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Author Archives: etomczyk

About etomczyk

I am a storyteller who blogs about the absurdities of life, especially as seen through the eyes of a baby-boomer, African-American humorist (think Bridget Jones marries Chris Rock and they produce a baby called Whoopi Goldberg). www.howthehelldidienduphere.wordpress.com

TRUMP AND HIS CHRISTIAN FOOLS

Do you know what I discovered this week?  There are moles in the White House who are leaking pertinent information.  I know because they contacted me.  No, that’s not entirely accurate.  The White House moles contacted the Tomczyk moles who live in my lawn (of which there are scores), and gave them the straight poop on all the crazy shenanigans that #45 has been up to.  They say this president is going down! These moles can hear everything, because they are everywhere under the White House grounds, and they assured my mole peeps that Trump did “tape” Comey on several occasions. How’s that for a “deep state” scoop? Fox News thinks that Obama government hold-overs are the leakers in the White House, but it is actually insectivores.

TRUMP COMEY DINNER John Darkow Columbia Daily Tribune Missouri

Cartoon used by permission: John Darkow, Columbia Daily-Tribune, Missouri

The White House moles are true patriots and are Trump supporters (they tend to support whichever president occupies the White House), but they have become very concerned at the volatility of this particular president and the damage he is causing our democracy.  Several of the moles keeled over and fainted dead away when they heard him leak secret information to our enemies the Russians that had been told to our CIA in confidence by the Israelis.  (First of all, the White House Moles couldn’t believe that the Russians were invited into the Oval.  There are a large group of moles that have served under several presidents, and they had never, ever seen such egregious flaunting of security and boastful mishandling of top secret information.)

Trump spills the Beans Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, Politicalcartoons.com

Then there was the pulling together of that bogus letter to fire Comey.  The White House moles heard it all!  Things whispered in the dark and secretly taped… They weren’t fans of Comey’s, but they had heard the inside scoop between #45 and his body guard who later delivered the pink slip to the FBI.  When the news broke about Comey, the White House moles were deeply concerned, but when the White House spokespeople blatantly lied about why Comey was fired, the moles wondered whether they should speak up.

Muzzling Comey Marian Kamensky Austria

Cartoon used by permission: Marian Kamensky, Austria

Then the White House moles overheard a private conversation in the Oval between Trump and one of his loyal Evangelical supporters that greatly alarmed them.  The Evangelist was pledging his undying loyalty to Trump along with all his followers, and encouraging Trump to fight on—to never give up—because God was on his side.  The Evangelist said that any and all critics were the Anti-Christ and Trump was to ignore them.

The moles determined that a message needed to be leaked on social media to warn the country about what was going on in the White House and the crazed, religious bent of many of #45’s supporters, so they chose “Eleanor the Blogger” because of her long-standing, on-again-off-again relationship with the Virginia moles and the fact that she used to be one of those goose-stepping Christians (horrors!) to sound the alarm.  She wasn’t necessarily a fan of moles, but they knew her to be fair.  Below is what transpired.

***

This morning, when I went out to pick up the morning newspaper, I noticed a giant pile of leaves and debris on my front lawn.  “Goddamnit,” I said to myself.  “Those moles have been up to it again!”  When I began to stomp down on their tunnel, I noticed that a grungy manila envelope (marked:  From the White House Moles) lay just beneath the surface.  Upon opening the envelope, I found an old-fashioned tape recording and the picture of the Evangelist Jim Bakker—looking like Gollum with a white beard and a cross on a blue cap.  (Remember him of the Jim and Tammy Show [she with the runny mascara from crying all the time], and [he the convicted felon accused of raping a woman, paying her hush money, and misappropriating funds from his Christian village/theme park])?  He was convicted for 45 years and sent to prison, but got out after five years on a technicality.  At first he appeared to be a humbled and changed man.  Even wrote a book about how he was wrong about shaking down gullible people for his self-centered, greedy purposes.  But given what I heard from the tape delivered by the moles, he’s back and worse than ever.   Below is a transcript of the tape between Jim Bakker and President Trump that was delivered to my lawn by the White House Moles.

Jim BAKKER

Jim Bakker, convicted felon/evangelist/doomsday huckster

TRUMP:  Welcome, oh squirrely one.  Who are you that dares enter my presence unannounced?

BAKKER:  It’s me, your Royalness.  One of your poorly educated that you said you loved so much on the campaign trail.  I hail from Branson, Missouri.

TRUMP:  Oh, yeah!  Are you one of my Christians or one of my Heathens?

BAKKER:  Your Highness, I’m one of your best Bible-believing Christians.  In fact that is why I’m here.  God sent me here to tell you not to get discouraged.  You won this election because of all the good Christians who prayed and fasted for you, and then voted for you in droves.  God heard our prayers and put you in office.  If Hillary had won, God told me that it would mean He was judging the world for immature leadership.  In fact, I came here to specifically tell you that you should pay no never mind to your critics.  They are just haters from Hell.  *It seems like there is a hatred among peoples and this is satanic. This (hatred) is the White Horse of the Apocalypse. The White Horse of the Apocalypse is the first horse. It’s a horse of speech. It’s a horse of spirit. And the spirit of Antichrist is out now. This is what you’re seeing. You want to know what the Antichrist spirit looks like. That’s what’s going on in America. These people mocking the president. The words they use. The speech they use. That’s the spirit of Antichrist. That’s the spirit of hatred.*

TRUMP:  Oooooh, I knew my haters were bad.  Agents of the Devil, you say?  Part of the Apocalypse?  Epic!  God’s on my side?  Wait. I thought I was God.  Are you betraying me, my little uneducated one?

BAKKER:  Oh, no Master.  You are the one who will usher in the return of Jesus.  No matter who criticizes you, the Christians who voted for you will never, ever believe their lies.  We will never turn against you! We will fight for you until the end.

Poorly Educated Arts and politics from the armpit of America

TRUMP:  Can you believe how they treat me?  **No politician in history, and I say this with great surety, has been treated worse or more unfairly. * And did you hear that a special prosecutor has been appointed to mess with me?  They didn’t even consult me—they just up and did it.  Announced it to me thirty minutes before announcing it to the world. ***With all of the illegal acts that took place in the Clinton campaign & Obama Administration, there was never a special councel [sic] appointed! This is the single greatest witch hunt of a politician in American history!”*** This is America.  I should be able to do what I want—meet with the Russians, fire somebody, and grab women by their va-jay-jays.  I’m the President!

President Cartman RJ Matson Roll Call

Cartoon used by permission: RJ Matson, Roll Call

BAKKER:  Yes, your Holiness?

TRUMP:  So what do you do for a living, my loyal subject?

BAKKER:  I’m a leader in the “Prepper Movement.”  You remember, I sent you all my pamphlets.  I help the right kind of Christians (ones that think like me) prepare for the Apocalypse.  I have a show on TV (via DirecTV, Roku, Apple TV), and I sell food and goods for the End Times.  The end is fast approaching, my King.  You’ve got your tsunamis, your earthquakes, your financial meltdowns, your Zika virus, and most of all, you’ve got your ISIS and your homosexuals—all point to the End Times.  Obama was the Anti-Christ, as you know.  But don’t you be afraid because you’ll be saved in the Rapture, and you’ve been made President of the United States to hold back God’s wrath for a few years.  That’s where I come in.  It will be seven years of turmoil and then Jesus will take all the real Christians—including you, Oh Anointed One—right up to Heaven.  But you’ve got to stay alive until then.  That’s where I come in.   I sell enough goods through my TV show to keep you hanging out in your bunker until Jesus returns to rescue us.  (This is why Global Warming is a crock of shit—no need to worry about the Earth because Jesus is going to destroy it in seven years anyway, after we’re gone.)

Anyway, to keep you staying alive, I’ll sell you 14 totes full of black bean burger mix for $3,000; what I call Bakker’s Dozen Extreme Canteen Kit, including 13 packs of ponchos, thermal blankets, glow stick and whistles for $500; and my Survival Food Brick Monthly Club with 90 servings of food for $50 per month.  I’ll also sell you a solar-powered, “fuel-less” generator for $1,784, and a variety of mid-tech water bottles and hand-cranked ham radios for extra security.

