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2021, YOU GOT SOME ‘SPLAININ’ TO DO…

Cartoon used by permission: 247093_RGB_1290.png 2020 Won’t change by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

Did anybody else lapse on their “dry-wine January resolution” already?  Everybody?  I thought so!  It isn’t even Inauguration Day yet, and I am wishing I had planted a cannabis field in the swamp behind my house when I had the chance.

2021—what a shitshow!  If I had known this year was going to set the stage for the breaking of America, I would have never started a new diet, never started a weight-training program, and never started on my fourth book.  Instead, I would have jumped headlong into hedonism and let the chips fall where they may.  As the Peggy Lee song says, “…if that’s all there is, my friends, then let’s keep dancing. Let’s break out the booze and have a ball, if that’s all there is.”

Cartoon used by permission:  247475_RGB_1290.png Breaking News by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

It almost seems as if we hired the wrong year. 

Does anyone know if 2021 came with references?  I would love to interview Baby 2021, and make sure it is prepared for what is up ahead.  I thought on New Year’s Eve that 2,600 American deaths a day from COVID-19 might be a gargantuan task for the little tyke to overcome, but I figured once we got our new President installed, we’d be able to make 2021 a year of recovery and healing.  And then came the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the unbearable…

Cartoon used by permission: 247294_RGB_1290.png The Patriotic Terrorist by Christopher Weyant The Boston Globe MA

As I watched the insurrection unfold, I started crying.  I don’t know what horrified me more: the brazen murderous hordes trying to overturn a free and fair election or that the mob was being led by White Supremacists masquerading as Evangelical Christians praying for God to bless their invasion to capture, judge, and execute the Vice President, Nancy Pelosi, and other legislators they hated while waving signs that said: “Jesus is my savior. Trump is my president,” “Jesus saves,” and “God’s Word Calls Them Out.”

These haters of liberty—these Christian Dominionists (ideology that America belongs to the Christian god, and only his approved followers are allowed to rule for now until Jesus returns)—were so rabid that one would be forgiven for thinking that the invaders might have been escapees from a mental institution.  Instead, they were pastors, realtors, a Texas florist, the son of a Brooklyn judge, police officers, a professor, a firefighter, a newly elected West Virginia lawmaker, teachers, a couple of misguided Black people, and even kids.

Cartoon used by permission: 247354_RGB_1290.jpg Refile Nuremberg Cartoon Correct Spelling by Bob Englehart PoliticalCartoons com

How could the year 2021 have missed the signs from Donald Trump that he had no plans to ever concede or acknowledge the truth that he had lost? Instead, Trump sent out signals for weeks for the deplorables to come to DC and “stop the steal.”  Trump’s Big Lie that the election had been stolen from him almost upended our democracy and blew up what little bit of our nerves we had left from being tormented by COVID-19.  I reasoned that if this is the way 2021 started, I probably won’t survive until 2022, so I wrote 2021 a letter with a few tips on what is most important to help America triumph in this new year.

Cartoon used by permission: 247639_RGB_1290.png Feeding the fringe by Adam Zyglis The Buffalo News NY

DEAR BABY 2021:

Welcome to the new year!  Everybody is so glad that you’ve arrived.  We could hardly wait to get rid of your predecessor.  Your big brother, 2020, left us with 4 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide—400,000 of them Americans. The sane part of our country was pleased that 2020 helped us elect a new American President to lead us out of the mayhem and madness that Trump world had wrought.  For that reality, most of us will be forever grateful.  However, my expectation was that you, 2021, would help us ascend from the manure pile of the last four years. No offense, but you haven’t gotten off to a very good start.  I realize you are young, but you need to be a multi-tasker, Little Dude, because there are dragons in the land.

Cartoon used by permission: 247115_RGB_1290.png Pressure on Baby New Year 2021 by Jeff Koterba CagleCartoons com

Also, you appear to be soooo naïve Baby 2021.  I think you thought that just by electing a good and just man who was qualified to be President of the United States (Joe Biden), all would be well. And then came January 6th when a bunch of crazy people decided they weren’t going to allow Biden to become President—even if it meant killing their fellow citizens.  Long after Trump is gone, the spirit of the murderous mob will still be going strong and trying to permanently change the patina of our nation.  They are Hell bent on it.

Should you choose to accept being our current year Baby 2021, here is your first agenda item:  You must slaughter the lead dragon.  His name is Deception, and he masquerades as Truth mainly within White Evangelical churches, which acts as a cover for White Supremacy theories, Q-Anon conspiracy theories, and Christian Nationalism. The violent insurrection that happened on January 6th was led by the dragon Deception in the guise of Christianity and patriotism (Nationalism).  On January 6th, Americans lost their innocence as to who we are as a democracy and who our greatest enemies are.  Before Trump, many of us thought we were a multicultural nation where equality and voting were every citizen’s right, and our greatest enemies were international terrorists.  Well, surprise, surprise, surprise!  It looks as if the terrorists are domestic (extremely White), and they blew a shofar (Jewish religious ceremonial horn of a ram appropriated by Christians) as some White “Christian” woman sang “Peace in the name of Jesus…the blood of Jesus covering this place” before storming the Capitol

Cartoon used by permission: 247642_RGB_1290.jpg We have met the enemy by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

Baby 2021, not all the insurrectionists were Christians, but too many of them were, which meant that they had compromised the true meaning of Jesus and Christianity and were being emboldened by the Dragon of Lies.  They were the super glue of Trump’s presidency and stopped hearing anyone else’s voice but Trump’s.  When he said “storm the Capitol,” they replied: “Heil Trump!”  It didn’t matter that they were responding to a lie. It only mattered that they were following their Dominionistic leader’s instructions to keep him in power.

Your assignment is to wake up so-called “Christian” Trumpers to the truth. Their hearts, minds, and actions should belong to Jesus who is the epitome of Truth. The truth is: Trump didn’t win the 2020 election, Trump is not God’s chosen one, Trump is a very, very bad man, Trump is a murderer (over half the COVID-19 deaths are due to his negligence), Trump has lied over 40k times, and in God’s good time, Trump’s “ass is gonna be grass” (don’t know what that means? Ask any Black person over 40).  Baby 2021, do whatever is necessary to open the Christian Trump followers’ eyes. They were so tenacious at the riot because they thought they were doing God’s will, and they had no idea that they were being played by the demon Donald Trump.  I have a theory that if you can open the eyes of this group to the actual truth about the Giant Orange Lie they have been following, you might have a chance in repairing our democracy this year.

Cartoon used by permission: 247438_RGB_1290.jpg Foundations of Democracy by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoons com

In the meantime, there is hope.  There are better angels among us—a majority of Americans who have not swallowed the lie and won’t let the insurrectionists get away with their crimes.  Yesterday those courageous better angels impeached Donald Trump for the second time.  Tomorrow we remember and celebrate one of our most precious better angels who has passed on before us, but who left a legacy of truth, hope, and love:  Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.   That legacy will continue to be fulfilled by the election of our first Black, Indian-American, woman as Vice President, and the election (against all odds) of an extremely qualified, humble man as President who knows what truth looks like.

Cartoon used by permission: 205175_RGB_1290.png Keep Looking Up by Jeff Koterba Omaha World Herald NE

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 247613_RGB_1290.jpg Wisdom for the Right by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

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 January 17, 2021 in Uncategorized

 

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ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS . . .

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: In case you haven’t noticed 2020 has been a real shit show.  I’m so traumatized that I’ve got God on speed dial, and I’m harassing White Santa Claus every hour on the hour for what I want for Christmas.  Below are a few of my petitions sent directly to the North Pole. 

Cartoon used by permission: 246820_RGB_1290.jpg Stuck at home for Christmas by John Cole The Scranton Times Tribune PA

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  All I want for Christmas is my brain back.  A 72-year-old brain is not supposed to handle a pandemic, a lunatic, racist President who is destroying our country, people dying by the thousands per week—including personal friends—families being evicted on a daily basis, me unable to see friends from out-of-town and family for almost a year, threat of a civil war over to mask-or-not-to-mask, and the curse of possibly getting COVID-19 and dying from it due to my age and comorbidities.  I wrestle with insomnia and my brain is threatening to leave home and not return until Jesus comes back or you show yourself to be real.  I’ve never seen evidence of you in my life, you know.  Remember how you never bought me one toy when I was a poor Black child—not one fuckin’ toy?  I admit I wasn’t the best kid, but I wasn’t the worst either.  You try growing up in foster homes and an orphanage, and see how you manage. Do I sound bitter?  Maybe just a little.  Well, now is the time for you to make it up to me. I want you to start giving me presents.  Let’s start with my brain: I want my brain back!

Before I entered 2020, my brain was superb! I played “Hand, Knee, Foot, Canasta” every Monday with a bunch of ladies, wrote three books, and hundreds of stories and essays.  Now my brain has turned to mush, and I’m sure it is due to stress.  This morning, I lined up behind a man in the grocery store who looked like someone I know very well, but since I’ve never had to pick him out of a lineup by recognizing his ass, I wasn’t quite sure if it was my friend or not since we were six-feet apart.  However, I prepared to shout, “Hi—Merry Christmas!” to his back through my two super-duper Israeli masks (I take no chances at the grocery store), but when I opened my mouth, I couldn’t remember his name.  WTF! White Santa Claus, I panicked!  I know this man very well—I know his wife even better, but all I could bring to the forefront of my brain was the first initial of his name: “B.”  Any minute I knew the guy would turn around, and I’d have to address him by name.  Was it Bob, Bill, Ben, Barry, Bryson, Bennett, Brandon, Beau, Blake…? As beads of sweat formed on my forehead and dripped beneath my four-ply masks, he turned around, recognized me, and I went for broke: “Hi, Brody—Merry Christmas, my friend!” My friend didn’t recoil in horror so I must have gotten his name correct.  He greeted me by name (clearly his brain is still intact), and we yelled our commiserations back and forth about how we are both soooooo over 2020.  Whew!

Cartoon used by permission: 246243_RGB_1290.jpg Christmas List by Rick McKee CagleCartoons com

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  The second thing I want for Christmas is for you to capture Donald Trump and take him back to the North Pole with you.  Put him on a strict diet of no cell phone, no social media, no fast food, no sex, no sycophants, no friends, no relatives, no money, no visitors, and no red caps.  In other words, put him in prison.  Keep him there until he repents for the 40,000-plus lies he’s uttered, asks forgiveness to all the women he’s sexually abused, and confesses to all the crimes he’s committed.  Please throw away the key.

Cartoon used by permission: 246467_RGB_1290.jpg My favorite gift by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  Another thing I could use for Christmas is for you to end 2020 the day after Christmas.  Just skip to 2021.  We’ve all had it with this year. This isn’t a deal breaker, but it sure would be nice.

Cartoon used by permission: 246623_RGB_1290 (1).jpg Peace on Earth by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  One more thing I’d like for Christmas: please lobotomize the MAGA people.  While doing so, please clean the wax out their ears and soften their hearts to hear the true message of Christmas.  (It wouldn’t hurt to glue their mouths shut!) I’m sure you’ve noticed that they have been very bad little boys and girls for the past four years and are still misbehaving to the point of trying to engage in a civil war.  Ain’t nobody got time for that, White Santa.  They don’t believe the pandemic is real, they won’t wear masks and social distance, they’re saying that they won’t take the vaccine for the COVID-19, and they think the election was stolen from he-whose-name-I-hope-will-never-be-spoken-after-2020.  I know you tend to have a soft spot for White people, but they gotta go, Dude!

