Another woman has come forward to admit that she plans to vote for #Trump. That brings the total to 38 women who publicly admit they will vote for trump. Trump seems to be trying hard to alienate women voters. He likes to call people, especially women, “fat” and/or “ugly” or make comments about their looks and/or weight. Here is a partial list of things or people that Trump calls fat or ugly:
 
The stock market -- “big, fat, ugly bubble.” Okay, he might know a thing or two about the stock market. Stock brokers are often depicted as fat and rich or fat and ugly.
 
Miss Universe, Alicia Machado -- “a massive amount of weight.” Ay Dios Mio! WTF? The most beautiful woman in the universe? I bet any beauty contest is a lot like a wrestling match or box bout; contenders have to make their weight so they slim down to fighting weight. Later they can relax and put on a few pounds. Give me a break.
 
Rosie O’Donnell -- a “fat pig” and has a “fat, ugly face.” She may be calorically challenged, but ugly -- no way.
 
Jennifer Lopez -- has a “fat a--” Ay Dios Mio! This is proof that Trump has failing eyesight. Maybe he has failing judgement also. I think it’s just his bigotry showing through.
 
Kim Kardashian -- had “gotten a little large” I’m sure she laughed all the way to the bank.
 
An employee -- He kept a “fat photo.” Probably a violation of the law.
 
An employee -- “you like your candy.” Who doesn’t like candy?
 
Comment to a reporter -- “everybody loves a fat guy.” Apparently, he doesn’t apply this to women. It’s a common phrase but falling out of use lately. Everyone doesn’t like a “calorically challenged” guy, especially a politician, somehow doesn’t sound right.
 
Chris Christie – Trump has joked about his size. If everybody loves a fat guy, why did Chris undergo lap-band stomach surgery in 2013?
 
.@ariannahuff is unattractive both inside and out. .@ariannahuff is unattractive both inside and out.Arianna Huffington -- is “unattractive both inside and out!” Looks beautiful to me, but I’m an old guy; anyone younger than me looks attractive. I guess he used his x-ray vision to see inside her.
 
Carly Fiorina -- “Look at that face!” Again, looks beautiful to me, but I’m an old guy; anyone younger than me… You know what I mean.
 
Gail Collins (NY Times columnist) – “the face of a dog!” Trump has now insulted dogs and dog owners. I have a dog, and I love her. I never saw a dog’s face I couldn’t love. The nick name of soldiers in the 3rd Infantry is “Dog Face Soldier.” I was one for three years. I resemble Trump’s remark.
 
Heidi Klum – “Sadly, she’s no longer a 10.” As Heidi might say, “Ach du liebe Zeit! “Du Schweinehund!” Once again, proof that Trump needs an eye exam. She’s an 11 if anything.  

Megyn Kelly – “bimbo.” WTF? Once again, proof that Trump needs an eye exam.

Rand Paul – “Ugly.” Okay. Trump may have gotten this one right -- just luck. It’s like a monkey at a typewriter -- he’s bound to get one right if he keeps at it.

Bette Midler – “extremely unattractive woman.” I said it before, Trump needs an eye examination.

So in summary… Trump has alienated most if not all women, calorically challenged people (men and women), ugly people, dogs and their owners, Muslims, Latinos, and immigrates. If he loses the election, he’ll blame the microphone and the liberal media. We can only hope.
​
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​

Now that Pepe has been outed as a racist, many other cartoon characters are speaking out. Pepe has been depicted wearing a Hitler-like moustache, wearing a yarmulke or a KKK hood along with racist messages against Jews and others on Twitter.
 
Rumor has it that Kermit the Frog recently said, “It isn’t easy being green but WTF, that doesn’t give anyone the right to attack others.” Kermit feels that Pepe doesn’t speak for the rest of the frog kingdom or even reptiles. The Ninja Turtles may have been quick to point out that they aren’t frogs and have made a career out of fighting evil. Apparently, they don’t agree with Pepe’ point of view and they are looking for him. Daffy Duck said, “You're dethpicable.” Another rumor has it that Bugs Bunny was quoted as saying. “What’s up Frog? When you go around feeling a little Goofy, that makes you a pervert.” When asked about Pepe, Popeye the Sailor Man said, “That’s all I can stands ‘cus I can’t stands no more.”
 
Other character coming out against Pepe may include Homer Simpson and Bart Simpson, Spongebob Squarepants, Scooby Doo, Mickey Mouse, and Stewie Griffin and Peter Griffin. Okay, I made that up, but it could happen. Cartoons are supposed to be apolitical.
 
Stay ‘tooned,’ more to come.
 
