One News Network and Other Adventures

During a Friday jaunt in midtown I ran into America One. I had never heard of them before, but the newscaster looked like a white college frat boy rapist. Yes, the one you wouldn't leave your drink unattended with.

He was interviewing people about whether or not teachers should be armed. The answer to that is no, teachers should not be armed. He asked me and I told him what I thought. Arming teachers meant more issues with weapons whether they were being discharged in the middle of class or a troubled student finding them and taking their own life. It's a whole new set of complications. I said this not knowing who I was speaking to and the entitled white man behind the mic condescendingly said, "Thank you!" That's when he yanked the mic away from my face.

What had I done? My opinion had been an informed one. I hadn't insulted him or the two Trumkins from Maryland who want to arm every teacher. It's a different opinion.

Then I googled it. YUP! I was talking to some real Trump lovers. To me this was crazy and funny in a way that things could only happen in New York. I wanted to say to this future Ted Bundy, "Sir, you are in the liberal hub of the East Coast. I am also pan. If you don't know what that means look it up. And FYI shit for brains, this is my backyard, sucka!"

It always amazes me how conservatives whine about liberals being closed minded. Yet when you disagree with them they are always the first to shut down. I will be the first to listen to anyone with a differing opinion. Will I agree? Not necessarily, but I will listen.

Personally, I feel we need gun control in this country. Too many children are dying in school where they should be safe. Too many people minding their own business are being picked off by nutcases who obtained firearms. Why are people owning enough weapons to start their own militia? And for the love of Jesus, why is the NRA not sympathetic to the loss of these families. We are not taking your guns, we are just making sure people who shouldn't have them don't have them. I am entitled to be safe as are all hard working, law abiding people.

My life has also been touched by mental illness as I have blogged about in the past. While my previous partner is no longer a part of my life, the split was horrendous because he believed he did not need to be medicated. After the split, I found out there was a firearms charge on his record he neglected to tell me about. Because it was dropped to a misdemeanor (he cut a deal apparently) he can still legally obtain a firearm.

While my previous partner had a good heart and a kind soul, in the midst of a psychotic episode he was capable of anything. The fact that he and others like him can obtain weapons and there are people willing to sell without asking questions because they are self-righteous gun nuts makes me very nervous.

Before you tell me my ex is just a nut, he's a vet. A lot of vets don't think they need medicated for PTSD and one shot up a clinic a few weeks ago. Many vets come back and are never the same, and these same folks who don't feel they need medicated also have service weapons handy. While unfortunately many also kill themselves rather than innocent people, it's also a hard reality that the United States government was their arms dealer.

I am a friend to vets, but I am also aware of what life is like with someone who has a mental illness with psychotic features. I am aware of what a good day is like before something sets them off, and all of a sudden they believe with all their heart that Subway is a terrorist organization. And then the rant comes that Isis is in fact operating out of the chain eatery and they can no longer go there. While it seems funny to write about, it's beyond awful to see someone's mind swallow them up. But it's also potentially deadly when they are able to obtain a weapon.

When the Las Vegas shooting occurred, I remember someone asking me what would possess someone to do that. I explained psych illness. They said the man had no record of being mentally ill. I explained a lot of mentally ill people at times don't think they are sick. This same person explained he didn't know how someone could do that, or someone who would think of that.

That's when I remembered the time my former partner believed he saw snipers in the windows of our neighborhood, and told me he wished he was armed so he could take them out. These were people doing office tasks for the record as this was New York City. Just let that sink in.

There is the argument that arming teachers will stop shooters, and it might. But again, how are these unstable individuals getting guns? Also, what if a teacher fires a gun and accidentally shoots off their own hand? What if this same teacher kills themselves cleaning the gun? I grew up around guns and clearly these idiots proposing this know nothing about keeping them.

The fact this white boy potential date rapist didn't want to talk to me today says plenty. It says that the issues with guns will continue to be a problem if the closed minded right can't continue to have a dialogue. It says children will continue to die.

Ultimately, while I am glad I got away from my previous partner. In my heart I know while I could walk away from him, until he is medicated he cannot walk away from himself. And those who can't walk away from themselves sometimes walk towards weapons. Saying arming teachers will stop this is like saying hitting a misbehaving child will stop them. It only makes it worse, and arming teachers will only make this worse.

So to the ass weed from One News Network, I hope I made your day shitty. I really do. I got a kick out of the stupid look on your face. It was priceless.

Another Night (Aretha Franklin)

A little over a year ago I ended a relationship with someone I was working on building a life with. It ended suddenly, horrifically actually. It’s hard to talk about what happened, because the words even after all this time can barely form. However, it was due in a large part to my former partner being mentally ill.

After living with a mentally ill partner, you look at life very differently. For starters you get sick when people equate mental illness to cancer. People with cancer don’t lie. People with cancer seldom refuse to comply with treatment. You don’t see untreated cancer patients in prison or on the street. Cancer patients don’t self-medicate with drugs and alcohol. There is not a fucking stigma against cancer. 

