is starting to kick in, and I become a bit more…loquacious. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. – PDB)

Because of the Interstate 81 viaduct/clusterfuck that is ongoing, Dan decided to take the long way around to East Syracuse (where the warehouse club is located,) which is to pick up Interstate 481 (which will become part of 81 when the viaduct becomes fully operational) and go the long way around to pick up Interstate 690, which will take us to the Bridge Street exit that the warehouse club is located on. Basically, 11 miles from where we live. I ask Dan to change the satellite radio to the 70’s station, because a Michael Jackson song came on, and we both are sick of hearing him on the 80’s channel. (Nothing against him per se, just that we’re both sick of hearing his music on constant rotation on the 80’s channel. Way to go, SiriusXM.) But like we usually do, we make conversation. About what? Usually I drive the conversation in the car, and for the past few years it usually winds up being about politics. I tend to keep up with politics a lot more than Dan does (you can thank MeidasTouch, Michael Popok, Jack Cocchiarella, Brian Tyler Cohen, and David Pakman for that.) I’ve become downright obsessive about keeping politically aware since Trump’s first term. Basically, I caught Dan up with the latest efforts of Trump to fuck with mail-in voting and being slapped down by The Supremes time and time again, even though the court skews conservative (which in Trump’s addled mind means that they’re in his pocket.) Oh, and we talk about Pete Kegbreath (oops Hegseth) and his efforts to “reshape” the military. (Like getting rid of *qualified* military officers, because they expose all his shortcomings as a leader.) Okay, enough of that…we’re at BJ’s (stop the goddamn snickering, you pervs.)

Part 4: Finally, At The Wholesale Club!

The objective has been reached…and we step into a clusterfuck. Parking lot filled, the cart corral is seriously down in available carts. We get a cart, and step into what I can call “retail paradise.” No glaring neon, the only noise is emanating from the MASSIVE HDTV displays. (Dan looks at me and says one word… “No.” He knew I was looking at the 85” OLED sets.) There was a display for Tide detergent pods, and sure enough I had a coupon for it. Game on. On the last BJ’s run, I had purchased AA and AAA batteries. Since the in-store coupon was still valid, I purchased C and D cells. You never know when you need them. The next hour was an exercise in “do we need it,” and the answer is usually “yes.” Now, given that our rug-wearing, fake spray-tan, narcissist who resides at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue decided to get into a pissing match with our neighbors to the north over tariffs and considering that the majority of our paper products are made with Canadian timber, Dan and I both agreed that we should double our stocks of paper towels and toilet paper just to be prudent. And of course, I had store coupons for them. Berkley-Jensen (BJ’s store brand) and Charmin.  (We both remembered the run on towels and TP during the pandemic, and the “prepper persona” kicked in at that moment and we both decided it would be prudent to stock up on the paper products and batteries. – PDB) Next up, cleaning supplies. More laundry detergent, more Oxi-Clean, more Palmolive dish detergent (it softens hands while you do dishes.) Once we collected all the non-food items we need, we move on to the grocery section, which is my favorite part of shopping here. Dan picks up a package of boneless and skinless chicken breasts (he divides them up and individually wraps them and then puts them in the chest freezer that we have downstairs in the cellar.) Better With Cheddar sausages, and a two pound tub of cottage cheese (my choices.) Single-serve packages of Frito-Lay snacks in a 30 pack. Same thing with cookies, normally I would grab a couple of party size packages of Oreos at Wallyworld or Price Chopper, but this time it was Fig Newtons and Lorna Doone shortbread cookies. (I’ve been restricting myself in terms of snacks, and portion control is the way to go.) 8-pack of diced tomatoes, an 8-pack of Amy’s Organics lentil and vegetable lentil soups (mainly because I like lentil soup and of course, I have a coupon for it.) And Dan then reminds me about the coffee, and since I have coupon for Maxwell House (not a coffee snob here) in the cart it goes. Now we’re getting into the personal care (what used to be called health and beauty aids) section of the store, and the only thing on the list is body wash, (Dan prefers it over bar soap.) But then I spy with my astigmatic eye…DARK CHOCOLATE SEA SALT CARAMELS! (Oh yeah, Papabear is gonna get those!) Now to the checkout. The one thing that Dan is adamant about is going to a regular checkout, and not the self-scan. (I have no problem with it, but we did have a rather full cart.) Checkout goes smoothly, and then the final total comes up: $424.00. Another chunk outta my Visa card (it’s not a credit card, it’s a debit card. I don’t buy things unless I have the cash available to cover it.) Now to play automotive Tetris, which means put everything into the ass end of the Compass. Didn’t put the seats down this time, because we didn’t have a lot of bulky stuff aside from the paper products which went in the back seat.