Jim Bakker Survivalist Food

Snapshot of Jim Bakker’s Prepper Food++

TRUMP:  I only eat McDonald’s burgers, fries and Kentucky Fried chicken.  Got any of that freeze-dried in your seven year plan?

BAKKER:  No.  But you’ll love what we do have.  As you so famously say, “believe me!”  It is sooooooooo good!++  My advertising slogan is: “Imagine — the world is dying and you’re having a breakfast for kings!”

TRUMP:  Excellent!  As I’ve always said, the beauty of me is that I’m very rich, so I can afford your end-timey food.  By the way, how much for the snake oil?

***

INSPIRATIONAL “SELAH” (“AHA” MOMENT) ON “CHRISTIANS FOR TRUMP”

I am discovering that you can’t make this shit up.  There are no such things as undercover garden moles leaking me White House secrets, but there is a mad king in the White House and nutty Evangelicals supporting Trump’s every move.  In fact, they, along with their science-fiction fears, helped him gain the White House. The exact quotes of Trump and Bakker have been indicated by asterisks in my blog, and are tagged into the source material under “references” below.   One of the reasons the supporters of Trump will never believe the truth or stop following him (no matter how terrible he becomes) is because, for many of them, voting for him was a holy cause, and to admit that this president is the worst leader we’ve had since Andrew Johnson means that they were wrong, wrong, wrong in voting for him, and it would shake the very core of their faith in God and their literal interpretation of the Bible.  It would destroy them to the core.

++JUICY TIDBIT:  EVANGELIST’S JIM BAKKER’S FOOD WAS REVIEWED BY CASEY CHAN OF SPLOID AND CHEF GREG LAURO FROM BROOKLYN, NY WHICH CHEF LAURO PURCHASED AND PREPARED: “The food—which basically only requires the addition of hot water to cook—ends up being like beige slop and red vomit and liquid sludge. (Chef Greg) Lauro described the taste as ‘paper mache’ and ‘a bathroom at a bar at the end of the night in a college town’and ‘one of the worst things I’ve ever eaten in my life’ to describe the taste and smell of the food.”

***

LATEST BOOK BY AUTHOR:  The Fetus Chronicles: Podcasts from My Miseducated Self

AVAILABLE ON AMAZON NOW!

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Witch Hunt David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

REFERENCES

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/15/opinion/trump-classified-data.html?action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=opinion-c-col-right-region&region=opinion-c-col-right-region&WT.nav=opinion-c-col-right-region

*http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/jim-bakker-antichrist_us_59195cfbe4b0031e737ebff7

http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2017/05/16/trump-officials-on-comey-memo-dont-see-how-trump-isnt-completely-fcked

*http://www.newsweek.com/2016/04/08/televangelist-jim-bakker-back-440991.html

++http://www.npr.org/sections/thesalt/2015/12/03/456677535/apocalypse-chow-we-tried-televangelist-jim-bakkers-survival-food

*http://www.patheos.com/blogs/friendlyatheist/2017/01/25/televangelist-jim-bakker-donald-trumps-critics-even-the-republicans-look-demon-possessed/

***https://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/plum-line/wp/2017/05/18/trump-is-totally-delusional-about-whats-happening-to-him-right-now/?hpid=hp_no-name_opinion-card-b%3Ahomepage%2Fstory

**https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2017/live-updates/trump-white-house/trump-comey-and-russia-how-key-washington-players-are-reacting/trump-says-no-president-has-been-treated-more-unfairly/

 
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Posted by on May 18, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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MOTHER’S DAY: “OY TO THE VEY!”

(RETOOLED FROM A MOTHER’S DAY POST PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR IN 2013, PREVIOUSLY ENTITLED: “MY CRAZY-ASS MOTHER”)

Do you know what I’ve discovered?   I could really do without Mother’s Day.  In fact, I pretty much hate the celebration.  It is not my fault—it’s God’s.  He could have arranged for me to be born as Michelle Obama and have her delightful mother and her life, or God could have delayed my birth and let me be one of Michelle and Barack’s kids.  I’d be so cute, rich, and smart right now—and man, my upper arms would be on the road to becoming spectacular like Michelle’s instead of flapping in the breeze like the morning wash hung out to dry. But noooooo!  God had to let me be born to a crazy woman who thought if she, ever so sweetly, ignored me (except when she was trying to kill me), that maybe somehow my sister and I would disappear before anybody noticed we belonged to her.

Mothers Day Favorite Peter Broelman Australia

Cartoon used by permission: Peter Broelman, Australia

I suspect my mother was paranoid-schizophrenic long before I was born, but she kept it well hidden until the hormones of menopausal, illegitimate pregnancies produced offspring who demanded to have a mother.  Children are self-centered like that.  They don’t give a shit what is going on in your life.  If you’re their mother, then you better damn well show up and do your job and being crazy is no excuse:

“Feed me, change me, hold me, love me, discipline me—goddamnit—or I’m going down to the nearest ne’er-do-well office and fill out an application to become the local (fill in the blank____________) thief, drug-addict, ‘ho, gangsta, self-centered brat—you name it.  Forewarned is forearmed, Mommie Dearest.”

There is an old adage that women end up emulating their mothers which scared the bejesus out of my sister, Pee-wee, and me.   We were always looking over our shoulders to see if the crazies were going to catch up with us.  We’re both in our sixties now and we’ve managed not to go insane (knock on wood), but we did so by tip-toeing past the graveyard of Mother’s Days lost and putting each other through a sanity check once or twice a year.

Turning into my mother Dan Piraro www bizzaro com

Cartoon used by permission: Dan Piraro, http://www.bizzaro.com

My sister and I would take each other’s mental temperature with questions about scenarios that once plagued our mother’s daily existence:

Are you talking to the wall, yet?”  (No, only to myself, but I try not to answer me or to talk to myself more than once a day!)

“Are you sewing extraneous pockets inside your sweaters and coats and stuffing them with stolen Saltine crackers, sugar packets, salt and pepper shakers, and anything not nailed down at the lunch counter of the Woolworths Five and Dime to prepare for Armageddon?” (No, but I must confess that I take home the little bottles of shampoo and conditioner from fancy hotels.  Does that count?)

“Do you make up conspiracy theories about the Russians trying to take control of your mind through radio waves?”  (No, although I must admit that I am starting to believe a conspiracy theory that since Trump got elected, I’ve been kidnapped by aliens, and I’m living in an alternate universe with alternate truths and an alternate reality.)

“Do you fantasize about killing your children in order to protect them from the “Russians” and white people”?  (No, but I did have copious dreams for years about me killing our mother after that time I invited her to the Girls’ Ensemble concert I was conducting at a church.)

The Girls’ Ensemble concert in 1976 was my last ditch effort to reestablish a relationship with my mother after having cut her out of my life for years.   Mommie Dearest hadn’t been in the concert for more than fifteen minutes before she got “agitated from being surrounded by too many white people” she said, and decided to accompany the Negro spiritual I was conducting [“God’s Gonna Rain Down Fire”] with her personal pyrotechnics.  She couldn’t understand why I didn’t understand that she was aiding God and me with the lighted matches she was throwing with trance-like abandonment into the audience’s hair.  I can still hear the curses of those poor white folks as they scattered like roaches swatting their heads while Security tried to subdue my crazy-ass mother.  I kept conducting the choir as if nothing crazy was happening—as if I didn’t know that woman.  I was too horrified to turn around and face the audience.  All I could do was sob like a hot mess while never missing a beat with my baton, hope the audience thought the crazy woman was related to the only other black person in the choir, and beg God to open up the ground and yank my mother down into the deepest hole in Hell.

