While You Were Away

I was heartened to return from a long weekend trip to find that the legislature hadn't set the state on fire out of spite, but then realized this was merely a literal relief. The figurative situation is predictably stupid.

You may have heard that we have some border issues here in Arizona, and maybe have even heard the howling from many points that the feds need to step in and do something about immigration, illegal and otherwise. The Senate finally acquiesced and lobbed $1.6 million our way, and the state legislature promptly decided that the Arizona county with the longest stretch of actual border with Mexico should get exactly zero of those dollars.


Proximity to Mexico does not count.

In what passes for logic in Russell Pearce's reality, this makes perfect sense. The sheriff of Pima County is a Democrat named Clarence Dupnik, who you may remember as the guy who (accurately) noted in the aftermath of the Giffords shooting that Arizona has become a mecca for bigotry and all-around general fuckery. The only possible response to this for a state whose lawmakers have been complaining about border crime is to limit the disbursement of federal anti-border-crime money to two counties that may not actually be on the border, but that do happen to be headed by Russell Pearce's two favorite skinhead sheriffs, White Power Joe Arpaio and Paul "Just Forget I'm Actually From Massachusetts and Shoot More Video of Me, John McCain, and the Dang Fence" Babeu.

To be fair, Pearce didn't explicitly say only Maricopa and Pinal counties get the cash. He simply made sure the wording in the budget bills was very specific.

A provision buried in one of the 13 budget bills approved late Wednesday spells out that the first $1.6 million of available money go to the sheriff of a county with a population of more than 3 million. That applies only to Maricopa County.

The next $500,000 is earmarked for a sheriff in a county of between 300,000 and 500,000, with only Pinal County meeting that definition. And if there's anything left, it can be allocated to other counties or cities.

But not Pima County: SB 1621 spells out any county with a population between 500,00 and 2 million "shall not receive any monies from the Gang and Immigration Intelligence Team Enforcement mission fund."

Oh, Pima County gets excluded by the =! 500K-2M clause? Who knew?

And the legislature yesterday predictably reintroduced some birther bills. Really, they can't go more than a week without it or they get the shakes bad.

Am I glad to be home? No. No, I am not.

Seattle

It ends and it begins in the coffee shop on Pike Street.

In October I retreated there, seeking refuge from a late night that was pouring cold rain and solace for a heart that was sad from saying goodbye, comfort in the old wood floors and low wood ceiling and creaky wood tables and sturdy wood chairs. Last week I was there again, basking in the warmth from the heater and the cup while watching the drizzle through the windows, waiting this time with my heart pounding anticipating saying hello. We stopped in again before I left for home, this time together.

All things endure.

No. No, No, No.

I cannot think about Arizona any more this week. So instead I will think about something that's been annoying me longer than Jan Brewer has.

That would be those goddamn Charmin bears. You know the ones. The fucking cartoon bears that not only shit in the woods, as bears do, but also seem compelling to have Family Sharing Time afterwards in which they count how many pieces of toilet paper Papa and Junior managed to leave stuck to their asses this time.


This is not okay.

Seriously? Seriously. This is Charmin's major selling point, now that Mr. Whipple has gone on to harangue shopping housewife angels in the big supermarket in the sky. Charmin: Fewer Pieces Will Stick to Your Filthy, Filthy Ass. I have only one question.

Is this really an actual problem in the world? Are there people who dread the daily download because of how many "pieces left behind" they'll have to pick out of their cracks later on, presumably (hopefully?) dessicated and stuck to hairs in horrible ways? Are there people who come out of the bathroom and, like these goddamn bears of Satan, wiggle their asses at their family members in the hopes that it's not quite as bad this time as it has been the last seven thousand trips to the can?


Stop it. Seriously, just fucking stop it.

Fuck.

I have been out of diapers going on 42 years now, and not once--despite a couple of stints in South America, with all the attendant gastric distress and cheapo toilet paper that implies--not once have I wound up with disintegrated tissue stuck to my ass.

And if I did, I sure as fuck wouldn't waggle my ass at my mom.

Have I mentioned that I have a kid? I do. He has been out of diapers for a long time as well. I have never had to have The Talk with him about walking around with pieces of toilet paper stuck to his ass. I have never had to get after him with a broom, for chrissakes, trying to dig fuck-all out of his backside. I have, however, had to sit through more of these fucking commercials with him while innocently trying to watch basketball or the Colbert Report or just about anything else than I can count.


Goddammit. Stop. It. Now.

And because allllllll this just hasn't been enough of an assault on the public, Charmin has launched a website they are fucking calling enjoythego.com, which I steadfastly refuse to look at because if it's any worse than the Skidmarkstain Bears--and you know it has to be--I will be in nightmares and off my feed for a week at best.

Freshmates, anyone? Gaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh.