Chapter 121: COVID Chronicles

August 27, 2020

By Karen

Day 169

Melania’s Got a Fidel Fetish & Tony Takes a Big Leap

I haven’t watched more than a few minutes of the Republican… Festival of Fear? Carnival of Corruption? Extravaganza of Exaggeration? Bacchanal of Bullshit?

I dropped by Tuesday just as Melania confidently stomped into the Rose Garden she’s had stripped of all beauty, maintaining its new color-free theme in her out-of-season khaki long-sleeved tribute to the fashion of Fidel Castro…

Some hapless assistant probably got her head bit off later for forgetting to accessorize Melania with the jaunty little cap and a cigar.

You could feel Melania’s joy overflowing as she read from the teleprompter and showed the nation that in three years at the White House, she’s made no effort whatsoever to improve her English…

Her doting husband Donald sat front and center looking so pleased and proud…

Talk about a steaming shit show.

CALENDAR UPDATE: I learned this morning that the Richmond Animal League is having the calendar contest winners select their months in the order they placed, so Tony as 12th gets whatever month nobody wants. February maybe?

I also learned that the professional photographer who’s coming to the house has had COVID, but she assures us she’s clean now and has immunity for three months.

I think I’m going to need a bigger bottle of bleach.

ANT UPDATE: There hasn’t been one ant on the kitchen counter in nearly a week. Rain soaking the ant killer I sprinkled around the foundation did the trick, for now.

MEDICAL UPDATE: I ventured to the dentist for a cleaning. I had to call them from the parking lot so they could let me in and take my temperature (97.6). Then they did the whole masks, visors, distancing thing. It’s nearly a week later and I’m not sick, so knock on wood.

I felt emboldened to schedule my mammogram due this month. Turns out they’re backlogged and the soonest appointment is in mid-November.

CAT UPDATE: Max is due for a vet checkup, but he doesn’t need shots so we’re skipping it. The vet’s protocol is that I sit in the parking lot while Max goes through whatever on his own. That office staff has never inspired confidence (I could tell stories), so no.

Tony’s not letting his new local celebrikitty status go to his head. Tuesday I was standing at the sunny balcony window checking how my solar-powered watches were charging when Tony decided to get involved. In a first for him — or any cat I’ve lived with — he LEAPED onto my back and hung between my shoulder blades by his right paw.

Thankfully, he let go while I was screaming and trying to figure out how to get him off me. My back on FIRE, I ran downstairs, sure I was leaving a trail of blood. But my T-shirt must have absorbed a lot of claw because my back hardly bled and I’m fine now. And who could stay mad at this face?…

Roc has decided Fuglen the Bird needs to be my constant companion and brings it to me everywhere, even when I’m in the shower. (BTW, Roc left Fuglen on that slipper for two days, and then relocated him to the living room)…

BONUS: Here’s comedian JL Cauvin as Trump (snorting Adderall?) critiquing Melania’s speech…


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