Cartoon used by permission: 246111_RGB_1290 (1).jpg All I want for Christmas by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoons com

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  All I REALLY want for Christmas is to hug my kids, grandson, and sister.  But since I can’t, please bless our Zoom times together, and grant us much joy and laughter.  I’d like to put in my “ask” for next Christmas though:  May my family and I all be together in person on Christmas 2021. Amen!

Cartoon used by permission: 246784_RGB_1290.jpg Christmas Wish by Bill Day Tallahassee FL

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  All I want for Christmas is my two vaccines.  I’m following all the rules and doing all that is necessary to keep others safe as well as myself.  These vaccines are my ability to see family and to travel.  Maybe I’ll even come visit you, Chubby Dude—assuming you’ve received your shots.

Cartoon used by permission: 204440_RGB_1290.png HAPPY BIRTHDAY by Milt Priggee Kitsap Sun

DEAR WHITE SANTA:  What I really, really want for Christmas, I don’t think you’re capable of giving me. In fact, I think even with all your good intentions, you obfuscate the real meaning of Christmas.  The real hope of Christmas is not an obese White man (no offense) who sneaks into houses via chimneys, devours cookies and milk at EACH HOUSE (Seriously? you probably have diabetes something fierce), and uses reindeer-power instead of gas or electricity to get here and there.  No offense, Dude, but I want the true promise of what the birth of Jesus means to all mankind:  peace on the Earth, goodwill to all people, no more hunger, no more strife, love and grace to everyone, no more sadness, no more sorrow, and joy to all!  If you see Jesus in your travels, please let him know that his character and name have been hijacked in 2020 to mean something other than what Christmas should be all about, and we could use a refresher course.

Cartoon used by permission: 246732_RGB_1440.png Bedtime Prayer by Ed Wexler CagleCartoonscom

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

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 December 23, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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OFFICIAL EVICTION NOTICE FOR ONE DONALD J. TRUMP AND HIS RESIDENTIAL DEMONS

Cartoon used by permission: 245464_RGB_1290.jpg Trump Evicted by Bill Day, Tallahassee FL

EVICTION NOTICE

TO:         Loser, Donald J. Trump

                1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

                Washington, DC            

  a.k.a. The White House

Cartoon used by permission: 245558_RGB_1290.png Trump Leaving White House by Bart van Leeuwen PoliticalCartoons com

Pursuant to the provisions of The Constitution, you are hereby given an eviction notice to vacate, on or before January 20, 2021, the premises and appurtenances (all accessories or other items associated with the Presidency such as Air Force One, any helicopters, the military, and the soul of America) that are owned by the People of the United States of America.  Trumpee, you don’t have to go home to Mar-a-Lago, but you can’t stay here.

Cartoon used by permission: 245762_RGB_1290.jpg Mine ALL Mine by Bill Day Tallahassee FL

YOU ARE BEING ASKED TO LEAVE FOR THE FOLLOWING REASON:

A failure to function as a proper president as specified in the Constitution, and as dictated by common sense, tradition, and godly principles.  When you moved into the White House, you had ONE JOB—AND ONE JOB ONLY:  Be presidential.  But you were not.  You neglected the most basic of duties (engaged in golf most of the time, traded conspiracy theories and lies with Fox News hosts, and played footsie with your best pal Putin). Consequently, “rats” were allowed to run amok through the corridors of the People’s House and across the land causing all sorts of damage that may take years to repair. It’s as if your primary motive was to huff and puff and blow the People’s house down if you couldn’t have your own way or make yourself a king forever and ever.

Cartoon used by permission:  246065_RGB_1290.png Light White House Fuse by Ed Wexler CagleCartoons com

You are hereby notified of your right to exit stage left without a public eviction notice, if you want to save face.  All you have to do is concede the election to President-elect Joe Biden, gracefully welcome the Biden/Harris presidency to the White House, and promise to disappear into the sunset on January 20th without another peep or sound from you.  You don’t even have to attend the Inauguration.  In fact, the people who elected Joe Biden prefer you don’t.

