To Dye For


A 65 year old woman had a heart attack and was taken to the hospital.
While on the operating table she had a near death experience.
Seeing God she asked “Is my time up?

God said, “No, you have another 33 years, 2 months and 8 days to live.

Upon recovery, the woman decided to stay in the hospital and have a face-lift, liposuction, breast implants and a tummy tuck.

She even had someone come in and cover her grays and brighten her teeth! Since she had so much more time to live, she figured she might as well make the most of it.

After her last operation, she was released from the hospital.
While crossing the street on her way home, she was struck and killed by an ambulance.
Arriving in front of God, she demanded, “I thought you said I had another 33 years? Why didn’t you pull me from out of the path of that ambulance?
younger hunzu
God replied: “I didn’t recognize you

The lesson here?
Easy…she should have worn her hearing aids!
Save a life…support your local Audiologist

(random images from google search)

Happy Place: Where Nature Dances

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Happy Place.”

I’m happy in a lot of different places, as most people are.  Most especially, the ocean, the mountains, lakeside and a newly discovered dirt road.

What these locations hold in common for me though is simple.

They are Mother Nature’s dance halls.

Nothing makes me happier than when I can catch Mother doing a good old fashioned Boogie Down!

Please enjoy

IMG_2225 IMG_2222 IMG_2218 IMG_2216

Such is... Love in the Afternoon!

Such is…
Love in the Afternoon!

Dining Alone

Dining Alone

Dinner for Two

Dinner for Two

Family's Night Out

Family’s Night Out

Check Please! Whatever their dining pleasure, it’s all part of… “The Dinner Dance”

The proposal

The proposal

In the Swim

In the Swim

Getting comfy

Getting comfy

"Hey you...Do. You. Mind?!" It's Turtle Time

“HEY! Do. You. Mind?!”
It’s Turtle Time

A Zoom with a View

This week’s Cee’s Black and White Photo Challenge (CB&W) topic is Any kind of Camera or Photos of Photographers.

This got me thinking…LONDON


I mean, if I have any photographs of photographers taking photographs it would be in my photographs of photographing London (phew)

So…on a mission, I went through my London photogr…oh nevermind.  I went through my pictures and found exactly 2…TWO with people popping pictures

Okay.  Well, then I thought, hell…I know that everyone everywhere on every High Street corner over there, is being photoged by someone somewhere, so I looked for the eyes in the sky rather than the lens on the land and what do you think I found?

Yup…Big Brother!

So…for this challenge, I challenge you to find the spying eyes on the Highs (streets, that is) in these chock full o’ stuff pictures

Once I found one, I couldn’t stop!!  I couldn’t have kept going (there are 1200 of them, yikes) until the evereadies died, but I controlled myself

Anyway…besides giving me a whole new way to look at my Zoom with a View, I got some good practice taking them from color to black and white.  I don’t have any special photo editing software, so I just play around with what’s available on my computer.  Still, it’s a practice I shall endeavor to get better at, but in the meantime, please enjoy my entry and thanks for lookin’  (you will of course need to click on each photo to get full size…it may help)


Can ya see it? This one ‘blends’


In the financial district…naturally


This is the top of the Southwark Cathedral…where SHAKESPEARE is buried! Think they are spying to see if he’s writing again? Can ya see it?


Absolutely need to spy on people’s comings and goings into and outta the pub. Right?


The epitome of Eye in the Sky. See it? Talk about a Crow’s Nest!


Captured from the top of the bus (man, what fun those buses are!)…cameras are like birds on a wire!


This one isn’t shy…front and center and proud it! I figured I’d give ya an easy one

I’m having fun following my newest and most wonderful blogging friend – MLou’s Photography Blog – and for a bit of Tuesday fun, I’ve seen that she enjoys posting in what is called “Tuesdays of Texture” as hosted by Narami at De Monte Y Mar

I wanted to join in on this one as it gives us a chance to look at photos from a different perspective…how they feel vs how they look.  I dig it!

Here are some of mine, but I tell ya, it was hard to choose becasue there are…

So Many Textures – So Little Time!

please, feel free to click on the gallery for full size images  :)

Can ya feel it?