And we get to the final chapter in this retail therapy post:

Part 5: The Trip Home and Subsequent Unpacking

The trip home was a little different. Instead of going Interstate 481, we take Interstate 690 to the exit that is on our way home. More talk about politics in general. I pop a couple of Altoids in my mouth, take some hits off my vape (nicotine, not cannabis) and just have a leisurely drive home. But the challenge is yet to come…unloading the Compass. First step, unlock the front door. Second step, locate the orange and white menace and restrict him to one room (usually it’s the upstairs half-bath but in this case it was Dan’s bedroom.) Final step, prop the front doors open so we can move things from the car to the house efficiently. (The reason I restricted BeBe to one room, that way he doesn’t get underfoot and/or try to escape through the front door. Also, we have to move things down to the cellar and he has a tendency to sneak downstairs when we aren’t looking, and then I have to shake the container of Temptations (a cat treat) to lure him back upstairs.) Finally, we can relax. I get a cup of decaf from the Keurig, park my ass in front of my workstation, finish the cigar that I had going before we went shopping, and log in and catch up with our world in crisis.

Part 6: The Final Synopsis

Why am I writing this? Well, we all have to have coping mechanisms in these uncertain times. Mine is writing (always have been a bit of a literary bastard, and besides, I took writing courses when I was in college.) Dan has needlepoint, and he listens to r/slash on YouTube. We both have shopping, making sure that we are prepared when the shit really hits the fan. I am starting to believe that when it does, it won’t be an outside enemy that precipitates having to bug out at a moment’s notice, but civil unrest that will cause everyone to hunker down and ride it out. That is what I have been prepping for, and I managed to get Dan on board with it.

Again, I may be reading too much in the current state of this fragile world we live it, but with the current leadership (what a fucking joke) we have right now, a president who is trying to remake Washington into a replica of his shithole in Mar-A-Lago, a secretary of defense who has the position because HE LOOKS GOOD ON TV, a FBI director who couldn’t investigate himself out of a paper bag, and has his own brand of booze (shades of Trump Vodka anyone) and an attorney general who constantly drags his feet in regards to the Epstein files and complying with court orders. And now that we have a populous that is getting sick and tired of all the fucking shenanigans coming out of Washington, which has been reflected in polling numbers across the political spectrum that show that the American public in general is pretty sick and fucking tired of the constantly changing rhetoric that indicative of a president who DOESN’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK HE IS DOING!

Okay, that is all I have to report on, basically retail therapy is just another escape from the shitty world that we are currently experiencing. Or is it? PapaDeanBear, signing off for now.

– 30 –

(c) 2026, Dean A. Basler Jr., all rights reserved.

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A Curmudgeon’s Viewpoint (August 11, 2026)


PapaDeanBear’s Monday…Retail Therapy, New Kicks, Watch Service, Dinner, and my Orange and White Menace.

The hubby and I headed to the temple of retail hell (aka DestinyUSA) that has pretty much become the domed city from “Logan’s Run.” (There is no sanctuary.)

But papabear digresses…first up, new shoes.

The ones that I have are a little worse for wear, so I got some Sketchers Slip-Ins which have Goodyear soles for slip resistance, (which they actively market to senior citizens such as myself.) Next, some sandals. Again, Sketchers. I found a pair that I liked and was pretty close to the ones that I had a while back and I wore out. 133 dollars spent

.

(The new kicks)

Next, the watch.

