Trumped in America

I don’t normally write about politics but I’m going to break the habit by writing two posts about the subject; one far away and one a lot closer to home.

I’ll start with something that I can’t change but has had me ranting with the incredulity of it all: Donald Trump’s presidential campaign.

Before I get my soapbox out, let me just say that American politics is usually of no interest to me at all. When it appears on UK news, I tend to switch off – sometimes literally turning the television off. 

But this man has had me ranting like there is no tomorrow. At first, it was a joke and I actually chuckled at his antics and outrageous comments. I mean, how could he be serious? 

I thought it was a comedic publicity stunt, which I wouldn’t put past Donald Trump. I mean look at the guy! He has mad hair and a mad attitude.

And I complain about MY bad hair ...

He's like a walking parody of a politician, an idiot who allows his mouth to utter his thoughts without going through his mental firewall.

You can imagine his advisors saying "I don't think you should call all Mexicans rapists, Mr Trump!" only to be slapped down with such political incorrectness that you almost have to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Almost! Before you realise that he actually really believes it,

And now, after his recent wins, it’s looking likely that this eccentric nutcase will win the Republican nomination and be just a step away from the White House with only Hilary Clinton standing in his way.

How on earth has this happened?

From what I’ve read, a lot of Americans are just as incredulous as I am, but the truth is that his popularity reveals that a large percentage of Republicans actually agree with him. 

Has America gone mad?

Here are some things that this lunatic believes:

A great big wall should be built between the US and Mexico – and Mexico should pay for it.

11 million illegal immigrants should be deported, despite estimate that finding them and deporting them would cost in excess of $110 billion.

Climate change is just “bad weather”.

The US should use waterboarding as a means of interrogation.

Muslims should be tracked by law enforcement with all mosques in the US being put under surveillance.

Muslims should not be admitted into America. 

I wonder what happens to American Muslims – put under surveillance, obviously.

Even the Pope, the head  of the Roman Catholic church, has had a go at him, and we have had a debate in the UK parliament as whether he should be banned from the UK because of his xenophobic views, based on a petition that gained 570,000 signatures. 

Of course, it was never going to happen because the nutter may become president and we’re not going to enter a cold war with America, based on one idiot’s views. 

I don’t actually know whether I have faith in the American people to do the right thing. It’s the jingoism that surrounds the US elections that seems to matter rather than the important stuff. “We’re going to make America GREAT again!” is a war cry that is almost laughable. I would laugh if a British politician said it – in fact, I think most of them already have. The bottom line is that Britain is great DESPITE the arses who currently reside on the government side of the House of Commons.

And I’m sure that America is great too, despite what Trump says.

Moreover, Trump is a big fan of the right to bear arms. Yet, it seems like every day we hear about gun crime in the US with psychopaths committing mass murder. America would be much better if a would be politician promised to do something about the archaic gun laws over there.

I don’t understand why it is so important to have the right to bear arms. Any politician could make America greater by attacking important issues like this. Certainly Barack Obama did.

In the UK, guns are strictly controlled and because of this our murder rates due to firearms is tiny in comparison to the US.

The logic is there for all to see.

Worse, on the news today, I heard a report that even most Republicans don’t want Trump to be their candidate.  

So what’s going on across the pond?

I am praying that America sees sense and Trump himself is trumped! I have faith in the American people. I have visited America many times and I am certain that common sense will prevail.

Anyway, enough ranting – it’s time to end this with a bit of fun at Donald Trump’s expense. 

How about a bit of trumpeting for Trump?

Follow this link and have fun and let's hope that all of this is just a blip! 

Things My Cats Might Say

They say that an Englishman’s home is his castle. In my case, my own home is not my castle. It belongs to my three black cats.

Regular readers will know that three of these creatures rule my house.

The lord and master is Jasper, a fat furry blimp who spends most of his time asleep, only waking up to eat. He has a sixth sense that wakes him up whenever we go into the kitchen. He is a greedy moggy who eats for Britain. I also call him Fatty, Lardarse and, my current favourite, Monster.

Jasper in his usual position!

Next is Poppy, sister to Jasper, who is scared of everything, including me, and spends most of her time hiding or sleeping with one eye open in case there’s a shadow in the room. I also call her Crappy (because she is genuinely a crap cat). Mrs PM calls her Princess (which is probably more accurate).