Peanutize Yourself


This was a good way to start the day…something fun!
Here’s my version and if you have to ask…I’m Lucy’s Grandmother. Where do you think she learned her evil ways? LOL

peanuts wallpaper

Originally posted on Cee's Photography:

Hi, Chris here.  I haven’t written for a while, but I found something that is just plain fun and had to share it with you.  To promote the new Peanuts movie that is coming out, they’ve set up a site where you can create yourself as a Peanuts character.  What would you look like if you were a BFF with Charlie Brown, Lucy , Linus, Peppermint Patty and the rest of the gang?  Here is what I think I’d look like: a red-headed tomboy in mismatched clothes with a big grin.

screenshot_470 If you would like to create your own character, go to PeanutizeMe and have fun being a child again.

For all of you who didn’t grow up in the US, I apologize if you don’t know what I’m talking about.  I don’t know how widely traveled Charles Schulz’s Peanuts comic strip is, but I suspect it’s quite well known around…

View original 28 more words

This starts very quietly, so don’t think there is no sound.

Seventeen year old Joe Bush got a high school assignment to make a
Video reproduction. He chose history as a theme and tucked it all into two minutes.

Joe took pictures from the internet; added the sound track “Mind Heist”
By Zack Hemsey (from the movie Interception) and came up with this.
Incredible work for a 17-year old. Just finding the pictures was a
formidable task.

Bush’s video, titled “Our Story In 2 Minutes,” was made for a unique class at Stillwater Area High School in Stillwater, Minnesota. Known as Cutaway Productions, the class gives high school students a chance to run a video production company, making public service videos, music videos, advertisements and more.

All I can say is…WOW!

One Incredible Teen – 2 Incredible Minutes

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Boundaries.”

We must teach them to children...for their own good

We must teach them to children…for their own good

We must take care with those that cross ours...

We must take care with those that we allow to cross ours…

Respect them in others...for their sake as well as ours (there is a glass boundary here you can bet your life!)

Respect them in others…for their sake as well as ours (there is a glass boundary here you can bet your life!)

Some come and go with the tide...

Some come and go with the tide…

Some are forever

Some are forever

Whether man made...

Whether man made…

Or by design...

Or by design…

We need them...If only to cross them

We need them…If only to cross them

So…set your boundaries well

Respect other’s boundaries as well

But NEVER let another’s define yours!


Smokin’ in the Rain

smoking in the rain

Jane and Arlene are outside their nursing home, having a drink and a smoke, when it starts to rain.

Jane pulls out a condom, cuts off the end, puts it over her cigarette, and continues smoking.

Arlene:- What in the hell is that?

Jane:- A condom. This way my cigarette doesn’t get wet.

Arlene-: Where did you get it?…

Jane:- You can get them at any pharmacy.

The next day, Arlene hobbles herself into the local pharmacy and
announces to the pharmacist that she wants a box of condoms.

The pharmacist, obviously embarrassed, looks at her kind of strangely
(she is, after all, over 80 years of age), but very delicately asks what
size, texture, brand of condom she prefers.

‘Doesn’t matter Sonny, as long as it fits on a Camel.’

The pharmacist fainted.


Starring Tony, Guido, and Da Boid…

"Hey Guido" "Yeah Tony?" "Com 'ere" "Oh, sure ting Tone"

“Hey Guido”
“Yeah Tony?”
“Com ‘ere”
“Oh, sure ting Tone”

"Listen see dat boid over there on da roof yeah?  So, you sit right 'ere and watch dood.  Dis gonna be good" "Oh yeah sure ting Tone.  I sees 'im and I'll watch good.  Hey Tone?  Watcha gonna do Tone?" "Never youz mind.  Jes watch like I says.  Got it?"

“Listen up…you see dat boid over there on da roof yeah? So, you sit right here and watch me good.  Dis gonna be good”
“Oh yeah sure ting Tone. I sees ‘im and I’ll watch good. Hey Tone? Watcha gonna do Tone?”
“Never youz mind. Jes watch like I says. Got it?”

“Hey Tone. Tone…over here Tone. I see ya on da roof. I’m watching. Jes like you said!”

"I see ya Tone!  Hey Tone, can ya hear me?  I sees ya there on da roof Tone." [JeZus, don't he ever shadup?"]

[JeZus, don’t he ever shadup?”]


[Da Boid thinks…WTF?]

"Guido!  Shhhhhhhh, jes watch I said.  Ima gonna scare da shit outta dis boid."

“Guido! Shhhhhhhh, jes watch I said. Ima gonna scare da shit outta dis boid.”