This watch basically has sentimental value. It’s a Casio WaveCeptor analog watch with a small LCD display that shows the date. I have had this watch since 2006, when I bought it to replace a Casio DataBank watch that pretty much broke. All I have had to do is replace the battery, and set it when I got home. (I actually have to get the little owner’s manual out because setting it is a little convoluted!) 33 dollars spent.

(My Casio WaveCeptor analog watch)

Finally, the supermarket. The hubby wanted to get a few things for dinner. Family pack of ground beef (he wanted to make meatloaf,) side dishes of my choice (I told him flat out not to bitch about what I chose, in this case was pre-made sides in the meat case.) Picked up milk, bread, eggs, cookies (Classic and Golden Oreos,) and pre-sliced snacking cheese (habanero cheddar and smoked gouda.) 103 dollars spent.

At the end of Papabear’s Retail Therapy, the total came out to 270 dollars.

As for the orange and white menace, he is basically stoned on catnip and was being a goofball, so papabear had to take photos of him.

(BTW, dinner was meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, baked cheese potatoes, and french green beans. – PDB)

-30-

(c) 2026, Dean A. Basler Jr., all rights reserved.

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A Curmudgeon’s Viewpoint (August 6, 2026)

Fucking around with AI

Decided to play with ChatGPT:

create a fictional interview about the wife of a bald, short and skinny deputy chief of staff to the president and how she can’t be sexually satisfied until she sings the praises of a sociopathic malignant narcissist president who expresses joy at cutting social welfare programs because the wrong people might get benefits, and that gives the aforementioned deputy chief of staff a pathetic erection.

*****

Absolutely—here’s a fictional, darkly satirical interview that keeps the sexual element suggestive rather than graphic.

**“He Gets So Excited When They Cut Medicaid”: An Interview With the Wife of the President’s Deputy Chief of Staff**

**INTERVIEWER:** Thank you for agreeing to speak with us. First, how would you describe your husband?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Oh, he’s very loyal.

**INTERVIEWER:** I meant physically.

**MRS. WEXLER:** Oh. Well, he’s short. Very short. Bald. Very skinny. He looks like someone assembled a human being from spare parts and then forgot to add confidence.

**INTERVIEWER:** And yet he’s Deputy Chief of Staff to the President.

**MRS. WEXLER:** That’s the funny part. He has enormous power. He just doesn’t have much else.

**INTERVIEWER:** What do you mean?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Let’s put it this way: my husband can get the President to fire a cabinet secretary before breakfast, but he can’t reach the top shelf without a step stool.

**INTERVIEWER:** How did you two meet?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He was working on the President’s first campaign. He came home one night absolutely glowing because the President had spent twenty minutes explaining that poor people were ruining America by receiving government benefits.

**INTERVIEWER:** That was romantic?

**MRS. WEXLER:** For him? Apparently.

**INTERVIEWER:** What happened?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He told me, *“You should have heard him. He was so happy.”*

**INTERVIEWER:** Happy?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Ecstatic. Apparently the President had discovered that someone somewhere had received $38 in food assistance while technically owning a used automobile.

**INTERVIEWER:** And that excited your husband?

**MRS. WEXLER:** You have never seen a man become so enthusiastic about fiscal policy.

**INTERVIEWER:** How does this affect your marriage?

**MRS. WEXLER:** I have learned that romance, for my husband, is largely ideological.

**INTERVIEWER:** Explain.

**MRS. WEXLER:** There are certain things I have to say.

**INTERVIEWER:** Such as?

**MRS. WEXLER:** That the President is a genius. That nobody understands economics like he does. That cutting food assistance will somehow make America prosperous. That people who need housing assistance are probably scammers. That the President’s instincts are always correct.

**INTERVIEWER:** You have to say these things?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Not *have to*. But if I don’t, he becomes distracted.

**INTERVIEWER:** Distracted?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He starts staring at the television. Then he’ll sigh and say, “The President is surrounded by idiots.”

**INTERVIEWER:** And that ruins the mood?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Completely.

**INTERVIEWER:** So what happens when you praise the President?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Suddenly my husband is paying attention again.

