Pimples on the Butt of Putin’s lapdog


The set of matryoshka dolls my friend “Michael Glitterman” gave me when he worked for the State Department in the former Iron Curtainish state of Yugoslavia.

I sometimes wish I could write my Reader columns a day in advance instead of a week in advance. Today is such a day.

Alas, I wrote about something topical, to me especially, and submitted it on Saturday. It was about my Valentines Day Heart Attack. That was pretty much the title. It will show up today or tomorrow at my supermarket. It suggests that the potential death dealing incident lightened my mood. I knew within a couple hours of the Doctor’s play-by-play that if I behaved, my heart would allow me to proceed with some political plans without interference from a widow making event. Not shoveling our recent twenty additional inches of snow has been hard for me but I have to deal with some pimples before I lapse back into snow sculpting again.

Two weeks ago I referred to the looming possibility of a Russian attack in a column two weeks ago. It makes me seem more prescient than ever as I describe our congressmen as the matryoshka doll inside Donald Trump. Trump is the “Butt” in this post’s title. Today that attack has begun. I read it before going to bed last night which made my sleep impossible. To stop thinking about it I put in two hours of French study. That’s become my usual soporific (I love that fifty cent word. It was in one of Beatrix Potter’s Peter Rabbit stories) for the past couple years.

I eventually got a little over three hours of sleep with, according to my wrist band, almost an hour of Alzheimers’s cleansing REM sleep. I’d lend my fitbit to our Congressman, Pete Stauber, but because of his pimple status its fairly obvious its already too late for him.

And dealing with the new Putin Cold war gives me one more reason to celebrate having gotten my heart attack out of the way. I will baby myself a bit for a month or two to let my heart heal a little. I’ll need to have it healthy in the coming months while it is still a little raw.

Today’s Republican Party traded in Lincoln and Reagan for a lap dancing dog. I mean to do something about that!

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