 

Crazy Mother FB MEME

Every year, my sister and I have passed our own litmus tests, and we didn’t become paranoid-schizophrenic like our mother—thank God.   But one doesn’t rub elbows with that type of mother and come out unscathed.  Children of alcoholics, drug addicts, and mentally ill people either become like their parents or become the polar opposite. With all due respect, my sister Pee-wee is a control-freak and never had children. I overcompensated for my mother’s mental and physical abandonment by trying to be the perfect mom who was always up in my children’s grill, which almost drove my kids and me insane.  All children make mistakes and have to find their own way in life, no matter how inept or how great the mother.  Every stumble, every rebellion, and every mistake my children made I took as a personal rejection of my “shoddy” parenting, and I would just try harder.   My kids weren’t allowed to fuck up in life and that is a pressure no child can withstand, even if their hearts are in the right place to do the right thing. They love me dearly, and I them, but I’ve always felt that I could have done better by them by providing more clear-thinking advice about the pitfalls of life.  I have nightmares about the things I never had a chance to teach them before they flew the coop.  My secret horror is that they will be confronted with something in life and not have the life skills with which to overcome, and that lack, in turn, will fling them into the insanity of their grandmother.  When asked what keeps me awake at night about motherhood—this is it.

Good Mother FB

ELEANOR’S “SELAH” (“AHA”) MOMENT

I am discovering that I am cautiously falling in love with the memory of my crazy-ass mother and coming to the adult realization that she did the best she could, given her circumstances.   Mama has been dead for thirty-seven years now (died in her sleep on an Easter morning after singing in the church choir), and I’m just beginning to see her through the prism of a life destroyed by intrinsic racism, sexual abuse, and poverty.  As I interview people from my past to chronicle my mother’s all-consuming insanity for my memoirs, I am beginning to see a woman who was not too different from me in her aspirations, dreams, and talents.  The difference in my sanity and my mother’s insanity is that I found the true love of a man (she was summarily abandoned by my father and left to perish in poverty with two babies); the winds of history blew open the doors at just the right time for my intelligent mind to be educated and my talent to be cultivated beyond the aspirations of scrubbing White folks’ toilets (Mama was never allowed to go past high school and spent much of her life as a maid rather than an opera singer which was her dream).   I have traveled the world and lived extremely well (wasting more money on Broadway shows, travel, and gourmet meals than my mother made in her entire life as a servant).

Am I sane today in spite of my mother because I escaped ignorance and want?   Can I “get over” in life because I don’t have to live under an apartheid system as my mother did in the US?  Were my babies safe from my potential descent into madness because I had hope for tomorrow and didn’t have to worry about my children’s next meal?  Only God knows.  But one thing is for sure—I no longer judge my mother for the pain I endured as a child.  Besides, it has made me who I am and given me a riotous sense of humor.  I am truly coming to love and understand the woman who gave me life.   From the conversations I’ve had recently with my grown children, it seems as if they are affording me the same grace.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY, MAMA!

Mom Dysfunction

INSPIRATIONAL QUOTE ABOUT MOTHERHOOD

“Mothers are all slightly insane.”—J. D. Salinger

“Our mothers always remain the strangest, craziest people we’ve ever met.”― Marguerite Duras

“When your mother asks, ‘Do you want a piece of advice?’ it’s a mere formality. It doesn’t matter if you answer yes or no. You’re going to get it anyway.”― Erma Bombeck

“Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did—that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that—a parent’s heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.”― Debra Ginsberg

Mothers Day IV Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

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BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR ON SALE NOW AT AMAZON!

THE FETUS CHRONICLES: PODCASTS FROM MY MISEDUCATED SELF

“Eleanor Tomczyk’s latest book shares deep insights and absurdly hilarious moments Tomczyk has collected from her life. She presents her unique humor and perspective through a fantastic conceit: podcasts to her unborn self.

“Tomczyk’s voice and cutting commentary travel back through the decades and into the womb. She’s here to tell her baby self all the things she should know about the world and all the lessons she will learn.

“Eleanor L. Tomczyk advises her fetus self on everything from the dangers of douching to the use of words as deadly weapons. Special podcast guest stars range from Tomczyk’s Aunt Lily—“Church Lady Extraordinaire”—to her own eyes and other body parts. When her children follow the “Little Barbarian Manifesto,” and her own organs start reminding her about the passing of time, all the reader can do is laugh out loud.”

MONSTERS’ THROWDOWN

FLEEING OZ

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Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on May 9, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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KINDLE LAUNCH of “THE FETUS CHRONICLES”

Do you know what I discovered today?   Amazon just launched the Kindle version of my new book:  The Fetus Chronicles: Podcasts from My Miseducated Self.

   IT’S ON SALE NOW AT AMAZON!

CHAPTER SNEAK PEAK:  SEE BELOW!

Front Cover

Kindle Book Cover of “The Fetus Chronicles”

I’m so excited that I decided to share one of the podcasts from the book.  Please note that the entire book is an absurdist theater piece (based on true events) about a weekly podcast to an audience of one—my fetus self.  The podcast segments (replete with imaginary commercials) are commentaries about my adventures as a Black woman and the gnarliness of life—covering everything from women in the workforce, shame, date rape, colonoscopies, menopausal sex, rearing children, betrayal of friends to fear of growing old and dying.  All the stories actually happened (or are happening) to me at one time or another.  Enjoy!

IMP. NOTE:  There is a reference to the Little Barbarian Manifesto in the excerpt below, which is explained in a previous chapter of the book.  It simply means:  A terrorist guide that all babies (especially First World babies) come to the Earth with, that instructs them on how to “get over” on their parents and claim sovereignty over their home turf.  In this chapter, the story is about my younger child.  The previous chapter in my book is about her older sister—both enthusiastic adherents to the Little Barbarian Manifesto.

***

PODCAST #18

 (EXCERPT FROM THE FETUS CHRONICLES)

This is The Fetus Chronicles—“You in Trouble, Girl” Podcast Hour.  I’m your host, Eleanor T, and today’s episode is brought to you by the late Dr. Benjamin Spock from the grave—“Forget most of what I told you in the ‘Common Sense Book of Baby and Child Care;’ just do the best you can because it’s all a crap shoot, anyway.”

***

Hey Girl!  How’s everything down under?  You should be about the size of the head of endive (about 12.7 ounces) by now since you’re twenty-one weeks old.  I read somewhere that you can bat your eyes just for the hell of it, and you’re sipping on cocktails of your own amniotic fluid, the taste of which is unimaginable, since I haven’t a clue what your mother is eating these days.  So, good luck with that.  According to Google, at least you can start to body surf at this stage, which must be pretty cool.

Anyway, Darling, I promised you last week that I would finish the story of our parenting characters: The Mother, The Father, Baby number one and Baby number two who have all settled down into becoming the perfect family…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Children of author, 1985 (ages 1 and 3)||Photo credit: Eleanor Tomczyk

 

Looking back, The Parents suspect Baby Number Two came to the Earth with the Little Barbarian Manifesto well in hand also, but she was slow to engage in the battle to bring down the reigning parental government which threw them off their game.  However, when she declared war, she could have written the book on passive-aggressive warfare.

Baby-girl didn’t talk for the longest time—just stared at the faces of others for hours on end as if to ascertain whether they were friend or foe, intelligent or stupid, good or bad.  (Once at a mall when she was ten months old, she stared so intently at a group of teenagers that they fled the mall in terror, screaming about the scary baby who kept following them with her demon eyes.)  When Baby-girl did talk, it was in complete, adult sentences with the potential to have international repercussions.  Once when The Parents were having a discourse over when there would ever be peace in the Middle East, the then three-year-old with a slight lisp chimed in at the appropriate lull in the conversation and said, “If ju askth me—if ju really want to know what to do ‘bout middie eest—I tell ju.”

It was downhill from there.  At three years old, the younger child announced that she was never, ever going to take a nap again once she discovered that her five-year-old kindergarten sister no longer needed a nap. She advised her parents that if they ignored her wishes and they put her down to nap, they did so at their own peril. Instead of wailing for hours like her older sister did and causing a huge scene that could be heard a block away, Baby-girl would bide her time, pretend to go to sleep, and when The Parents were otherwise occupied would sneak out of her bed and crawl into a hiding place that gave her full access to the family’s conversations but would keep her hidden for hours.  She would occupy herself by quietly drawing low-level permanent marker murals along the hallway’s crème-colored walls while holding the markers in the hand of her favorite doll (Sarah Finney).  Of course she was eventually caught—multiple times.  But each time she would swear on a stack of kid Bibles that it was Sarah Finney, the doll, who had encouraged her to escape her bed, and it was definitely Sarah Finney who had drawn the graffiti on the walls.  (Technically, she was right:  Baby-girl had wrapped the hands of the doll around the markers before taking hold of them both and drawing her masterpieces with abandonment.)