'Uh, hey.  You. Ugly-face.  You DO know I'm still alive right?  I thought all you goombas only ate dead meat.  I ain't dead.  Ya fuckin' meatball."

‘Uh, hey. Ugly-face. You know I can hear you right?  You DO know I’m still alive right? I thought all you goombas only ate dead meat. I ain’t dead. Ya freakin’ meatball.”

"What a dummy.  Thick necked, thick headed GOOMBA.  Hahaha"

[What a dummy. Thick necked, thick headed GOOMBA. Hahaha.  Thinks he can scare me?]

"Dat Tone, he's such a funny guy!"

“Dat Tone, he’s such a funny guy!”

{Tone..whistlin} {Da Boid...WTF}

{Da Boid thinking…WTF?}

"Watzamatta Boid?  Ya nervous?"

“Watzamatta Boid? Ya nervous?”

"Whatever Man...I ain't scared of you, I just ain't into your goomba games."

“Whatever Man…I ain’t scared of you, I just ain’t into your goomba games.”

"NO...I ain't scared.  That's just the wind rufflin' my feathers ya putz.  But I got other stuff to do...I'm outta here.  Go pick a scab or something ya thug!"

“NO…I ain’t scared. That’s just the wind rufflin’ my feathers ya putz. But I got other stuff to do…I’m outta here. Go pick a scab or something ya thug!”

"Hehe...not scared he says.  Hey, Guido!  D'ya see da boid no more?

“Hehe…not scared he says. Hey, Guido! D’ya see da boid no more?

"Hey Guido.  What I tell ya?  I told ya I waz gonna scare the shit outta dat boid!  See it?"

“Hey Guido. What I tell ya? I told ya I waz gonna scare the shit outta dat boid! See it?”

"Bwaaahaaa.  Ya sure did Tone, ya sure did!  Bwaahaaa, scared the crap right outta dat boid!"

“Bwaaahaaa. Ya sure did Tone, ya sure did! Bwaahaaa, scared the crap right outta dat boid!”

'See ya'z later Guido.  Ima go see if ol' scarity boid tastes as good as he lies!!!  Maybe I'll save ya some.  Bwaahaaa!"'

‘See ya’z later Guido. Ima go see if ol’ scarity boid tastes as good as he lies!!! Maybe I’ll save ya some. Bwaahaaa!”‘


“Hey Tone. Hey Tone, wait. Ima come too. Wait for meeeeee!”

Tale of Two Birdies

Brother can you spare some CHANGE?

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Change.”


What easier way to showcase change than with the seasons. I’ve been known to take a thousand shots of a single mountain because each shot offers something different. Whether it’s the cloud formations that waft over the top, promising changes to come, or the way the sun strikes it on a sunny day vs. the rays that struggle through to kiss the peak on a cloudier one…IMG_0747One of my favorite changes is the coat of brilliant color that adorns it today when, just yesterday, that coat was green and brown…Jay in the distance

And tomorrow, it’ll be gray as ash, soon to be white as snow…snow cappedThe once empty horizon now filled with the winds of change in the form of wind powered turbines.  All in the name of progress and, for some, the sacrifice of beauty…a change some do not like.IMG_0039
But…there’s more to change than the obvious.  Some is predictable, some inevitable, some wanted, some not.
But it’s always coming. We all know this to be true.
Below, a slideshow with photos and thoughts on what I think about change.
I’m not afraid of it.
But like it or not…it’s coming.
So I’ll celebrate it here.

Please enjoy and thanks.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Size Matters ~ It’s a Matter of Size

 – SIZE MATTERS                                 IS IT A MATTER OF SIZE? – 

A recent dream discussion led me down this path

I have this dream discussion often

The caricatures characters change

Then again, they really don’t

They are always me, myself, and I female

There are always wailing tears

When I met the man I was to marry – I was in my prime at a svelte size 12

(He rocked a 30″ waist with a rock hard shame on you chest and bulging      stop it arms)

When we married – I was an even svelter size 10

(He maintained his inches in all respects)

When we accidentally made the decision to get pregnant – I rocketed to a “Dayum! Do they even make clothes that big?” size Who Gives a Shit, I’m Pregnant

(Again, he maintained his inches and bulged in all the right places :shock: )

Post first born and Pre second born – I regained my pre-marriage svelteness at size 12 with only a slight shift in distribution

(Somewhere around here, he upsized to 32″ despite developing noassatol syndrome)

Post second born – Let’s just say, svelte was forever in the rearview.  I was proud to have achieved a 14 with zero qualms of how I looked cuzzzzzzzz I looked good and behaved like I believed it!

(This is 6 years in and he’s effortlessly sporting that 32″)

[These were the days of meeting him at the door in one of his t-shirts that went ‘just’ down to there, or one of his dress shirts buttoned ‘just’ up to there.  Ya know?]

Now…fast forward 25 years, 7 states, 16 or more, I’m too tired to count addresses, later – I’m coming in at a fluffier size 18 to his 34″ and questioning a severely intimacy challenged marriage of 30 years

A challenge to my desirability and to his commitment

A challenge we both decided we didn’t want to engage in anymore

A challenge we both walked away from; me leaving, him allowing me to

A challenge that was one stroke of the pen away from no longer being a challenge but a divorce

We each fought our demons

We each made the decision to try again

We each found our way back to the love that was always there but had been taken for granted

We each found our way back to loving each other in all ways and knowing we’d made the right decision

And. It. Was. Good.

Even though were I to have met him at the door in one of his t-shirts then, he’d have asked when I’d bought a new sports bra…we’d have laughed because

We. Were. Good.

Fast forward again…three years later, to the here and now the last place I want to or thought I’d be, again

This time in our lives when we’ve made big decisions to show each other that WE are what’s important

Decisions that took us off one road and put our feet on another, for all the right reasons or so I thought

Decisions that I see now, perhaps only delayed the inevitable

It hurts worse now…after the trying and the changes

It hurts worse now because what is there left to do besides try to become something I’m not, thin, but even if I was or could be again, I’d never trust him for loving that me and not this me

It hurts worse now because there is nothing in the way; nothing to blame…

But myself for becoming something he didn’t bargain for

The honest truth is…it’s harder to live with the fact that he says he loves you, shows you he does in lots of little ways, but can’t in the way he would if you were even close to who or what you used to be, or at least, not what you are today, which is a hefty bag size 20 who’s food intake is far less than the average 10 year old

It’s harder to live with knowing you’re loved so much that he can’t imagine living without you, yet can’t show you that he knows and sees you are still the woman he married somewhere in there under all that life the way you can see him as the man you married under the gray hair, age spots, saggy butt, and not too bulging arms because…

the outside only drew you in…it was the inside that knocked you out

I know we are no longer teenagers

I also know, this is the time we were both working toward and looking forward to

We grow in our lives and in our love

We change our minds and change our outlooks

We transcend some things and put up with others

We shouldn’t have unrealistic expectations

But we shouldn’t settle for less than we deserve need either

So…I find myself at a crossroad once again

I’ve found this way of living and loving leaves me feeling at a loss lost

Self Esteem – Self-esteem is what we think and feel and believe about ourselves

Self Worth – Self-worth is recognizing “I am greater than all of those things”

What does this mean to me?

Well…there’s no question that my self esteem has taken a huge hit through all of this.  As the esteem comes from those things that make us feel good about ourselves

Nothing about the last year adds shit to mine

So…that leaves my feelings of self worth

Self worth is a deep knowing of your worth.  An honest belief that you are valuable, worth loving, and necessary

This has very little, if anything, to do with your self esteem

Surprising to me, is that I KNOW my worth.  Through it all, for the first time ever maybe, I KNOW my self worth

I know I’m valuable – I know I’m lovable – I know I’m necessary

Which leaves me with this…I know I’m worthy of complete love, so why am I accepting less?

Is it really such a bad thing that I have all but become a hermit…not leaving the house unless I absolutely have to, because if someone who LOVES me sees me this way, how the hell does the rest of the world see me?

Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things that the best I can hope for is an “I love you” as he rolls over to go to sleep?

Am I over reacting when he reaches to hold my hand and I pull it away because my thoughts immediately go to “I don’t want to give you the impression that I’ll settle for that” so I’ll give you nothing instead?

The worst part is…

I love kissing hello and kissing goodbye

I have always loved walking hand in hand, knowing the hand I’m holding wants to hold mine and let the world know I’m his and he’s mine

But I find I no longer want to be offered those things, as I see them as a consollation prize to the big show

The worst part is…how fucked up is that?

The worst part is…I deny the simple things I truly love because I can’t have it all.

AND it confuses me

Am I crazy?

Am I, at 54, supposed to let all of that go?

Did I go through Menopause for this?