Poppy about to flee from the great beast with mad hair - i.e. ME!!

Finally, we have Liquorice, a late addition to our feline family, who is the exact opposite of Poppy. She is a hellcat who has two traits – friendly condescension and extreme violence. Since her arrival our house has become a moggy warzone when she crosses paths with either of the other two. I call her Lickity and one of our friends calls her by my favourite name which just about sums her up: Slasher. Everybody who has come to our house and tried to stroke her has been attacked. Out of all the people in the house, I am her favourite – and she regularly scratches and/or bites me.

Move - or I will kill you!

In the middle of all this, I am a peacekeeping general dogsbody, slave to their every whim and less important to them than the deposits they leave in their litter trays.

Of course, Mrs PM dotes on them like they are children, when the reality is that they are black killing machines from which no tiny creature is safe.

Recently, Jasper has become very vocal, howling after every meal and every time we walk past him. It’s not just a silent miaow; it’s a deep almost growling noise that is reminiscent of one of his larger African cousins.

“I wonder why he does that?” I’ve asked Mrs PM.

“He’s probably just letting everyone know that he is king of the house, “ she says.

She’s probably right – and it’s has got my weird brain thinking about what he really is saying.

Here are my speculative guesses:

“All hail me, King of all I survey. Bow before my magnificence!”

“You! Slave! Prepare my dinner immediately, lest I bite your feet.”

“I have just produced a most disgusting crap and the smell offends me. By the way, I missed the litter tray because it was so big. Dispose of it immediately!”

“Do not touch me! I am preparing for my pre-sleep nap.”

“If you touch me again, I shall remove your face with my claws!”

“Oh yes – down a bit – up a bit – now scratch! Aaaahhh – that’s better. Now I can sleep.”

Poppy, the coward, might just be saying:

“Oh God! Here comes that ugly monster with the weird hair. Please help me!”

“You call that food? A mouse tastes much better – get me one!”

“What’s that? A shadow? AARRRRGGHHHHH!!!”

“Yes I know it’s 3 o’clock in the morning – but  I’m hungry!”

“I feel sick. Where shall I vomit? Ah – just here outside  the big blonde oaf’s bedroom door.”

Liquorice might just say:

“I’m comfortable on your knee. Move one muscle and I shall tear your limbs from your torso and feed them to next door’s dog.”

“I need something to attack. Ah! Here comes the blond punchbag – claws at the ready …”

“Decisions! Decisions! Shall I rub up against him or attack his bare leg? Decision made – claws at the ready …”

“There’s a killer on the loose again – and it’s ME!!”

“I want cat treats now – THIS INSTANT! You have five seconds before I rip your throat out. Oh thanks! You live to feed me another day.”

Trust me – that’s what I believe they would say and I am sure that Mrs PM agrees with me.

Oh oh! Liquorice has just jumped onto the computer desk and Jasper is watching with interest. I think I need to feed her otherwise this could be my last blog post.

Come on, your highness - let's get you some food.

Really Stupid People

It’s been a while since I did a little research on the internet so I thought I would fill that gap. It wasn’t long before I once again  drifted off at a tangent, having stumbled on a few items that highlighted just how stupid some people can be.

As I trawled through page after page of examples of idiocy, my mind boggled at how these people actually manage to get out of bed and leave the house on the morning.

Here are some examples from the usual sources; Facebook, Twitter, Yahoo and a few other places. Who is the dumbest out of the following group of muppets?

The person who asked if he could pay for things bought on the internet by putting their credit card in the DVD drive.

The person who started an ill-fated campaign to get “Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers” banned because he thought it was disrespectful to the memory of 911.

The person who thought that “Titanic” was just a movie and not based on a real event.

The President who thought that Africa was a country.

The person who thought that “#” was invented just for Twitter.

The person who thought that Mount Rushmore was a natural rock formation.

Carved by Mother Nature herself!!

The Presidential running mate who thought that Africa was a country.

The person who thinks that it takes 18 months for twins to be born.

The person who thinks Kanye West is brilliant for introducing us all to a new artist: Sir Paul McCartney.

The person who thinks there are only seven countries in the world: Asia, Africa, Antarctica, Australia, North America, South America and Europe.