**INTERVIEWER:** How enthusiastic are we talking?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Let’s just say that when the President announces another round of cuts to social programs, my husband develops a remarkable spring in his step.

**INTERVIEWER:** That’s a delicate way of putting it.

**MRS. WEXLER:** I’m a delicate woman.

**INTERVIEWER:** Do you actually admire the President?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Absolutely not.

**INTERVIEWER:** Yet you praise him.

**MRS. WEXLER:** I also tell my husband that the casserole he makes is delicious.

**INTERVIEWER:** And it isn’t?

**MRS. WEXLER:** It tastes like drywall mixed with regret.

**INTERVIEWER:** What does your husband say about the President in private?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He calls him a transformational leader.

**INTERVIEWER:** Does he believe that?

**MRS. WEXLER:** I don’t know. I think he believes that being physically close to power makes him powerful by osmosis.

**INTERVIEWER:** Does the President know about your husband’s… enthusiasm?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Oh, the President knows everything.

**INTERVIEWER:** Everything?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He once walked into a meeting and said, “Wexler, you’re looking very happy today.”

**INTERVIEWER:** What did your husband say?

**MRS. WEXLER:** “Thank you, Mr. President.”

**INTERVIEWER:** And was he?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Let’s just say I had to listen to another twenty-minute lecture about welfare fraud that evening.

**INTERVIEWER:** Is there anything that turns your husband off?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Compassion.

**INTERVIEWER:** Seriously?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Absolutely. Once, during dinner, I mentioned that a single mother might actually need assistance to feed her children.

**INTERVIEWER:** What happened?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He put down his fork.

**INTERVIEWER:** That’s it?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He said, “Don’t start.”

**INTERVIEWER:** And you did?

**MRS. WEXLER:** I asked him whether he thought the President might be wrong about something.

**INTERVIEWER:** How did that go?

**MRS. WEXLER:** We ate dinner in silence.

**INTERVIEWER:** Final question. If you could change one thing about your husband, what would it be?

**MRS. WEXLER:** I’d make him approximately eight inches taller.

**INTERVIEWER:** Why?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Because then, at least, when he stood next to the President on television, viewers might mistake him for an actual adult.

**INTERVIEWER:** And if you could change one thing about the President?

**MRS. WEXLER:** I’d give him a conscience.

**INTERVIEWER:** Does your husband know you feel that way?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Of course.

**INTERVIEWER:** What happens when you tell him?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He gets very quiet.

**INTERVIEWER:** And then?

**MRS. WEXLER:** I tell him the President is a historic genius.

**INTERVIEWER:** And then?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He smiles.

**INTERVIEWER:** That’s it?

**MRS. WEXLER:** That’s marriage.

*****

now add some digs about the size of his member and have her describe it’s length, thickness, and how long he can stay erect

*****

I can keep the joke going with non-graphic sexual innuendo, but I can’t provide explicit measurements or detailed descriptions of his genitals or sexual performance.

**INTERVIEWER:** You mentioned your husband’s physical shortcomings. How does he fare in other departments?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Oh, let’s not pretend the man was issued an impressive set of equipment.

**INTERVIEWER:** Meaning?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He’s a very small man with a very large opinion of himself. I’ll let your readers draw their own conclusions.

**INTERVIEWER:** Is his confidence justified?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Let’s just say that his ego has considerably more girth than anything else he’s bringing to the marriage.

**INTERVIEWER:** That’s a fairly brutal assessment.

**MRS. WEXLER:** You haven’t seen him standing beside the President during a press conference. The President is talking about dismantling the social safety net, and my husband looks like he’s just been handed the keys to a Ferrari.

**INTERVIEWER:** So the President’s policies are more stimulating to him than anything else?

**MRS. WEXLER:** I’m afraid so.

**INTERVIEWER:** How long does that enthusiasm last?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Oh, not long. He’s a government employee, after all. Even his excitement seems to have a budget ceiling.