When it came to potty-training, that chapter in the Little Barbarian Manifesto must have been a doozy, because the war was on with Baby-girl when it became her time to be trained.

“It’s time to stop wearing diapers, Sweet Pea.  Here’s your new little kids’ toilet in your favorite color that plays music every time you leave a present of a “winkle” or a “poo-poo patty” in it.  Are you ready?  Isn’t this EXCITING?”

“Okay!”

Nothing happened.

IMG_1118 (1)

Daughter of author, 1986||Photo credit: J. Tomczyk

“Hey, Baby-girl—what’s goin’ on?  Don’t you want to be a big girl like your sister and wear panties?”

“No, can’t say that I do… I hate panties—I really, really like diapers.”

“Then why did you agree to sit on your new toilet today?”

“It’s a nice place to cuddle with Sarah Finney.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake.  I tell you what: How about an M&M every time you do #1 and two M&M’s when you do #2?  You love M&M’s right?” said the mother who had plagiarized the idea from one of the gazillion parenting magazine that assaulted the mailbox every week.

“Hum… how ‘bout three MM’s fo’ #1 and… and… ten, twenty MM’s fo’ #2?”

“Are you shittin’ me—sorry, Baby, excuse my French?  Why the giant wage increase?”

“#2 is super hard—need lots more MMs!”

There was a labor dispute right in the middle of the bathroom that lasted thirty minutes.  The child let out a thimble full of pee, demanded her payment of three M&M’s which the frustrated mother gave into—after all, a bargain is a bargain.  The child immediately got off the toilet and proceeded to saunter butt-naked back into the playroom, sat down on the playroom rug, and promptly peed a week’s worth of urine all over the rug and started to grunt out a poop about the size that a forty-year-old man would produce.

“No, no, no.  I’m the parent here,” screamed The Mother, as she grabbed the baby militant and plopped her naked behind back on the potty-chair.

“Listen Missy, I can tell when I’m being played.  It is time to be potty-trained and that is that.  You are going to sit here until that poop that I can actually see halfway poking out of your butt plops into the toilet and we make some progress. ‘Capiche’”?

An hour passed.

K and C

Children of author, 1984||Photo credit: J. Tomczyk

“What’s happening here?  Where is the poop that was visibly poking out of your behind a little while ago?”

“I push it back inside with my fingers.  Can I have 10 MM’s anyway?”

(This was soon discovered by The Parents to be a ruse of their Little Barbarian:  Baby-girl would squeeze out the smallest deposit of urine to get the candy reward and then subsequently drop a grown man’s equivalent of a shit brick into her diaper while quietly playing with Sarah Finney off in a corner somewhere some ten minutes after leaving her potty-chair.)

“Oh for Pete’s sake!  You are way overdo to be potty-trained.  All your friends are trained.  The other mothers are looking at me like I’m an unfit mommy.  Come on kid—help a mother out.  Besides, if you can negotiate like a fifty-year-old lawyer, you can learn to go to the toilet, ‘tout de suite.’”

“Nope! No way, Jose.”

“Come on, Sweetie, you don’t want to be a baby forever, do you?  Don’t you want to grow up and be a big girl?”

“No!  I’m okay being the baby.  It works for me.”

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Husband and daughters of author, 1984||Photo credit: Eleanor Tomczyk

 

The Mother and The Father were never, ever able to potty-train Baby-girl. I am convinced that there is a chapter in the Little Barbarian Manifesto that says:

“Comrade, it is very important if your older sibling does not break The Parents through sheer dominance, then the ball is in your court to wear them down through a full-court press of guerilla warfare.  Initially acquiesce to whatever they ask you to do so that it looks as if you are the compliant child, and then never, ever do what you promised.  This will work throughout your childhood covering your homework assignments, cleaning up hardened nail polish off the wooden floor of your bedroom, cleaning your room that will stay steeped in knee-deep dirty clothes until you’re an adult, or emptying the dishwasher.”

The Parents cajoled, they pleaded, they threatened, they cried, and finally gave up on ever potty-training their second child until a very wise old woman told them to lighten up because she had never seen a twenty-one year old wearing a diaper who wasn’t medically impaired.  The M&M strategy did nothing for the potty-training process except turn Baby-girl into a life-long candy junkie because by the time she was finally potty-trained (by her five-year-old sister over a ten-minute span), the parental bribe was up to fifteen M&M’s for #1 and thirty-five M&M’s for #2—paid in two installments, due to the size of the teensy-weenie’s hands.

The Parents should have known that they were no match for Baby-girl and that she had an updated copy of the Little Barbarian Manifesto, when one day she was enjoying her afternoon respite watching Sesame Street while cuddling with her mother when Kermit the Frog started singing his trademark song, “It’s not easy being green.”  The Mother was touched by the sweetness of the song, but the chubby, bi-racial toddler yanked the sippy-cup out of her mouth, pointed it at the TV screen in warrior-like defiance, and promptly announced to Kermit:  “Yeah right, Frog!  You think it not easy bein’ green?  You should try bein’ light brown!”

HEAD SHOT LATEST

Author, Eleanor Tomczyk||Photo credit: J. Tomczyk

 

Well, would you look at the time, Fetus-self?  I haven’t even told you why I’m telling you this story about having kids.  There is a method to my madness.  Except, I can’t even begin to go into all of that at this late hour.  Besides, I’ve yet to tell you about the War of the Worlds between Baby-girl and her sister.  Stay tuned.

Until next week:  Keep calm, stay focused, and grow bigger!

KINDLE: “THE FETUS CHRONICLES” ON SALE NOW ON AMAZON!

PAPERBACK AND KINDLE EDITIONS

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on May 4, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT: MY THIRD CHILD HAS BEEN BORN!

WELL, FOLKS, THE OLD BROAD DID IT!  My third book has arrived!

AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK AT AMAZON TODAY!

(Kindle copy to be released in two weeks)

TA-DAH!

Front Cover

FRONT COVER

 AMAZON EDITORIAL REVIEW

With The Fetus Chronicles, writer and humorist Eleanor L. Tomczyk completes the trilogy she started with Monsters’ Throwdown and Fleeing Oz. Her latest book shares deep insights and absurdly hilarious moments Tomczyk has collected from her life. She presents her unique humor and perspective through a fantastic conceit: podcasts to her unborn self.

Tomczyk’s voice and cutting commentary travel back through the decades and into the womb. She’s here to tell her baby self all the things she should know about the world and all the lessons she will learn.

Eleanor L. Tomczyk advises her fetus self on everything from the dangers of douching to the use of words as deadly weapons. Special podcast guest stars range from Tomczyk’s Aunt Lily—“Church Lady Extraordinaire”—to her own eyes and other body parts. When her children follow the “Little Barbarian Manifesto,” and her own organs start reminding her about the passing of time, all the reader can do is laugh out loud.

Ms. Tomczyk speaks to her past self as a Black woman, a proud (if sometimes out-of-her-depth) mother, a wise teacher, a jaded baby boomer, and the many other identities she has adopted during her storied life.

Back Cover

Back Cover: “The Fetus Chronicles”

EARLY REVIEWS

“This book has got to be the best book I have ever read, with the exception of the Bible.  However, I do not recall much humor in the Bible. In the conversations with the author’s self, The Fetus Chronicles is a collection of essays that are depicted with sadness, life’s purpose, life’s challenges, hope, and life’s lessons along the way that make an individual put up or shut up, and realize we are all put on the Earth for a purpose—all while done with such humor, laugh out loud instances, and even “Aha” moments. The humor is to die for.”J.A.

“I think that the author dealt with an uncomfortable subject of growing old with a balance of sobriety and humor.  This is a very difficult task to achieve, and all I can say is “kudos!”  Another proof of the author’s strength and tenacity.”—D.L.

“I really liked the premise of the author talking to her unborn self.  It was easy to pick up, read and entry or two, and pick up again later.  If one wanted to, one could even jump around vs. reading straight through.  I loved all the “products” that sponsored each podcast.”—K.F.

 ***

PLEASE RUN—DON’T DALLY—TO PURCHASE A COPY OF “THE FETUS CHRONICLES” FROM AMAZON

IF YOU LOVE MY NEW BOOK—PLEASE TAKE THE TIME TO WRITE A REVIEW AND POST ON AMAZON.

IF YOU DON’T LIKE “THE FETUS CHRONICLES,” MY NAME IS “CRIDDLE SMEGOFF.” 

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on April 25, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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HAMILTON, THE MUSICAL

Do you know what I discovered last week?  Every once and awhile, God answers one of my begging, pleading, nagging prayers:  Last week God answered two of them.  I got to go to NYC and see, Hamilton: An American Musical (Yeah, Baby!), and Bill O’Reilly got kicked out of Fox News on his ass along with his sicko buddy Roger Ailes.   Buh, bye boys! 

OReilly and Ailes Steve SackThe Minneapolis Star Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star-Tribune

But enough of that slimy, arrogant, racist, misogynistic, lying piece of shit—O’Reilly—and “hello” to a hero and a scholar:  ALEXANDER HAMILTON!  (You know, that dude on the ten-dollar bill, one of the founding fathers of the United States, one of the main authors of the Federalist Papers, and our first Secretary of the Treasury.)

Playbill_from_the_original_Broadway_production_of_Hamilton

By Source (WP:NFCC#4), Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=47271664

So I bet you’re wondering, how did this old woman get so lucky?  Well, as the kids would say, “This is what had happened”:

SOME TIMES PRAYERS DO GET ANSWERED AND DREAMS DO COME TRUE

By the author, ET

**A REVIEW**

Once upon a time there was an old woman who transitioned into retirement the same month a phenomenon was being born on Broadway and tickets into Heaven were easier to get than those to Hamilton.  The Woman hadn’t yearned to see a Broadway show as much as this since Les Miz.  But, alas, alack, The Man she was married to turned a deaf ear to her machinations to ransom their first born child in order to procure tickets.  His only response:  “If we weren’t moving—maybe—but we now live on a budget (fixed income/income fixed: say it frontwards and backwards, they both mean the same thing), and tickets to Hamilton are not an option.” 

The Woman (who never takes “no” for an answer), while beseeching her God to strike Donald Trump with a lightning bolt and crater Fox News with an earthquake, snuck in a teensy-weenie prayer that he would change her husband’s heart about tickets to the musical Hamilton before Christ’s return.  No answer.

In the meantime, The Woman assuaged her disappointment at not seeing the musical by reading Ron Chernow’s bestseller, Alexander Hamilton (the book the musical is based upon) and listening to and memorizing every song on the cast recording of Hamilton.

Alexander Hamilton Chernow

Book cover of Alexander Hamilton/Amazon.com

A year went by as The Man and The Woman settled into retirement and began to travel more. It was at that point that The Woman began to get hints that Her God might be answering her prayers about Hamilton.  A short time later, and quite by accident, The Woman and The Man ended up on St. Kitts on an old sugar cane plantation train traversing the island that overlooked the birthplace of Alexander Hamilton: Charlestown, Nevis. 

Alexander Hamilton Birthplace

By Daniel Farrell – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=13565315

“The current structure was rebuilt from the ruins of the house where Alexander Hamilton was born and lived as a young child.”Wikipedia

As The Woman engaged in excited, hyperbolic pontifications to a fellow traveler sitting next to her about the history of Hamilton, her longing to see the musical before she died, and what a fantastic work of history Ron Chernow’s book is, The Woman encountered (unbeknownst to her) her first Trump supporter in the flesh.  The Trump Supporter from Pennsylvania had never heard of the musical (horrors!) or the history book by Chernow (double horrors!!).  In fact, The Trump Supporter confessed her lifelong disdain for history until she started reading Bill O’Reilly’s (of Fox News) five historical books about Lincoln, Kennedy, Jesus, Patton, and Reagan (quadruple horrors!!!!).  The Trump Supporter asked The Woman if she had read those “wonderful works of history?”  The Woman went all Alec Baldwin on her—forgot her traveling manners—as she declared that if the books O’Reilly wrote were considered “history,” then she was a direct descendant of Alexander Hamilton, and that O’Reilly’s books had been trashed by the critics as a bunch of crap. Then The Woman topped the cake with icing by stating:  “Anyone who reads O’Reilly’s historical messes as truth is an idiot.  Needless to say, The Trump Supporter was not amused, turned her back on The Woman while she demanded that her husband tell the “two queers” in front of the train window to move so that she could get a picture of Hamilton’s island home.

I should have realized at that moment something was afoot:  O’Reilly and Alexander Hamilton in the same breath, on a slave train, in a tropical island?  God was on the move—I could feel it.

Even Vice President Pence got to see the musical “Hamilton” and got schooled by the Hamilton cast during the curtain call.  Yes!  And his daddy (Trump) got pissed and demanded an apology from the cast.  (Never!!) Everyone was getting to see Hamilton except me.  Where was the love, The Woman asked The Man and Her God?

Trump vs Hamilton Bob Englehart CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Bob Englehart CagleCartoons.com

Then Christmas 2016 came.  The Woman’s present was the last one to be opened.  In a box that looked as if it held a new Cuisinart, the woman dug deep and pulled out an envelope:  Two tickets to Hamilton for April 2017—“Merry Christmas, Baby, Love ‘White and Wonderful!’”

It appears that The Man had been working, searching, planning, saving, and doing everything in his power to bless the love of his life with tickets to Hamilton.  He had bought the tickets over a year ago and kept it a secret from The Woman.  The Woman damn near fainted in front of the Christmas tree, as she reminded her children that this was one of the reasons she had married their father—this was the way love rolled!

Last week, The Man and Woman went off to New York City to see the show of a lifetime.  Few things ever, ever meet up to one’s expectations, but Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton surpassed The Woman’s greatest expectations!  It didn’t matter that Mr. Miranda was no longer starring in this phenomenon, because the replacement cast was equal (and in a couple of cases) better than the original cast.  The night The Woman and The Man saw the show, Brian D’Arcy James (of “13 Reasons Why” of Netflix fame and the original King George III during Hamilton’s workshop days), and James Monroe Iglehart (the genie from Broadway’s Aladdin) made their debuts in Hamilton and brought down the house.  From the moment the cast started the opening number, and the Aaron Burr character sang his opening line, chills spread up and down The Woman’s body and she and her man were transported to heaven:

“How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a

Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten

Spot in the Caribbean by providence, impoverished, in squalor,

Grow up to be a hero and a scholar?”

Lyrics, “Hamilton” by Lin-Manuel Miranda

The Woman sent a message back to all her family, friends and fans that night:  “Do whatever you have to do to see the musical, Hamilton.  The hype is no exaggeration.  The script is outstanding, the singing is superb, the choreography is brilliant, and the message is transformational.  Beg, borrow, steal (do the time [just kidding], oh hell, it would be worth it!), but you must see this show.  It will change your life!  Lin-Manuel Miranda is a genius.

Hamilton

Photo credit:  Eleanor Tomczyk

INSPIRATIONAL “SELAH” (“AHA” MOMENT) BY ELEANOR TOMCZYK

I am discovering that prayers do get answered.  While I was in NYC seeing Hamilton, O’Reilly’s career was destroyed.  I can’t tell you how many petitions I’ve signed to have that man removed from the airwaves and how many prayers I’ve uttered to have his influence eradicated.  I was horrified when I met that Trump Supporter in the West Indies—horrified at the stupidity she embraced based on a stupid man’s lies that she believed to be truth.