People know cancer isn’t a choice, but they feel you are making a choice to be mentally ill. And when a celeb who’s spoken about cancer comes on the screen everyone is all misty eyed. When it’s someone who spoke about combating mental illness, ohh look at the crazy bitch or bastard.

If you have ever dealt with someone who’s mentally ill, you know they lie and act out in ways that are insulting, baffling, and outright immature. When things ended, my ex did a lot of that. I told myself he was sick a million times a day. I had to. It kept me from going crazy. It kept me from breaking something. It kept me from being sucked back into his shit which was what he wanted. Eventually I ran out of fucks to give and moved on with myself.

A year later, I was out of my unsafe living situation and away from my unstable former partner. Instead, I found myself marching with STAT, Donald J. Tramp as spokespuppet, heading the largest Anti-Trump protest at the RNC that year. We were number 8 on twitter, trending that day. People asked me if I was scared. I remember thinking, “I had bed bugs eating me alive, couldn’t breathe, and had an unstable Iraq War vet boyfriend looking for Isis in the windows. All and all, this is perhaps the safest situation I have been a part of in a while.”

In 2015, my birthday was spent scheduling free legal help at my local neighborhood legal. It was also picking up the pieces after my ex’s devastating departure. This past year it was spent at Hofstra, protesting/street performing outside the debates with Donald J. Tramp. I didn’t need a party. Being a part of American history was a better present than I could have ever dreamed of.

One year prior to the debates, my ex’s sister had called to threaten me. A year later, I was credentialed press in Las Vegas with puppet journalist Donald J. Tramp. I was in the spin room when Donald Trump uttered “bad hombres” and “nasty, nasty woman.” I watched it all unfold, and for as much as his idiot sister or any other woman he manipulated could and would say, they weren’t there with me. Nor would they ever be.

This time last year, I was rebuilding my life after a devastating defeat. Now I am getting ready to return to Restaurant Row with a one woman show. I just showcased at APAP. I am a correspondent for a blog. I am getting ready to teach a ventriloquism class.

The lessons were hard. One was that love isn’t enough. Love wasn’t enough to make my ex get help. Love wasn’t enough to make my ex stop lying. Love wasn’t enough to justify the fact his rages coupled with black outs were getting worse and worse, and that it was getting to the point where my safety was in jeopardy. In my heart, I know he was kind and giving. I know he would have never intentionally hurt me. But people who are mentally ill flip and kill people all the time, especially if they have mood swings and aren’t medicated. My ex claimed meds failed him and refused a medication regimen.

When my sister got married this summer, her priest alluded to the fact that a married couple lives for each other. The truth is, that’s codependency. You don’t live for anyone. The other person is a part of your life not your whole life. All relationships come to an end whether one partner leaves or dies or whatever. And guess what, you have to move on.

You also realize that a person is just a person. They have their faults. They will fuck up. They will disappoint you. And at the end of the day, good and bad, my ex was just a guy. Yeah, I cried when he left but then they handed me eviction papers. I had to pick my ass up off the ground and go to court to fight my landlord who was turning off my water because I called the city on him. My ex wasn’t there to support me. My family was far away. Really and truly, I was on my own.

No man was there to support me and none was going to materialize. At times like this, you see whether or not you are really and truly a feminist. Most women yell and scream about it, but when the time comes to step up to the plate they don’t. I had to step up to the plate. I had to deal with their demeaning bully boy male lawyers. I didn’t have time to cry.

As I was deciding to get the on with it all, it became easier to get rid of all the shit of his I accumulated. It became easier to block him on social media. It became easier to block his number. It became easier to block his sisters and female friends who are all horrific harpies who enable him. It became easier to date other guys. It became easier to grow into my new life It became easier to be define by my own self-worth, not that of a relationship.

The week my sister got married one of her friends was sad that she was the last one who was single in the group. Feeling the feelings weddings bring up, she asked me if I was upset my sister was getting married and I wasn’t. The answer was a huge NO. I love my brother in law like the baby brother I never had, and think he’s perfect for my sister. But I know how it feels to be with someone who’s toxic and bad for me. I know it’s better to be alone then to be with that, and it’s alright to be alone.

I know a relationship does not define me, and am reminded that good friends are better than a partner any day. I have two wonderful housemates, one obsessed with UFOs and the other a happier Van Gough who are characters that were there for me last year when I had a cancer scare. (Yes, what wasn’t happening). I have an awesome job where I get paid to make people happy, and an even more awesome boss who puts me front and center whenever I can. I have an awesome mentor in Las Vegas, and his people are awesome. I have an awesome friend who’s a mentalist that awesomely predicted the Super Bowl. I have an awesome friend who was my puppet wrangler and has been front and center through all my madness. I have an awesome family.

So this Valentine’s Day, I wont be getting flowers or candy and that’s alright. My life is full of people who love and support me, and someone people don’t even have one person who loves and supports them……and those people are in committed relationships!

Bottom line, if you are in a rough time, you can rock your way out. If the Pats can win the Super Bowl, you can climb out of your pit of despair. And being alone is better than being with someone who’s unhealthy for you. At the end of the day you can have all the love in the world but you really gotta love yourself. Just saying kids. This is as deep as this bitch gets for now. 