**INTERVIEWER:** That’s cruel.

**MRS. WEXLER:** Marriage is cruel. Marriage is looking at the man you love and thinking, *“That’s it? That’s the entire package?”*

**INTERVIEWER:** What happens when the President announces another benefit cut?

**MRS. WEXLER:** My husband suddenly stands taller.

**INTERVIEWER:** Even though he’s short?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Especially because he’s short.

**INTERVIEWER:** And when the President praises him?

**MRS. WEXLER:** He becomes insufferable. You’d think he’d personally negotiated the Magna Carta.

**INTERVIEWER:** What’s the secret to keeping him happy?

**MRS. WEXLER:** Tell him the President is brilliant, tell him poor people are probably gaming the system, and never, ever suggest that the man in the Oval Office might be wrong.

**INTERVIEWER:** That’s quite a prescription.

**MRS. WEXLER:** It has fewer side effects than marriage counseling.

See less

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A Curmudgeon’s Viewpoint (March 29, 2026)

Papabear had a bit of a crisis…

Let’s just say up front, I am only relating this as a way for all of you to get a little glimpse into papabear’s life. (Bear with me, it gets interesting. – PapaDeanBear)

Yesterday, the house was a bit of a madhouse. My husband had volunteered to do the main course for a spaghetti dinner for our local senior LGBTQ+ organization, SAGEUpstate (link at the end.) Well, in all the madness of moving stuff from our kitchen to the car, our orange and white menace 🐱slipped out. We didn’t notice at the time.

I actually went to the spaghetti dinner later on (had to Uber, goddamnit) to help the hubby with cleanup and loading the car with leftovers and unused canned tomato products and pasta. So my darling hubby and I get back from it, unload the car, and get settled for the night.

The next day, I am looking around for my boy, and I can’t find him. I ask Dan (my husband) if he has seen the cat, and of course he says “Don’t worry about it, he’ll turn up.” (Fuck you very much for your reassurance.) So I am sick with worry. I love my furbabies, they are family.

So, I go through out the day doing things to distract myself, try to dispel my mental agony, like watching some of my favorite YouTube channels. So, I am basically trying to distract myself and failing, and my despair worsens.

About an hour ago (as of this writing,) my hubby barges into my den, and sure as shit, he has the orange and white menace in his arms. What happened was, Dan had taken the house horse (our Great Dane) outside to go potty (we have a fenced in back yard) and she went and chased away a feral cat that was stalking the birds that congregated around the bird feeder. He went to get her to bring her in, and sure enough the goddamn cat was sitting there behind the garage.

Suffice it to say, this cranky, cigar-smoking old man broke down in tears knowing that my boy is safe.

If any of you are an LGBTQ+ senior citizen, here is the link to SAGEUpstate:
https://www.sageupstate.org/

(And my boy’s name is BeBe, short for Butterball. He is a bit of a chonk. The house horse’s name is Della. – PDB)

-30-

© 2026, Dean A. Basler Jr., all rights reserved.



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A Curmudgeon’s Viewpoint (September 14, 2025)

Hello Dystopian America!

Here’s the NEWS!

Brian Kilmeade makes a statement on “Fox & Friends” that mentally ill homeless who refuse to get off the streets and/or help or treatment should be euthanized by lethal injection. Nazi Germany under the leadership of Adolph Hitler proceeded to exterminate 250,000 mentally ill/disabled people.

His words: “Or involuntary lethal injection or something — just kill ’em.”

After walking back his statement, he doesn’t get punished by Fox News.

Matthew Dowd, a political analyst for MSNBC made this statement about Charlie Kirk while talking with MSNBC anchor Katy Tur:

“Hateful thoughts lead to hateful words, which then lead to hateful actions.”

BOOM! Immediate termination by the higher-ups at MSNBC. And this is happening while Comcast is preparing to spin off MSNBC as a separate network, and controversy and antagonizing the government would make that impossible.

Gee, sounds like shades of Stephen Colbert getting shitcanned right before the Paramount/CBS-Skydance Media merger, which was pretty much orchestrated by Donald Trump because he controls the FCC, ergo the broadcast licenses of the CBS O&O (owned and operated) television stations.

