We Will Pass Through You.

 

I came face to face with it yesterday. Or rather face to mask I should say. I thought anti-mask rage tantrums would be confined to my more uncomfortable moments on social tedium, but Jesus was I wrong.

Yesterday was National Thrift Store day as I am sure you well know and there was an item at St. Vinnies that I thought I needed to have, but certainly not at full price, but I thought that if St. Vinnies was doing a half-off sale for the holiday it would be worth it. I should have called and asked, but I really didn't see any kind of adventure in that so I hopped in the Bronco and drove down to check it out. It was a rather handsome Spode vase, but certainly not full-price handsome.

Well, first off they were not holding any kind of sale for National Thrift Store Day so I became deflated almost immediately upon entering the store. The Spode vase I had wanted was still there, but was still full price so I decided to pass on it as I had agreed upon this with myself.

Well, before I knew it there was a man without a mask in the store and the nice ladies at St. Vinnies were insistent that he 'mask-up' or depart. Hillbilly did not take kindly to this and told them 'They should consult the law!' He then got right up into the nice ladies face, no mask or anything and looked rather menacing. I immediately began to recite the litany against fear, but the man seemed to be all bark and no bite because he decided to leave after making only a partial ass of himself.

I was saved from being a set piece in someone's viral video, but the whole experience made me commit to buying the Spode vase whether it was on sale or not just to show support for my local thrift store, but when I went back to buy the vase some bitch, and I do mean BITCH in its most pejorative sense, had grabbed the vase and was cradling it in her arms as though she had just scored the Koh-i-Nor diamond.

If I was shaking before this made me come almost completely undone. Who on Earth does that? She only grabbed the vase because she had seen me look at it and put it away and it wasn't on sale and if you weren't buying it on principle like myself why wouldn't you wait a day until 10% off Tuesday?

I don't know who this flossy bitch thought she was fooling, but I wasn't even going to upset myself over it. One, I didn't even want the vase and two, it wasn't even vintage Spode so not really even anything that would go with my collection and three, I could find a lot more choice pieces on eBay that were actually vintage if I but looked which of course I had to do when I got home, but really?

Both of these characters were simply too much for me on a Monday. The man with his anti-mask rage and this woman with her buy on Monday skip 10% off Tuesday profligacy had me shaking my head all the way home. 

Only in Idaho.

The Size Of Anything Communicates Little.

The Houston Asscowns got their feewings all hurt by the scurrilous albeit ruggedly handsome Athletics. It may have been the pile-on of crumby luck the Assclowns have been experiencing or the trademarking of the Asterisk and its subsequent dissemination all up and down social media, but whatever the case the girls in cheating beige had simply had enough. Benches cleared, social distancing thrown to the wind, uniforms ruffled, shoves were thrown. It was an unseemly spectacle one expects on an episode of Housewives, but not in the ranks of professional athletes who are suppose to have their shit together when fans are actually present and screaming racist shit at them.

I do know how they feel however. The way I have been navigating around the shit storm of right-wing dementia that is Idaho has hurt my feelings finally and properly. From the militant anti-maskers to the clueless asthmatic wanderers who must fight for every breath yet never miss a single mark-down item at Deseret Thrift Stores the kaleidoscope of infantile self-absorption really keeps one on one's toes.

Grindr and all the other social media sites I have been dedicating myself are a shit storm of horny cowboys and overfed college kids. And although the Costco is opening in less than a week and my sense of impending dread is crushing this is still very much a small town and Grindr may be the only game in town so if you enter you should be prepared to field a shedload of 'Heys'.

I had to seriously talk myself out of a blowjob and free weed the other day because I have been in Idaho for 2 months and although people here will scream about their right's being infringed by being asked to wear a mask in a store there is no way to have weed legally delivered to your house and you can't walk to single gay bar let alone 4 so temptation may have momentarily overwhelmed my fear of untimely death.

I pulled myself out at the last minute and thought of England or at a minimum the falafel plate at Zankou. I will be heading back to Los Angeles shortly and ever so briefly and really just to see if my renters insurance is doing its work and that my apartment is still standing. 

I have received periodic text messages about the status of roof replacement and subsequent asbestos abatement projects in the stairwell, but one really has to see for oneself if all of one's worldly possession have been looted and rioted by those outrageous far-left Socioliberal dumbycrats I read so often about in the local paper. The sense of dread here is both palpable and easily dismissed.