My tummy is aching because I overate food stuff. Now onward with the publication of my rants, which are personal and in no way, shape, or forms meant to offend any one persons, including spiritual visitors of old.
Anyway, I forgot. Um, yeah, hold on, I’m thinking. Okay, I’ve set this personal weblog back to ‘public’ and going forward, I’ll have to MANUALLY approve certain comments outta privacy. Whatever.
So this evening, Das Squirrel visited his Mommy Dearest after his hard work and called us why we are not present. I awoke after crashing one hour from 1700 to 1800 when he called and could barely answer properly.
While Dad was walking around in circles between the hospital and the nearby park, Das Squirrel shared his experiences. He said that while there are strangers and staff visiting the room, we are to turn off my iPad Pro 12.9″. Because Mom loves Trump, we would watch news, politics, and speeches via my YouTube Premium membership account, which of course is the first initial of my first name strung together with my last name. Voila!
He said that humans are crazy and act like stupid animalz around politics, religion, and of course sporting events. I noticed these humans would wear their ‘colors’ or other expensive consumer goods to prove they belong to ‘them’ while giving away their hard earned cash to these wealthy few who could care less for creating a toxic environment of exclusive ‘narcissists’.
He further mentioned that Mom might receive substandard medical care under the hands of these liberal progressives. I know. Because one SAI reported her findings to representatives in Chicongoland.
Oh, y’all know which hospital I’m talking about because I’ve posted a recent image sporting something unnatural and unacceptable to God! God have mercy on us, please! Amen!
So I told him that Mom didn’t care to express her political preference for Trump, whom she sensed and felt was really telling the truth and honest to enough to keep his promises.
I know. If y’all follow the date/timestamp of my weblogs and then follow the newsworthy outlets for synchronized narratives, y’all will NOT doubt unto moi!
But who cares? No one cares until it’s too late as we slowly cook ourselves to death outta ignorance.