Should I be telling myself that all people our age are giving it up without a fight?

Should I be content with what I have and piss off what I don’t?  There’s nothing wrong with companionship if companionship is what you want.

Even though I take the blame because I’m not a size 10 or 12 anymore?

I don’t know

I. Just. Don’t. Know.

Sorry…this was a shit filled ass post

An exercise in self pity if there ever was one and yes, it’s disgusting

I didn’t have to write this here, but it’s my page so I did

I just want to know…why can’t I let it go?

I want to let it go

I want to

I want

Shit…how selfish is that?

No Comments Needed…I’ll figure it out.


North and South

Growing up in the far northern climes of Vermont, summer could be summed up in one word, which, oddly enough, is the same word attributed to its winters, only for different reasons.


There is only one question to ask when living with and through a northern winter…”When will it end???”

No one I’ve ever known would dare ask that same question from the 4th of July through Labor Day, which in the best of years, is a Long Vermont summer.

A better question for summer is “When will it begin????”

But the Longer that lives in the northern summertime, isn’t for how many months, or weeks, or days, it lasts…it is for those Longer days, Longer bike rides, and Longer games in one backyard or another.  Longer moments of peace among the winter weary, battle fatigued, cohabitants that are brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers.  Longer trips looking for warmer weather, with Longer hellos, and even Longer goodbyes.

Summer is a Long way from Long in the north.

At the same time, there is also only one question I know to ask as a northerner living with and through, a southern summer… “When will it end???”

My slow melt begins in April, with signs of ripples in May.  Then I start to bubble in June, and by July, I’m roiling out of the proverbial ‘melted pot’.  By August, when coincidentally enough, the homicide rate begins to increase, I’m ready, willing, and able to add to the statistic of “Heat induced insanity killings”

It’s only the 9th of July here in Virginia and I’m ready for it to end.  I’m Longing for cool days and cold nights.  I want to put on a hoodie and go out by the campfire, watch the lightning bugs, and gaze at the stars in the crystal clear, cold cleansed sky.

I’m tired of the inside of my house.  I’m heart-sick at the number of times I say no to ‘Grammy, can we go out so I can run through the sprinklers?” because that would mean I’d have to go O U T there to supervise.

I’m disgusted that the longest walk I take all day is from the front door to the mailbox and even then, if I knew someone else I could ask to do it for me, I’d PAY them to do it!

I am glared at by my four legged pal who wants nothing more than to run around the yard, chasing something…anything…as long as she can runl.  NO, No, and no, because that means I’d have to go O U T there and participate!  Ugh

I Long for shorter days.

I Long for cloudy or rainy days.

I Long for someone to pick up on the fact that I wear a “Let It Snow” night shirt EVERY night hoping it’ll happen.

If you haven’t noticed…I hate the heat.  But even if I didn’t…I’d hate T H I S heat!

When. Will. It. End?

Semper Fi


The flag’s on the table, folded precise and exact

Waiting for the moment white gloved hands would extract

Its full measure and meaning as they unfurl with great care

This symbol of freedom, for which eagle’s dare

Open in its glory while Taps haunts the grounds

Open still as the guns salute with rounds

IMG_3169They stood in the distance, these old volunteers

Aged eyes strain to see what old ears can not hear

The sign that it’s time to raise, aim, and fire

The salute to the memory of this beloved spouse and sire

The brass hits the grass as our tears hit our chests

While the tear stains remain, the brass is picked up in respect


Off to their left, in Marine dress so smart

A man and his bugle also awaits his start

To show his respect for a brother he’d not met

To guide him to rest on his longest journey yet

Silently white gloves refold the old girl

But from this moment on, no more to unfurl

Turning on a dime, pacing five steps

Eyes ever forward, toward her he crept

He kneels and hands over this flag and this brass

As he speaks to her quietly, his face sheds the mask

I can see the sincerity, respect, and sadness

For this brother sight unseen but remembered none the less


Semper Fidelis he spoke when rising

Semper Fidelis I whispered, not surprising

To the man, marine, husband, and my only father

Semper Fi, Always Faithful….I’ll live it.  Love, your daughter

…but on the bright side

So much time is spent negatively talking about, writing about, thinking about, debating about, and snarking about, our country in the last several years, that many folks forget what it feels like to be proud of who we are, where we live, who we cry for, and what we die for. Perhaps forgotten too, that the generations before us fought and died, lived and dreamed, for the same things we are fighting, dying, living, and dreaming for today.  And the generations after us will do the same.