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The presidential debates start on Monday. It’s expected to have a large number of viewers. However, debates tend to be boring. I had recommended that the candidates pose in the nude during the debates. That idea was rejected. Donald #Trump has called for Hillary #Clinton to disarm her Secret Service detail. I didn’t hear that he has done the same. That could make for an interesting debate. The dynamics would surely change. But disarming the body guards isn’t enough. Trump and Clinton should also remove any Kevlar body armor to include Kevlar suits, pants, jockey shorts, and bras. Trump should keep in mind that Clinton is a smaller target. Shooting politicians is an old America tradition. However, since those recommendations weren’t approved, I’ve come up with other ideas.

First, it will be necessary for viewers to gather in clusters to watch the debates – both Republicans and Democrats must be represented. If viewers from other parties are present, all the better, but they must chose a candidate to root for. Here are my suggestions on how viewers can enjoy the debates:

DRINKING GAMES. The first idea is a drinking game. Every time one of the candidates says certain words or does certain things, the viewers that support that candidate must take a drink of whatever beverage both side agree on. I recommend beer. The actions are when Trump pouts his lips, when Clinton coughs or when either one interrupts the moderator, Lester Holt from NBC. The words for both are: “skittles”, “Benghazi”, “tax returns”, “deplorables” and “health”. Please don’t drink and drive.
 
WORD COUNTING. The next suggestion is counting certain words to see how many times they are used by either candidate. The side with the highest count wins. The words must be agreed upon by all sides prior to the debate starting. Some suggested words are “emails” and “my opponent”.
 
OFFENSE VERUS DEFENSE. Whenever one of the candidates goes on the offense, the team that supports that candidate gets one point. At the end of the debates, the side with the highest number of points wins. A prize must be awarded.
 
I hope these ideas will make the debates more interesting.
​
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Angels and Gargoyles, Part 13
 
In 2012 I published a novella, Angels and Gargoyles and offered it for free. Since then it has been downloaded 1675 times. I thought I would post it on my blog a little at a time for your enjoyment. I’ll post it once or twice a week. If you would like a free copy, go to http:/smashwords.com/b/149430. Here is Part 13. Enjoy.
 
“Mother Mary, Three has no knowledge of sex and how it is related to having babies,” explained Peter.

“Oh, my,” said Mary. “But surely a man of your experience can explain it to her.”

“Mother Mary, I cannot explain any such thing to an angel, specially a female one.”

“Oh, I see. Very well. Come with me Three! This will be just between us girls. No men allowed.”

St. Mary took Three by the hand and left St. Peter’s office. Peter sat back down and Garth followed his lead. Garth was grinning. Peter looked at Garth’s grin and asked, “Do you find this amusing?”

Garth smiled, “St. Mary called Three a girl. Didn’t you hear it? It was nice. She is my girl.”

Peter held his head in his hands. “The Saints help us! I can’t stand much more of this,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I just wanted to have a quiet convention, but now it has turned into a nightmare.” Peter took a pipe from his desk, stuffed it with tobacco, and lit it.

“You smoke?” asked Garth

“La Gargouille got me started. I only use it to relieve tension. Believe me, I need it now.”

“Why did St. Mary bless my hands?”

“She has her reasons. It will be revealed, I am sure.”

“Why did she bless Three’s stomach?”

“I am afraid to conjecture, but it too will be revealed I am sure.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Garth.

“You heard Mother Mary and whatever she wants, she gets. You will become human, be married, and have babies. Now let me figure this out!”

Garth sat lost in his thoughts until Three returned. He jumped up when he saw her face. “You are crying. What happened? What did she say?”

Kneeling in front of Garth Three answered, “She explained to me why I can’t have a hundred babies. She said maybe twelve, but more like two or three. She had only one.”

Garth held her face in his huge hands, tenderly wiping her tears. He began to stroke her hair as she silently sobbed. Peter wiped his own tears as quickly as they formed in the corners of his eyes. He thought of his wife and children. He was reminded of his own courtship many years long past. St. Mary may be right!

Finally Garth said, “Don’t worry, we could adopt.”

Three looked up, “Adopt? What does that mean?”

“It’s like a guardian angel to a baby that is given up for adoption, but the baby lives with you.”

“Really?” exclaimed an excited Three as she sat back into her chair. “Can we adopt a hundred?”

“I am not sure but maybe.”​
​
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1.      Don’t be a Democrat
 
Being a #Democrat will set you up for a hack job. Let’s review the evidence: First the Democratic National Committee (#DNC) gets hacked. #Wikileaks released  20,000 emails stolen from the servers of the #DNC. Whoa, wait, stop. Wrong info. I got my newsfeeds crossed. Sorry about that. No one has come forward as the leaker (leakee? whistleblower?). Of course, it may have been the new transparency in government that the parties are touting. Some security firms are suggesting it was hackers from (pick one or more): Russia, ISIS, the #Republican Party, North Korea, or Bernie #Sanders.
 