On the other hand, I was enthralled by the brilliance of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s awesome rendition of one of our forefathers’ stories.  It reminded me that we are a nation of immigrants (Miranda, himself, is the son of Puerto Rican immigrants) inspired by God to do great things.  And although it looks as if we are living in the gutter right now under the reign of a tyrant king, we once “turned the world upside down” as Lin-Manuel’s lyric says and did the impossible by overthrowing a stupid king and building a great nation that cannot easily be destroyed.  I saw Hamilton and I came away inspired and strengthened in faith that God is hearing my prayers for the immigrant, the disenfranchised, and the powerless.

Killing OReillys Career David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

***

INSPIRTATION ALEXANDER HAMILTON QUOTES

“Why has government been instituted at all? Because the passions of man will not conform to the dictates of reason and justice without constraint.”—Alexander Hamilton

 “The voice of the people has been said to be the voice of God; and, however generally this maxim has been quoted and believed, it is not true to fact. The people are turbulent and changing, they seldom judge or determine right.”Alexander Hamilton

“There are seasons in every country when noise and impudence pass current for worth; and in popular commotions especially, the clamors of interested and factious men are often mistaken for patriotism.”Alexander Hamilton

QUOTES COURTESY OF www.brainyquote.com

Political Discourse David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

REFERENCES

https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2016/nov/05/why-hamilton-is-making-musical-history

http://www.broadwayworld.com/article/Non-Stop-James-Monroe-Iglehart-and-Brian-DArcy-James-Join-the-Broadway-Cast-of-HAMILTON-Tonight-20170414

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 
11 Comments

Posted by on April 23, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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EASTER IS COMING!

Do you know what I discovered, recently?  Mother Nature can’t make up her mind whether spring should come or winter should stay.  I live in a golf community, and even though I’d personally prefer to knock myself unconscious with a five-iron rather than play a round of golf, I am feeling a bit sorry for my friends and neighbors who almost froze to death last week just trying to play nine holes.  While they muttered and complained about the wind-chill factor, I turned back on the heat and the fireplace, and wrapped myself in a warm blanket with a mug of hot chocolate.

Winter Spring Duel Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, Politicalcartoons.com

As I meditated on the concept of why any sane human being would ever want to hit a white ball with a clubbed stick in any type of weather, suddenly the sky grew dark and stormy, the heavens opened up, and rain with hail the size of peas on steroids began to assault my house and property while the trees bent so low, it looked as if they were trying to kiss the Earth.  While I tried to determine whether I was in a tornado and should run down to the basement, a rabbit flew across my lawn (propelled by the wind) in search of shelter, but never managed to land on its feet.  The hurricane-type winds pushed him down the hill at fifty miles an hour and out of sight.   I’m pretty sure he didn’t survive, and I imagine his bunny ass is plastered against one of the trees in the forest behind my house.  However, I’ll never know for sure because when I tried to find out what happened to him once the storm was over, a large snake slithered out of the forest towards me, and I ran back into the safety of my house, screaming:  “Oh Hell to the no! Bunny.  I like rabbits—being it’s near Easter and all—but tangling with a snake to save your sorry-ass is beyond the pale.”  (Don’t you ever wonder why we don’t see more animals flying through the air when bad storms happen?  Where do they go during hurricanes and tornados?  What do they cling to when the winds are moving at a hundred miles an hour?  I have a million squirrels on my property—why didn’t I see at least a half million of those soaring through the air?)

I took a nap, fully expecting to dream about that wind-kill-of-a-bunny, but instead I dreamt of the Easter Bunny.  Only in my dream scenario, the Easter Bunny wasn’t being hammered by a winter/spring storm against a tree, he was in hiding in a giant cave with a gazillion eggs, hordes of Easter candy with a legion of reporters asking him how he’d lost his faith.  I could see them, but they couldn’t see me.  As I approached the scene, I heard the Easter Bunny say:  “I quit, I quit I tell you!  All you people from every country all over this planet are horrid creatures.  There isn’t a country that I’ve visited where I haven’t been assaulted, attacked, and arrested.  What am I guilty of?  What did I ever do but bring happiness, sunshine, and color to your pathetic lives?  And what do I get in return?  War.  Mayhem.  Slaughter.  Assault.  Abuse.  BUNNY LIVES—ESPECIALLY EASTER BUNNY LIVES—MATTER, YOU SONS-A-BITCHES!”

Easter in Europe Marian Kamensky Austria

Cartoon used by permission: Marian Kemensky, Slovakia

(News organizations represented: RNN=Real News Network, EBN=Easter Bunny News, MNBC=Mayhem Network Broadcasting Corporation, ETWN=End of the World Network)

RNN:  Easter Bunny.  We just got news via your Twitter account that you’re quitting the biz.  What gives?

EASTER B:  You—all of y’all.  You’re the reason I’m quitting.  The entire human race has gotten on my every last nerve.  All my bunny partners are quitting, also.  From here to China and back through Africa, we are hanging up our Easter baskets and taping down our ears.  You beings could care less about Easter and what it stands for.  The Bunny Times was delivered to me today, and I almost had a heart attack just getting through the first half-dozen headlines:

The Uranium Underworld: ISIS want a dirty bomb—and it knows where to get one

Famine now threatens more people than at any time since World War II

San Bernardino reels from elementary school shooting that left teacher, 8-year-old student dead

Charleston church shooter Dylann Roof pleads guilty in state court, avoids second death penalty trial

It Took Thieves 30 Seconds to Crash Truck Into Store, Grab Guns And Leave

Approaching “societal collapse”: New equation shows how quickly humans are wrecking the planet

Why the population of Easter Island really died out: Study finds arrival of Europeans brought disease that wiped out inhabitants

EASTER B:  I’ve just been hiding out in this cave, getting drunk and sobbing myself to sleep.  You people are some nasty-ass mammals.  You destroy everything in your wake—from babies to the Earth’s atmosphere.  No amount of Cadbury eggs and jelly beans can fix you.  You’re broken, and I am at my wit’s end regarding how to fix you.

World Broken Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, Politicalcartoons.com

EBN:  Easter Bunny, is it true that you were shot at in Alabama?

EASTER B:  Shot at in Alabama, Tennessee, Georgia, Louisiana, South and North Carolina, Kentucky, Mississippi, Oklahoma, Texas, and of course Florida.  Those goddamn “stand your ground laws” will be the death of me yet.  What is it with you people and your love of guns?  I’ve traveled through war zones and never been shot at as much as I have in the United States.  Aren’t you people the ones who claim that the One who Easter is about is the One who loves your nation above all other nations?  (It isn’t true, you know; I have it on great authority that my employer loves all peoples from all nations.)  But my point is, show me the Bible verse where Jesus said, “I died on the cross so that you might have a life with guns and have guns more abundantly to shoot and kill anybody that looks at you sideways.”

Easter Bunny Gunned Down Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, Politicalcartoons.com

MNBC:  Mr. Bunny, people are saying that you’re exaggerating your plight because in reality you’re just getting too old for the job, but you don’t have the chutzpah to retire.  Is it true?  Aren’t you 500 years old?

EASTER B:  Who is spreading those vicious lies?  I’m not a day over 400!  I’m as spry as the day I started when I used to be called “The Judge,” and I determined what children had been naughty or nice to leave candy for the nice ones.  That is until that fat guy in the red suit took over my modus operandi.

 ETWN:  Sir, “End of the World Network” here.  Is it true that you were on United Airlines flight 3411 at Chicago O’Hare International Airport and saw the entire scene go down when United brutalized the elderly Asian man and pulled him off the plane because they allegedly wanted to give his seat to a crew member? Are the stories we’ve been hearing true?

EASTER B:  You’re damn straight the stories are true.  Yes, I had just settled into my seat with my basket of goodies (Peeps, jelly beans, chocolate eggs—you name it) stowed overhead when the scene went down.  It was just horrific, I tell you—disgusting!  The poor man was bleeding and frightened.  Children were crying, people were screaming for the United Airlines thugs to stop brutalizing that old man.   (He’s a doctor, you know?  I kept waiting for the stewardess to announce:  “Is there a doctor on board to treat the passenger who we just beat the shit out of?”  Then the guy could have raised his hand to treat himself and saved United some money, which seems to be all they care about these days.  They certainly don’t care about their customers.  Fly the friendly skies with United, my bunny ass!)  What you don’t know is that I was the fourth individual who was asked to give up my seat.  Well, as you can imagine, I said an emphatic, “Hell to the no!”  I had to get to Louisville that night, too.  Children were waiting for me.  I told the snarky flight attendant that Easter is a priority.  Had she no faith?

