Showing posts with label Gloria Estefan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gloria Estefan. Show all posts

Friday, December 08, 2017

I Didn't Say It ...

Shep Smith, Fox News, on the Michael Flynn plea agreement:

“The list of people who lied is getting longer and longer. That this is a ruse, that this is fake news—is a lie.”

Even Fox News, well, one person at Fox News, knows _____ is lying.
Billy Bush, in a New York op-ed Times, on _____’s new claim that the Access Hollywood PussyGate tapes aren’t real:

“Of course he said it. And we laughed along, without a single doubt that this was hypothetical hot air from America’s highest-rated bloviator. Along with Donald Trump and me, there were seven other guys present on the bus at the time, and every single one of us assumed we were listening to a crass standup act. He was performing. Surely, we thought, none of this was real. We now know better.”

The Fat Bastard has yet to respond probably because he’s reliving his pussy groping moments.
Dianne Feinstein, on building a case for obstruction of justice against _____:

“I think we see this in the indictments, the four indictments and pleas that have just taken place, and some of the comments that are being made. I see it in the hyper-frenetic attitude of the White House––the comments every day, the continual tweets. And I see it, most importantly, in what happened with the firing of Director Comey and it is my belief that that is directly because he did not agree to lift the cloud of the Russia investigation. That’s obstruction of justice.”

I cannot wait for this long national nightmare to be over.
Resist. Vote Blue.
Gloria Estefan, accepting her Kennedy Center honor, and on how she feels that _____ did not attend:

“People here think you can never lose this, but you can lose this. We all have to stand up for what this country is, for its values. [And] I’m thankful he chose not to come. All it does is overshadow the accomplishments of people who spent a lifetime trying to do something.”

We won’t lose this because we can and will turn this around.
Barack Obama, former, fabulous, president, responding to Akkai Padmashali, a transgender activist who runs the LGBTQ advocacy organization Ondede, who asked how she could make a difference in an anti-transgender world—specifically India’s Section 377, a law criminalizing homosexual acts that was reinstated in 2013:

“I think the answer is, it begins with what you just did, which is to find your voice and be able to articulate your views and your experiences, and tell your story. And that’s true of any group that is marginalized, stigmatized. Finding that voice, and being able to tell a story so that the perceptions somehow that you are different are broken down, because they start seeing their experiences in you. They see your humanity. Once that voice is there, hopefully others join you. So now you have networks, and organizations, and allies. And then, once that happens, it’s a matter of applying political pressure and being able to mobilize public opinion. Now, there is just an open acknowledgement, even among many conservative parties, that we should not be discriminating against persons because of sexual orientation. And that happened, in respect to human history, amazingly quickly. Now, in the span of one person’s lifetime, that can seem painfully long. But it requires a steady education of the public, and then a political strategy that puts pressure on elected officials, and that’s going to take some time.”

I miss him.
Al Franken, Democratic Senator from Minnesota, resigning in the wake of sexual assault allegations from multiple women:

“I am well aware…there is irony that I am leaving while a man who has bragged on tape about assaulting women is in the Oval Office and a man who has repeatedly preyed on young girls is running for Senate with full support of his party.”

I hate to see him go, but you cannot demand that the Fat Bastard be ousted, or Roy Moore not elected, and then let a Democrat slide.
Harassment is harassment is harassment.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

To Sleep Perchance To Dream


Carlos snored again last night.

He put on the Breathe Rite strip, or strapped it on, as he says, and still he snored. Two times I nudged him and told him to turn over. The third time I think I socked him; he only remembers the one time. But the trouble is, when Carlos snores, I have the weirdest dreams. I don't know if it's the snoring, or the fact that my mind knows it isn't going to get much sleep, so it shows me crazy pictures, but that's how it goes.

I dreamed that Jessica Lange was selling her house to me. Only she didn't want to discuss the selling of the house, she wanted to talk about the new diet she was on, and how easy it was and how much weight she'd lost. But she looked chunky to me and I wasn't sure if I should tell her or not.

So I woke up. Nudged Carlos. Drifted off.

I dreamed the Octomom was chasing me. Not that she was trying to get me to take care of her children, or mow the lawn around the shoe in which she lives.....There was an old lady who lived in a shoe and had so many children she didn't know what to do...I think she just wanted to talk and talk. Everywhere I turned there was the Octomom talking to me. Now, truth be told, these days that really isn't a dream, it's more of a reality. Still.

I woke up. Nudged Carlos. Drifted off.

I dreamed we were looking at houses to buy....I guess we weren't that interested in Jessica Lange's after all. Carlos and I are wandering through this condo owned by another gay couple. It was pretty, but all the art on the walls was already ours. They even had a stained glass piece that my dad made for me, but they said they had it commissioned for their house. I showed them my Dad's signature at the bottom....who signs stained glass?....and they still told me it was theirs.

I woke up. Socked Carlos. Drifted off.

So this morning all I could think about was Jessica Lange, the Octomom, and stained glass.

I have always had strange dreams. One, that I had eons ago, and still remember, was about Gloria Estefan. I didn't like Gloria Estefan, or the Miami Sound Machine. I didn't want to Congo, and I seriously hoped the Rhythm Was Gonna Get Her. But then i had a dream that I was a roadie on a Gloria Estefan tour--and this was right around the time of the bus crash that broke her back--and suddenly I loved Gloria Estefan.

And I still do.

Dreams. Go figure.