Then there was the #Clinton campaign headquarters. There is some speculation that Hilary Clinton's email account was successfully hacked. She’s a Democrat by the way. Dick #Durbin is the Democratic Senator from #Illinois. Sure enough, the Illinois state board of election got hacked. Now we hear that Colin #Powell, a former Republican but now a Democrat and supporter of Hillary has had his emails hacked.
 
To paraphrase FBI Director James #Comey, I don't think the Democrats are particularly sophisticated with respect to handling email servers. Apparently, there is no truth to the rumor that the DNC is seeking administrative assistants that know how to use typewriters. A rumor is also going around that they would like a type of email that self-destructs after fifteen minute. (Okay, I must confess, I started that rumor.) I predict that Snapchat will be the new server for all Democratic Party correspondence.

2.      Don’t attack Trump
 
It’s obvious that Trump is behind all the hacking, not #Russia. Everyone is too quick to blame #Russia. That’s a Red Herring. Let’s review the evidence. First the Democratic National Committee (DNC) gets hacked. If Trump didn’t do it, he should certainly be a “person of interest.” He has the motive, the money and will to do. Then there was the Clinton campaign headquarters. Okay, same deal.
 
Now consider the case of Democratic Sen. Dick Durbin from Illinois who cautioned that Trump’s "radical" and "extreme" positions would pose a challenge for #Republican candidates in #Illinois. Then Republican U.S. Sen. Mark #Kirk also from Illinois tried to distance himself from Trump. So sure enough, the Illinois state board of election website got hacked.
 
Earlier, John #McCain, the Republican Senator from #Arizona nearly withdrew his support for Trump, but settled for a warning. So sure enough, the Arizona state board of elections website got hacked.

Now we hear that Colin #Powel, a supporter of Hillary and a critic of Trump, has had his emails hacked. Coincident? I think not. I’m not saying that Trump is doing all the hacking himself, I just saying if you attack Trump in public, your emails will be hacked.
 
3.      Don’t be Secretary of State
 
Colin Powell, Secretary of State under Bush, 2001 – 2005. His emails were hacked. Hillary Clinton, Secretary of State under Obama, 2009 – 2013. Her emails were hacked. If you want to protect your emails, avoid holding this office at all costs.
 
4.      Don’t use email
 
Have you noticed that all the victims of hacking were users of email? Coincident? The best way to protect your emails is to never, ever use it. In days of old, we used to download all critical information and take it off site to protect it. The email server shouldn’t keep records of messages on the server.
 
As they say, live and learn. This blog will self-destruct in 15 seconds. You’ve been warned.
​
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In 2012 I published a novella, Angels and Gargoyles and offered it for free. Since then it has been downloaded 1675 times. I thought I would post it on my blog a little at a time for your enjoyment. I’ll post it once or twice a week. If you would like a free copy, go to http:/smashwords.com/b/149430. Here is Part 12. Enjoy.
 
“Did you explain to her about S-E-X?”

“I know how to spell, guys. What do I need to know about sex? What does sex have to do with getting married and having babies?”

“Obviously, you did not tell her.”

“She is a million years older than me. I thought she knew.”

“Well, now you have got to tell her. You do know about sex, right?”

Garth hesitated before he answered, “No, not really.”

Peter stared at Garth in disbelief. Garth shifted in his chair. Finally he said, “I may have seen a video or two.”

Peter continued to stare as Garth continued to squirm. “Okay, I may have watched a human couple in the Chrysler Building. They weren’t supposed to be there. It’s not like a hotel or anything. Anyway, it happened and I saw.”

“Finally, a moment of truth! Now you explain it to her.”

“I can’t.”

St. Peter shook his head. “And why not?”

Garth’s skin turned a darker shade of gray. “Did you just blush?” asked a surprised Peter.

“I don’t know. I guess so. I can’t control it.”

“Yes, you blushed!” yelled an excited Three.

Peter said, “I don’t want to hear about it. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First of all you cannot become humans. Marriage is forbidden. I won’t allow it. So is sex for that matter. Therefore, no babies.”

Suddenly the door to St. Peter’s office opened and a small, elderly woman dressed in a white pants suit stepped in.

“Mother of God!” cried Peter as he dropped to his knees.

Three knelt down, pulling a startled Garth down on his knees next to her.

“Mother Mary, what brings you to my humble office?” asked Peter.

“I just heard and wanted to see for myself,” answered St. Mary. “Is this the couple? Of course it is. Just look at them--so in love! They just glow don’t they? I think it is wonderful. There is always room for more love in heaven.”

“They want to get married,” grumbled Peter.

“Yes! Yes!” cried Mary. “A splendid idea!”

“But there is no precedent for it, Mother Mary. It will undermine discipline.”

“Oh, nonsense. You can just make them human. That will work. I understand you brought these two love birds together. I never thought of you as being romantic. I will be sure to mention the splendid job you do to my Son. Keep up the good work.”

