Untigua

Last week I spent 4 days writing about our trip to Antigua. 

I did that for several reasons. Mostly because by recounting the magical week spent with Ms. Muse on the island with 365 beaches, one for every day of the year, I cemented the moments in my memory bank. When you get to be 65, memories are more valuable than money. 

Except when faced with the prospect of eating vegetable lasagna at the Holiday Villa Home for semi-independent living. In that case it's good to have money and get thee the hell out of there.

I also did it to savor the peace and calm that have washed over my swarthy Mediterranean body that has never been this tan in my entire life. I'm commonly being mistaken for being of Hispanic descent, which is quite flattering in an exotic way. And gives me an opportunity to brush up on my high school Spanish. Which is bastante, at best.

I also spent a week writing about Antigua because as of this writing I am still not back on LinkedIn (see Monday's post), a major source of web traffic. And because body and soul needed a respite from the nonstop political diarrhea springing from the antics of America's least favorite president.

Also, as of this writing, he is now facing three separate indictments, two from Special Counsel Jack Smith and one from NYC DA Alvin Bragg. The total numbers of charges is the high 70's. I believe. With pending superceding charges and daily violations bordering on contempt of court, it's hard to keep count. 

Where's my Trump Commemorative Indictment Abacus?

In between writing these paragraphs, I am constantly refreshing my Twitter (or whatever it's called these days) for any breaking news from Georgia and the silent but steady hand of Fulton County DA Fani Willis. Her indictment is expected to drop any moment. When it does I have the perfect ripe peach just waiting to be devoured. Sloppily. With unbound glee.

As a devotee of his demise, you imagine my Schadenfreude levels are sky high. I might even be so bold as to say they've had a similar corollary effect on my testosterone, but this is a family friendly blog, so I won't.

Why, you may ask. 

Well, for one there's a smoking gun. I'm sure Jack Smith has smoking gun evidence (videotape) and Mark Meadows testimony in the documents case and the J6 Insurrection case, but they are currently under wrap. And have only been seen by his team and the grand juries. In Georgia, the story is different. And so much better.

We all heard him begging like schoolyard bully who didn't get what he wanted. "All I need is for you to find 11,780 votes." 

We all heard him threaten Raffensberger and other state election officials. "The election was rigged and you saw it, Brad. You could be facing criminal behavior for NOT reporting it, Brad."

We all heard his pathetic whining. "Come on guys, gimme a break."

The evidence is irrefutable. You'd have to be a complete numbskull, peckerhead Grand Wizard not to convict him. Of course, we are talking about Georgia, so that's not out of the question.

But the real reason I'm putting my money on Fani -- no offense Jack or Alvin - is that I'd like to see him taken down by a woman. A woman of color, no less. And make no mistake Trump is a racist in every sense of the word.

Moreover, if he goes down in Georgia, he cannot be saved by a federal pardon should a new GOP candidate, or even Trump himself, ascend to the White House.

That's all for today. I have to get back to monitoring the news...