I, for one, am taking a moment to remember that we do have a brighter side.

For this one moment, as bittersweet tears softly track the history of my life in the wrinkles on my face, I’ll remember how they got there.  This facial road map of my life’s joys and sorrows distinguish me from anyone else, just as our country’s road map is like no other.  And as I look at her wrinkles, I’ll remember how they got there too.

I love my country, wrinkles and all, and invite anyone needing a reminder of what that feels like, to read about and listen to others who felt the same.

The history of a special song, written for a special place, sung by a special woman, needed by a hurting people…

Frank Sinatra considered Kate Smith the best singer of her time, and said that when he and a million other guys first heard her sing “God Bless America” on the radio, they all pretended to have dust in their eyes as they wiped away a tear or two.

Here are the facts… At the bottom of this post, you’ll see the link to the video showing the very first public singing of “GOD BLESS AMERICA“. But before you watch it, you should also know the story behind the first public showing of the song.

The time was 1940. America was still in a terrible economic depression. Hitler was taking over Europe and Americans were afraid we’d have to go to war. It was a time of hardship and worry for most Americans.

This was the era just before TV, when radio shows were HUGE, and American families sat around their radios in the evenings, listening to their favorite entertainers, and no entertainer of that era was bigger than Kate Smith.

Kate was also large; plus size, as we now say, and the popular phrase still used today is in deference to her, “It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.” Kate Smith might not have made it big in the age of TV, but with her voice coming over the radio, she was the biggest star of her time.

Kate was also patriotic. It hurt her to see Americans so depressed and afraid of what the next day would bring . She had hope for America, and faith in her fellow Americans. She wanted to do something to cheer them up, so she went to the famous American song-writer, Irving Berlin (who also wrote “White Christmas”) and asked him to write a song that would make Americans feel good again about their country. When she described what she was looking for, he said he had just the song for her.

He went to his files and found a song that he had written, but never published, 22 years before – way back in 1917. He gave it to her and she worked on it with her studio orchestra. She and Irving Berlin were not sure how the song would be received by the public, but both agreed they would not take any profits from God Bless America. Any profits would go to the Boy Scouts of America. Over the years, the Boy Scouts have received millions of dollars in royalties from this song.

This video starts out with the news, then Kate Smith coming into the radio studio with the orchestra and an audience. She introduces the new song for the very first time, and starts singing. After the first couple verses, with her voice in the background still singing, scenes are shown from the 1940 movie, “You’re In The Army Now.” At the 4:20 mark of the video you see a young actor in the movie, sitting in an office, reading a paper; it’s Ronald Reagan, the future 40th president of the United States, and at 69, the oldest president ever elected.

To this day, God Bless America stirs our patriotic feelings and pride in our country. Back in 1940, when Kate Smith went looking for a song to raise the spirits of her fellow Americans, I doubt whether she realized just how successful the results would be for her fellow Americans during those years of hardship and worry… and for many generations of Americans to follow.

Now that you know the story of the song, I hope you’ll enjoy it and treasure it even more. Many people don’t know there’s a lead in to the song since it usually starts with “God Bless America …” So here’s the entire song as originally sung… ENJOY!

Today, I exercise my right to remove the flag from underneath the flag-stomper du jour and wave it proudly in the air.

God Bless America…and all who stomp on her.

On The Duggars


I could not agree more with this if I’d written it myself. Thank you Witch for the much needed slap in the face wake-up to anyone still listening to these ridiculous justifications for Duggar’s actions!

Originally posted on What a Witch:

Sexual Abuse Silence

I don’t want to talk about the parents.

I don’t want to talk about how they raised their children in a cult.

I don’t want to talk about Josh Duggar.

He’s a child molester.

I don’t want to talk about his “reform.”

Josh and his parents insist that he is no longer a danger, but Josh and his parents are also the people who hid his sexual assault.

So maybe their word is not so valuable.

Oh wait, I’m sorry, I misspoke. (mistyped?)

Their word means less than nothing and I would be perfectly happy if they would shut the fuck up.

I don’t want to talk about the family’s connection with Hobby Lobby.

I don’t want to talk about the fact that the place that Josh was sent to for “counseling,” the place wherein the family claims that Josh underwent his “reform” was run by a man who is…

View original 459 more words