The person who thinks that it is stupid to have a button in the lift for the floor he is on.

The person who thinks that it is dangerous to look at a picture of the sun.

DO NOT LOOK AT THIS PICTURE! IT IS DANGEROUS FOR YOUR EYES!

The person who thinks they have no toilet paper in Canada.

The person who thinks it never rains in Australia since “the rain falls into space because it is at the bottom of the world”.

The person who asked “What is Obama’s last name?”

The British person who thinks “Barraco Barner” is the British President.

"My name is Obama Barraco Barner! And I am taking over your country!"

The person who thinks that England and Ireland are the same country and therefore can’t play each other at sport.

The person who asked “Who was the first person to walk on the sun”?

The person who thinks that Christian Bale must be Christian because his name is Christian.

The person who thought that planet Earth was 2014 years old in the year 2014.

The person who thinks that the huge tower in Paris is called the “Ifold” Tower.

The Republican Party candidate who thinks we need Global Warming to combat the freezing snow in New York.

The person who doesn’t know where the North Pole is.

The person who thinks that it hurts to be cremated.

The people in a town in North Carolina who rejected a solar panel farm project because they thought that the panels would “suck up all the energy from the sun”.

So who do you think is the most stupid, dear reader?

I Can't Help It

Attention all women …

I am not a mind reader and don’t know what you are thinking. Please tell me what you want me to do.

I know that I always moan about romantic comedies. The romance is unrealistic and they are not funny, ergo they shouldn’t be called “romantic comedies”.

I don’t want to know why Sandra is upset. I don’t care that Sandra’s husband, Bill, is always in a bad mood. He’s probably in a bad mood because Sandra was telling Bill about Tabitha’s problems with her husband, Clive, while he was trying to watch the football. Bill has never met Tabitha or Clive. Bill probably never will meet Tabitha or Clive.  I have never met Sandra, Bill, Tabitha or Clive and I probably never will. And the football is on.

Talking of which – football is important, certainly more important than Sandra’s woes.

Man flu exists. It has been proven that men suffer more than women. Here is proof from a FEMALE neuroscientist.

Your hair looks wonderful. It always looks wonderful. Stop asking me how your hair looks.

I love your eyebrows. I will always love your eyebrows. Stop asking me about them.

I will buy you flowers, just not on Valentine’s Day because the price trebles.

I do not need to use products on my hair.

The phone call was from Fred. Yes, I know we chatted for five minutes but he didn’t tell me his life story so I can’t tell you.

Yes, I know I can be immature.

Please don’t take me shopping. I can’t bear standing in the lingerie department again while you try on your fourteenth different dress in three different sizes and then reject all of them.

I still think that the Twilight saga was rubbish and I always will think that it is rubbish.

You look beautiful. You are beautiful. You are always beautiful. Stop asking me if you look good.

I am asking you where my gloves are because they are not in the place where I put them.  I put them there so that I would know where they are. They are not there now. You must have moved them. That’s why I am asking you where they are.

I don’t need an hour to get ready to go out. Please let me finish my video game; we have another hour before the taxi arrives.

I’ll take the small suitcase. Yes I can fit all the clothes I need for a week in it.

I love you. I will always love you. I tell you all the time. Stop asking me if I love you.

I would rather extract all of my teeth with a hammer than go with you to see One Direction. It would be less painful.

I’ve just redecorated the entire house on my own. Stop shouting at me because I didn’t do the washing up.

I will take you out for a meal, just not on Valentine’s Day because on that day the restaurant will be full of blokes who don’t want to be there, each having a “romantic set meal for two” that is half the size of the usual meals and three times the normal price. Heart-shaped food and millions of tiny little heart-shaped bits of glitter don’t justify the extra cost.

No, I don’t know what the difference is between day cream and night cream. Nor do I want to know.

No, your “bum does not look big in this”.

Please explain to me what is going on in your head.

Why am I in trouble again? I don’t know what I’ve done. I can’t read your mind.

No, I don’t remember what I did on 5th April 1999. And how is it relevant to the current argument?

Bring me a beer and we can resolve all of our differences.

Please take note of the above.

I can’t help it! 

I’m a man!

Just remember this quote:

Women spend more time thinking about what men think than men actually spend thinking.

So true.