Come see The Lady and President Tramp

February 20, 2017 7PM

Dont Tell Mama

343 W. 46 Street

Love Stinks (J. Giles Band)

I haven't put my fingers to the keyboard in a while. Partially because my jet setting has left me too drained to write, although blogs about my jet setting would be more exciting than the crap I am about to spew. It's been a good year. I have met some wonderful people who really believe in me. I know I am blessed, yet at the same time I feel as if a meat cleaver is going to land on my head at any minute.

Two weeks ago I was in West Hollywood in an important office with some people. I was scared. It's kind of funny. A year ago I was dating a psychotic Iraq War Vet and had a landlord who was tormenting me with the legal system. My relationship went south after my ex lied, and then my landlord began hassling me in court every other week. His male lawyers stood too close, and put their hands on my shoulders without my permission. It's a man thing in order to make women feel small. Or rather it's the gateway to rape culture. He's a man, this is his world, now it's time to let you know who's boss, bitch.

These guys weren't successful, as I showed them I wasn't afraid. Needless to say, they weren't prepared for that. Granted, I was in a relationship with a dude who was seeing snipers who weren't there. That's scary. These idiots probably couldn't seal the deal with their wives. I googled the one for fun. He's been married 3 times. He parades his current wife around like a trophy. Please, she's a participation ribbon. A guy I delivered a telegram to three months ago was 50 and had a 25 year old wifie who had jugs out to the wazoo. That's a trophy.

However, these goons were tying me up in court as my landlord was trying to burn my apartment down. Needless to say, I had to move and then there was the cancer scare.....

In between, I had my ex's former girlfriend.....a crackhead who claims to be a drug counselor (while still smoking crack) hassling me online. The breeding lump has 5 kids to 4 different men and is the poster girl for welfare abuse. His psycho sister also stirred the pot. Basically, what wasn't happening to me.

After all this, I was still scared to meet those peeps in LA. Now that's the funniest joke I have ever written. No, the stuff I walked out of was scary. Waking up and seeing your boyfriend taking canned goods out of the cabinets because he believes Isis is coming. That's scary. Not being able to breathe in your apartment. That's scary. The possibility you might have cancer. Really fucking scary. Not a bunch of dudes at a table. Especially men. Not scary.

The older I get the more I believe men could not possibly respect women fully. They will always look at you as a sex object or some form of stupid. Or some form of sex slave. Or a possible substitute for a blow up doll with a pulse. But as an intellectual.....never. This is why we need a woman president.

I also believe men are sex crazed goons who only think with their penis and are never fully capable of loving a woman. Maybe it's because my last relationship was the final nail in the coffin of a heart that was already dead, or maybe because I have stumbled upon the truth. Most people are selfish and are incapable of being true partners. That is yet another reason the divorce rate is so high.

I always knew men were a bunch of selfish cretins, but after the ending of my last relationship I knew it for sure. My ex is a fucking liar and still continues to spread shit about me, none of it which is even remotely true. And then when he left the picture, his idiot friends all tried to slide right into his place. I hate myself.........but not enough to be your whore fuck you very much.

As if that wasn't enough, when any dude I encountered heard about why I ended things he did everything he could to smear my ex and assure me that I was better off with him. Yes, he who was trying to stealth his way into my life. He who was secretly, covertly interviewing for the job opening in between my legs. Yes he who was qualified simply because he had a penis. It was disgusting.

There was a part of me that wanted to strip myself naked, paint "FUCK ME" on my chest, and let them all take a turn just to get them to go away. Not only could they take a turn, but we could all be disappointed at the same time. And I would make them feel as trashy as they made me feel. But then I figured their company already disappointed me, my job was half done. Alas.......

My experience with men has taught me they all hate when you talk about an ex but they can talk about the last place they stuck their dick all they want. There can only be one and it's them. One set of rules for them and another for you, sweetness. They all believe they are sex Gods......to give you a second of satisfaction. They all have a motive and that's to get you in bed and basically ruin your life. They are all self-centered in this motive. They all have larceny in their hearts. ALL. If a dude was honest about this when he met me I would give him a whirl. When I tell the truth I am bitter. Eh, bitter is a buzz word for honest.

Did I mention they all also want to secretly use you to make an old wife/girlfriend jealous and they all LIE!!!!!!!! Oh and in between they are looking for a hooker and a mother in the same body.

Lest we not forget they LOOOOOOOVVVVVVVEEEEE it when a woman gets jealous. And they say they don't care, they just wanna mess around. Yet they become all possessive like a boyfriend and then when you find someone you care about, they become a bigger twat than you could ever be.

I dunno. I worked on an exciting project yesterday. It was awesome. It's for kids and will allow me to do a lot of good in the world. I should be blogging about that but instead had to get this bile out of my system.

My sister also got married and I went to the RNC. I should be blogging about that but the thing about adventures is they leave you tired.

My next blog will be about my adventures.

This blog is about my manhate. God does it feel good to be back, internet.