ETWN:  What did she say?

EASTER B:  She said, “Yeah, right!  If you’re the Easter Bunny, than I’m Jesus Christ.  Get out!”  And then the United Airlines thugs dragged me out—Easter accoutrements flying every which way but Sunday.  It’s appalling the way they treated me!  United Airlines actions with the Asian man and with Easter Bunny extraordinaire were devoid of compassion and coldhearted as a snake!

United Airlines Bunny Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle

MNBC:  Do you have any proof?  Did anyone take pictures and post them on Facebook?  You got a YouTube video?

EASTER B:  That’s for me to know and for you to find out.  All you need to know is that last bit of inhumanity did it for me.  Broke my heart and my spirit.  I figured if they could do that to “moi” (a revered international figure that is well over 400 years old), then no human is safe in their hands.  That’s when I decided to give up the ghost and go into hiding.  The Chinese Easter Bunny sent me a text a couple hours ago and said he is also quitting, because he is convinced that the United Airlines debacle was racially motivated since the doctor was Asian that they dragged off the plane.  I don’t know anything about that (as far as I’m concerned, their actions towards me were those of rodent racists).  All I know is no human being who was just trying to make his way back home deserved to be treated like that.  Anyway, you all will have to excuse me.  I need to get some rest.

EBN:  One last question, Easter Bunny.  If you stay in hiding, who will represent the Easter Bunny at the White House Easter egg hunt and roll?

EASTER B:  No longer my concern, Dude.  Maybe your President will be able to conjure up a replacement.  In the meantime, adieu, ciao, adios!

Steve Bannon as the Easter Bunny John Darkow Columbia Daily Tribune Missouri

Cartoon used by permission: John Darkow, Columbia Daily Tribune, Missouri

ELEANOR’S “SELAH” (“AHA” MOMENT) ABOUT EASTER

I am discovering that fortunately my hope and trust in Easter has nothing to do with a bunny, so he can be dead for all I care.  But the fact that my God did not stay dead, but rose again on Easter morning is the reason I live, breathe, and have my being. 

Resurrection = a second chance, and a second chance = hope.  Every day I pray as a human being to do right by others—be they family or strangers.  Yet, every day I fall short of that goal and betray the life of my good God who gave His life for me that I might have life and have it more abundantly than my birth, race, and social status initially accorded me by the country of my birth.  I love spring because no matter how cruel and long winter is or how many missteps I make as an inadequate human, spring never fails to resurrect the Earth and bring forth summer, and Easter never fails to readjust my moral compass.

In spite of all the wintery darkness of the world that swirls around us (wars and rumors of wars, chemical warfare, ISIS, and a President from Hell), the remembrance of the resurrection of Jesus undergirds my soul so that I hope—no, I KNOW—that because of Easter, summer is coming to the hearts of man.  Easter is the miracle that life wins over death.

HAPPY EASTER, EVERYONE!

JESUS IS RISEN—HE IS RISEN, INDEED!

Easter Risen Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, Politicalcartoons.com

 

INSPIRATIONAL EASTER QUOTES

“A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act.”—Mahatma Gandhi

“I really do believe that God is love, one of deep affection and grace and forgiveness and inspiration.”—William P. Young

“Easter is very important to me, it’s a second chance.”—Reba McEntire

Spring and freezing Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle

DO YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS COMING?  MY THIRD BOOK!  TWO MORE WEEKS—WATCH THIS SPACE!

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out www.eleanortomczyk.com

WANT TO READ THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS?  Monsters’ Throwdown and Fleeing Oz are both on sale at Amazon (Paperback and Kindle).

 REFERENCES

http://www.salon.com/2017/04/11/donald-trumps-white-house-cant-even-organize-the-easter-egg-roll/

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/dr-gridlock/wp/2017/04/11/amid-pr-fiasco-over-dragged-passenger-united-ceo-defends-his-crew/?hpid=hp_hp-top-table-main_no-name%3Ahomepage%2Fstory

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
6 Comments

Posted by on April 11, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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Y’ALL WOKE YET?

Do you know what I’ve discovered this week?  Our “country, tis of thee, sweet land of liberty,” is in trouble, Girls and Boys!  We are being led by a madman who has been proven to be a consummate liar, and he allegedly colluded with the Russians to interfere with our election.  The walls of our country are falling down around Trump’s ears.  This dude is beginning to make Nixon look like a saint, and the question that continues to blow my mind is:  How can his supporters—especially his Christian supporters—still stand behind this cretin? Plus, he’s trying to kill off Big Bird!

America cannot be saved Marian Kamensky Austria

Cartoon used by permission: Marian Kamensky, Austria

 

I “watched” the Congressional hearing featuring Director Comey and his side-kick Adm. Michael S. Rogers the other day from start to finish.  THE FINAL VERDICT:  Trump LIED, LIED, LIED about President Obama wiretapping Trump Tower, Trump lied about President Obama coercing British intelligence to spy on him (which incurred the wrath of the Brits), and Trump lied about lying.  And then there are the Russian connections to his campaign—growing stronger and louder every day.

Besides the Russians, I started wondering about the two major groups that ushered this madman into the White House:  disenfranchised White folks (boy, are they going to be devastated at his betrayal) and born-again Christians (boy, are they gonna have some ‘splainin’ to do to Jesus).  I’m wondering how they can justify their support of such a creature—especially the “born-agains.” (In the interest of full disclosure, I am a born-again Christian but the kind with a brain, a heart, and a soul that hasn’t sold itself to the devil—a.k.a. Trump.)

Maybe it’s me?  Maybe the rules have changed as to how God feels about liars.  If so, then I can see why the 4 out of 5 White evangelicals who voted for Trump (and think he is God’s anointed man of the hour) are winking at his lies.  I don’t know—maybe there’s a new Bible in town— you know, the book they all swear by.  I decided to put Trump and The Holy Bible on trial and call up my alter ego (The Dalai Mama) to do a “Judge Judy” courtroom scene in which Truth is weighed in the balance.

Leaks Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

 

Courtroom scene opens in an alternative universe where Donald Trump is the defendant, the God of the Universe is the plaintiff, and my alter ego (The Dalai Mama) is the judge. 

BAILIFF: All rise. Department One of the Superior Court is now in session.  The Honorable Judge Dalai Mama is presiding.  Please be seated.

DALAI MAMA: Good mornin’, ladies and gentlemen. Hope y’all had your Wheaties this mornin’ ‘cause it’s gonna be a long day, I can tell.  Callin’ forward our first case of the God of the Universe versus Donald Trump. Are both sides ready?  Where’s the plaintiff, God?  I don’t see him.

BAILIFF:   Excuse me, your Honor, but God sent a representative to testify on his behalf—The Holy Bible.  If that is okay with you?

DALAI MAMA:  What am I gonna say?  No?  I’d much prefer THE MAN, Himself show today because He’s been awful quiet lately.  The world could use Him showing up in the flesh, and settin’ a few things straight.  In fact, we really need him to do something about South Sudan.  Starvation is getting’ so bad there that the guerilla warriors are kidnapping the aid workers and demanding their ransom in food.  But since He’s God, I’ll accept His surrogate.  Proceed, Bailiff.

BAILIFF: Your Honor, the defendant (Donald J. Trump) has been charged with the crime of lying through his teeth.

TRUMP: False!  Bad Bailiff!  You dare judge me—fake news!  Under the law I am presumed innocent until proven guilty. During this trial, you will hear no real evidence against me. You will come to know the truth: that I, Donald Trump, speak only truth and everyone who disagrees with me speaks lies—especially that “bad man,” Barack Hussein Obama. I am not guilty of anything.  All my facts about him came from very reliable sources of the highest order.

Trump Intel David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

 

DALAI MAMA:  Zip it Donald.  Keep it up, and you’ll be in contempt of court. The Bench calls the owner of the truth of God—the Holy Bible.

BAILIFF:   Please stand. Raise your right hand. Do you promise that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?