Mary march over to Three and laying hands on her, blessed her. Next she laid hands on her abdomen and blessed it. Garth stood up so Mary blessed the top of his head. She held his hands and turned his palms up to bless each one.

“As long as you are here, Mother Mary, perhaps you could help by explaining sex to Three.”

“Oh yes, sex; God’s greatest gift to mankind. You two will really enjoy sex.”
​
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I post this short story every year about this time. It’s one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it.
 
Good Neighbors, a Short Story
 
Weeks of obsessive tending and gentle turning ensured a blue ribbon for his biggest pumpkin next weekend. His chest puffed with impending pride as he fantasized about the envious stares of the other town folk, including that attractive, stuck-up woman next door, who always looked through him, not at him.

An easterly wind was starting as he watched the sky darken. The wind felt cool against his skin compared to the moist warm weather that soaked him in sweat as he hoed around his pumpkin earlier. As bright, painted leaves rained on his crop, he heard an infant's cry and turned his head toward the top of the hill. Under the old maple, his stuck-up neighbor was shielding a bundle from the wind, fumbling with her blouse. Probably trying to breast-feed the baby, he thought. He felt a little sorry for her; a single mother with an infant. He tried to be a good neighbor, but her stuck up attitude kept him at a distance. Maybe she did not trust men any more. He paid her no mind. He was single too and had his own problems.

He wondered what she was doing at the top of the hill but then recalled seeing her walking the narrow path to her girlfriend’s house about half a mile beyond his own house. His hat was torn from his head as the wind grew stronger. He looked at the distant clouds moving at a great speed toward him. The horizon was a solid wall of clouds that gave a greenish tint to the sky. He had seen enough to recognize the signs -- tornado!

Looking back at the maple tree, he could see the mother had knelt down by the base to shelter her baby. Realizing that a tornado could tear the old tree apart in seconds, he shouted to warn her, but his voice was drowned out in the strong wind. He ran to the top of the hill as fast as he could. When he reached her he shouted, “You can’t stay here. Too dangerous!” Half pulling, half jerking, he got her up with the baby.

“Where?” she yelled. The noise was as loud as the 7:20 freight train that passed through town every night without stopping.

He looked back at his house; too far! He looked at her house; even farther! He yelled back at her, “Come with me.” He cradled the baby in one arm, and then led her by the other. If they could make to his pumpkin patch, and lie down behind his prize pumpkin, they just might have enough protection. Placing the baby as close to the pumpkin as possible, he had the mother shield it with her body as he covered her body with his.

The wind grew stronger and louder then it grew quiet again. Peering over the top of the pumpkin, he saw the tornado rise up into the clouds and pass overhead without doing any damage. They had been spared along with their houses. He looked over at his crop fields to see how much damage was done to the corn, and saw a wall of hail the size of golf balls cutting through the corn as clean as a sickle, destroying everything in its path.

The hail would reach them in seconds. He realized that they would be injured in their exposed position. Without a word he pulled the woman to her feet and placed the baby in her arms. He was frantic. Picking up his hoe, he swung at his prize pumpkin. After two or three tries, the shell split open. He dropped the hoe, and used his hands to scoop out the insides. The woman realized what he was doing and began helping. When the pumpkin was half-empty she placed the baby inside the pumpkin. He helped her get inside as much as possible with the baby, covering them with the pumpkin rinds. Her legs were exposed, so he laid down on them, and spread his hands over her thighs to cover as much of her as possible.
Hail began to pelt them just as he was finishing. At first, a few struck him, but they hurt like hell. Then they came down by the hundreds. He tried not to yell as they hit him across his back, legs, and head. He knew he was going to be black and blue in the morning. After a couple of minutes, it was over. Mother and baby crawled out of the pumpkin covered in juice and seeds. He hurt in so many places that he did not know which spots to rub first.

She looked at the ice from the hail in his hair and clothes, and brushed it out. He began to pick off pumpkin seeds from the baby’s face and from her hair. She smiled, and they both began to laugh. She wiped her face with her sleeve, and then his face, kissing his cheek after she wiped it. “You saved us,” she said. “Thank you.”

They both looked down at the shattered pumpkin.

“Was that your pumpkin that you were going to enter into the fair?”

“Yeah! Well, I can grow another one next year. But it could have been worst. We could have been killed. A prize pumpkin is no big loss.”

“Well, you are very brave. It was quick thinking on your part. You are my hero. Are you hurt?”
“I don’t know. Are hero’s supposed to feel like a punching bag?”

“I guess so. Sometimes. As you said, it could have been worst. I will tell you what; I need to take the baby home, and clean her up. Why don’t you save some of this pumpkin, and come over to the house later? I will make some pumpkin pies. I may have a salve for those bruises too.”

“Okay,” he answered. This may be the start of a new good neighbor policy, he thought.
 
THE END

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