(And if you have been watching Colbert, you have seen him just push everything to the limit on his show, because they cancelled him and they can’t do a goddamn thing about what he puts on short of pulling the plug and having Colbert sit out the rest of his contract.)

Is the mainstream media running scared? You’re goddamn right they are. And this is the first step in the slide to an authoritarian regime, control the media to control the narrative. Then they can feed the public any kind of bullshit that that they can dream up in their twisted little minds.

(I wrote a blog post in August 2021 about a weird fucking dream I had that sort of touched on the dystopian nightmare that we have now.)

https://deanbasler.com/2021/08/14/a-curmudgeons-viewpoint-august-14-2021/

Trump is sickly, mentally ill, and delusional. All this bullshit that he does such as paving over the Rose Garden to make it look like his shithole “resort” in Florida, building a new ballroom at the White House, because “the American people want it.” NO WE FUCKING DON’T!

What do Americans in general want? Affordable groceries. Affordable housing. Health care without restrictions. Being able to worship in their own way. Being able to love someone openly regardless of gender.

What have we gotten?

An attorney general (Pam Bondi) who just parrots whatever rises to to the surface of Trump’s adderal-fueled pea brain.

A communications director (Steven Cheung) who looks like the rotting corpse of the Pillsbury Doughboy who also parrots whatever rises to to the surface of Trump’s adderal-fueled pea brain.

A deputy chief of staff (Stephen Miller) who at the base is a self-hating Jew and chief architect of the Trump administration (Joseph Goebbels reincarnated?)

A FBI director who has no fucking clue how to run the FBI (Kash Patel) and can’t provide a straight answer when he is grilled by Congress. Not to mention his deputy (Dan Bongino, who does have law enforcement experience) who was more concerned with being a media personality than a law enforcement official. (And was slammed by former colleagues in the Secret Service as basically a grandstander.)

A White House press secretary (Karoline Leavitt) who is basically nothing more than eye candy for Trump and just keeps broken-record-ing the same shit over and over when grilled by the White House press pool.

And to top it all off, a sociopathic businessman (Elon Musk) who was brought in to “improve efficiency and reduce costs” in government, but according to projections, will potentially increase the deficit to $2.6 TRILLION by fiscal year 2035.

And to top it all off, there is the main man himself, DJT (and his demented Tattoo JDV, Fantasy Island anyone?) constantly changing the fucking goal line because he is a superficial sociopathic malignant narcissistic unhealthy sack of shit who shoves his tongue so far up the assholes of strongmen and dictators that Febreeze should be carried by his protective detail to mitigate the shit-smell that comes out of his mouth when he speaks.

Am I fucking scared? Yes! I am fucking scared! The current administration is turning against anyone who isn’t white, straight, Christian, and greedy.

There are signs of life in the American political landscape, though. The MAGA base is starting to show cracks in the foundation, as the tariffs and hardline ICE crackdowns are destroying trust in the government. Governors of states (JB Pritzker in Illinois mainly) are telling Trump to NOT send the National Guard into cities to “assist” law enforcement like they did in Los Angeles and Washington D.C. (As of this writing, Trump has backed off Chicago and is now saying that he is going to send the National Guard to Memphis, TN to “combat rampant crime.”)

Also, there is independent media that should be watched and read, such as Mother Jones and The MeidasTouch Network. Sure, the mass media is good at shoving the big picture at you, but they are driven by advertising dollars. They don’t want your attention to stray from the pretty flickering picture box with all the ads blasting their audio at you in Dolby Atmos.

Okay, I got a bit verbose again (blame the cannabis sativa gummies, cigars, and dark roast coffee) so I am going to wrap this up by saying:

VOTE IN THE MIDTERM ELECTIONS! I think that there will be a larger turnout than in the general election that brought Trump back to power, because the vox populi have seen what has happened over the past eight months. If public sentiment is any indication, both the House and the Senate can be swung over to the left, and act as a check valve on whatever bullshit Trump can dream up in the remainder of his term.

I am Dean Basler, and I support (and also wrote) this message.

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(c) 2025, Dean A. Basler Jr., all rights reserved.