BIBLE:  I do.

BAILIFF: Please state your first and last name and spell it.

BIBLE:   My name is Bible—no first name—just Bible.  I’m the “B-I-B-L-E…”

BAILIFF:   [breaks into song) “Yes, that’s the book for me!”

DALAI MAMA:  Cut it out, Bailiff, my courtroom ain’t no Sunday school!  Bible, since you are the plaintiff in this case, what has Donald Trump done to piss off the God of the Universe.

BIBLE:  Well, your honor, Mr. Trump claims to be a “Christian,” but Jesus sent me here to tell the Court that if this man is a Christian, then the Earth is flat and the Sun revolves around the Earth.  He’s never heard Trump repent of anything, admit he’s wrong about anything, and God finds him to be a lowlife who abuses women.

TRUMP:  Oh, yeah?  Well, if I’m not a Christian, why did the White Conservative Evangelicals send me to the White House?  They think I’m a Christian.  Besides, who cares what you think:  I’m President and you’re not.  And who is this Jesus, anyway.  Didn’t he get crucified?  I don’t like gods who get crucified—only gods who don’t.  Loser!

DALAI MAMA:  Hey—FOOL!  Don’t you dare come up in my courtroom blasphemin’ the Lawd.   You may survive his wrath, but you won’t survive mine, Sucka!  Bible, please proceed.

Trump Burning Bob Englehart CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Bob Englehart, CagleCartoons.com

 

BIBLE:  As I was saying, the God of the Universe takes issue with Mr. Trump being a Christian and questions the faith of those who will not confront The Donald on his egregious lies.  One of the characteristics of God is that he is a God of Truth.  If it would please the Court, would your Honor please read the latest tweet lies that made their way into the heavens and, therefore, to God’s ears?

DALAI MAMA:  Sure.  Is it true Mr. Trump that on March 4, 2017, you tweeted the following:  “How low has President Obama gone to tapp [sic] my phones during the very sacred election process? This is Nixon/Watergate. Bad (or sick) guy!”  What is it about Barack Obama that causes you to lose yo’ “Christianity,” Sir?  If, indeed, you are a Christian.

TRUMP:  The Kenyan keeps messing with me.  He’s messing with me right now.  Can’t you see him standing over there trying to tape this travesty of a hearing?  He’s in cahoots with that Jesus character.

Trump sees Obama RJ Matson Roll Call

Cartoon used by permission: RJ Matson Roll Call

DALAI MAMA:  No!  You’re changing the subject, Little Man.  These court documents submitted by David Leonhardt from the NY Times say you (Trump) lied about:  “Obama’s birthplace, John F. Kennedy’s assassination, Sept. 11, the Iraq War, ISIS, NATO, military veterans, Mexican immigrants, Muslim immigrants, anti-Semitic attacks, the unemployment rate, the murder rate, the Electoral College, voter fraud and his groping of women.”   Look like you wouldn’t know the truth if it came and bit you in the butt, Trumpee.  Bible, what does God have to say about lyin’?

BIBLE:  Tons of stuff.  First off, in the second commandment of the Ten Commandments, God says:  Don’t do it.  In Leviticus 19:11, my pages say:  “Do not lie.  Do not deceive.” 

TRUMP: Levite what?  Is that some kind of Jewish hotdog? I love hot dogs.

BIBLE:  (Sigh!)  Then there’s one of my favorites:  “Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator.”  That’s in Colossians 3:9

DALAI MAMA:  Isn’t that lovely?  My favorite is Ephesians 4:25“Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to his neighbor, for we are members of one another.” Isn’t that somethin’ else? “We are members of one another.”  Now, how you and yo’ followers claim to be Christians when you lie like a rug when it’s so much easier to tell the truth.  Director Comey shot yo’ lies right out of the sky.

Lies shot down by Comey Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star-Tribune

TRUMP:   You believe that so-called FBI Director?  That so-called Bible?  They’re both lying.  They’re both fakes—pushing fake news!

BAILIFF:  Y’all ain’t even come close to my favorite scripture about lyin’ yet, written right there in the heart of the Bible in Psalm 34:11-16:

“Come my children, listen to me;

I will teach you the fear of the Lord.

Whoever of you loves life

And desires to see many good days,

Keep your tongue from evil

And your lips from telling lies.

…the face of God is against those who do evil,

To blot out their name from the Earth.”

DALAI MAMA:  Oooooh, you hear that, Trump?.  Your days are numbered, Baby.  The Bible that you say you believe in says the God you say you believe in is gonna wipe your behind off the face of the Earth and blot out the Trump name from the Earth unless you stop doin’ evil.  There you have it.  On that note, I ain’t got nothin’ else to say, except:  “Donald J. Trump, you are guilty of lyin’ your ass off, and you stand accused of such, by the God of the Universe.  Repent, ask God’s forgiveness, and apologize to President Obama for defaming his name and legacy, and then, maybe—just maybe—your presidency might not suffer the wrath of God!”

TRUMP:  I never admit to wrong doing.   I never ask forgiveness (I thought everybody knew that).  I don’t like this hearing.  God is so unfair.  Bad God.  Why doesn’t he zap the Kenyan? Then maybe I’d listen to him.  He clearly doesn’t like me.  I only like gods who like me.  So there!

Trump Cursed America Bill Day Cagle Cartoons

Cartoon used by permission:  Bill Day, Cagle Cartoons

***

ELEANOR’S “SELAH” (“AHA” MOMENT) REGARDING TRUMP’S LIES

I am discovering that America needs to ask itself:  What type of leader do we want, and what is the meaning of truth?   The more lying becomes accepted practice in our presidents, the more we’ll get used to it, until there will be no more truth in the land.  ‘Cause here’s the thing:  a fish rots from the head on down.  Hey, Christian supporters of Trump:  “Y’ALL WOKE YET?”

What America Wants Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

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 SCARY QUOTES ABOUT TRUMP’S INABILITY TO TELL THE TRUTH

“Donald Trump’s peculiar relationship with the truth—his penchant for promoting unfounded stories and conspiracies theories—represents not just a curious quirk or a character flaw. They are a much-practiced technique that has paid dividends as self-promotion in his business career and in his political rise. Over decades spent in the company of yes men and yes women, he has been able to fire off nonsense without question or rebuke.  But now he is President Trump, and his breezy spewing of falsehoods has become a national embarrassment—a threat to U.S. security and America’s standing in the world.”—Frida Ghitis/CNN

 “If the Trump campaign, or anybody associated with it, aided or abetted the Russians, it would not only be a serious crime, it would also represent one of the most shocking betrayals of our democracy in history.”Rep. Adam Schiff of California

“I have been authorized by the Department of Justice to confirm that the FBI, as part of our counterintelligence mission, is investigating the Russian government’s efforts to interfere in the 2016 presidential election,” Comey said. “And that includes investigating the nature of any links between individuals associated with the Trump campaign and the Russian government.”Director Comey

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WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out www.eleanortomczyk.com

WANT TO READ THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS?  Monsters’ Throwdown and Fleeing Oz are both on sale at Amazon (Paperback and Kindle).

ANNOUNCEMENT:  Third book by author due to launch in three weeks.  Stay tuned!

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REFERENCES

http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/politics/2017/03/trump_s_comey_tweet_was_one_of_his_most_terrifying_lies_yet.html

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/03/20/opinion/all-the-presidents-lies.html?action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=opinion-c-col-right-region&region=opinion-c-col-right-region&WT.nav=opinion-c-col-right-region&_r=0

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/03/21/us/roger-stone-donald-trump-russia.html?action=click&contentCollection=Opinion&module=Trending&version=Full&region=Marginalia&pgtype=article

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/03/20/us/trump-obama-wiretap-comey.html?hp&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=first-column-region&region=top-news&WT.nav=top-news&_r=0

http://www.cnn.com/2017/03/17/opinions/trump-falsehoods-a-national-embarrassment-ghitis/?iid=ob_article_footer_expansion

http://www.cnn.com/2017/03/22/opinions/spicer-problem-with-truth-robbins/index.html

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 
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Posted by on March 23, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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