Cartoon used by permission: 245940_RGB_1290.png Trump 2020 Snow Globe by Ed Wexler CagleCartoons com

On the other hand, should you insist on not conceding, your landlords (all 80,962,077 of the American electorate) will gladly toss your sorry-ass out on the grass on January 20th.  They are fully aware that the Emperor has no clothes and charge you with willful ignorance, lack of integrity, creating an atmosphere of violence and treason, murdering hundreds of thousands of people due to negligence and mismanagement of the COVID-19 pandemic, and eroding trust in our government with the issuing of 20,000 lies and more (The People stopped counting your lies in October—it became too disheartening). In fact, immediately upon your vacating the premises, we are bringing in a top-notch exterminator.

Cartoon used by permission:  245574_RGB_1290.jpg The Exorcist by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

DONALD J. TRUMP, YOU ARE BEING ASKED TO LEAVE THE PREMISES OF THE WHITE HOUSE ON JANUARY 20, 2020 IN TIME ENOUGH FOR JOE BIDEN TO BECOME OUR 46TH PRESIDENT.  IF YOU DO NOT LEAVE, AN EVICTION ACTION WILL BE INITIATED AGAINST YOU BY THE SECRET SERVICE.  IF YOU ARE IN DOUBT REGARDING YOUR LEGAL RIGHTS AND OBLIGATIONS AS A TENANT IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT YOU CONSULT THE U.S. CONSTITUTION.

NOW GET OUT!!!

Yours in total disgust and disrespect,

80,962,077 of the American electorate

On behalf of the new inhabitant of the White House—

Joe Biden, 46th President of the United States

Cartoon used by permission:  245520_RGB_1290.jpg Inauguration Day 2021 by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission:  246089_RGB_1290.png Second Terminator by Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune MN

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 December 2, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION (a Halloween tale of horror)

(Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore’s “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” for the butchering and ham-handedness of his iconic poem)

Cartoon used by permission: 244465_RGB_1290.jpg Halloween 2020 by Rick McKee CagleCartoonscom

‘Twas the night before the Presidential election, when all through the land,

Not a godly person was sleeping—not a child, woman, or man.

A landslide of votes had been cast for Joe Biden with care,

But folks were nervous that come the new day,

The Trump nightmare would still be there.

Cartoon used by permission: 243693_RGB_1290.png Axing Norms by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

The Democrats were anxious as they snuggled in their beds,

While visions of a Biden win and Senate take-over danced in their heads.

And Pelosi in her Covid mask, and me in mine too,

Had finally calmed our hearts when we heard a loud “BOO!”

Cartoon used by permission: 244669_RGB_1290.jpg  Running mate by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

I wondered in my grogginess, what could be the disaster,

But soon spied a giant Covid spector and his Trump-like master.

Down to my knees I dropped like a flash,

Looked up to the heavens, and screamed: “Lawd Jesus, save po’ America’s ass”!

Cartoon used by permission: 244879_RGB_1290.png Donald Trump Undertakes the Pandemic by Dale Cummings Canada PoliticalCartoons com

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Illuminated the pumpkin-looking man with the Covid-orange glow.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

Trump’s idols, his lackies, and demons of fear.

More rapid than eagles, his flying gargoyles they came,

As he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

“Now Putin! Now Giuliani!

Now Lindsey and Fox News!

Come Hannity, and McConnell,

Come Repubs, and Laura Ingraham too.

“Back into the belly of the Oval Office!

And into the cowardly hearts of the Senate.

Y’all come visit—stay—for 2021 until forever,

‘Cause this Christian-idol mofo is guaranteed to win it!”

Cartoon used by permission: 244350_RGB_1290.png Happy Halloween 2020 by Bart van Leeuwen PoliticalCartoons com

But then in my nightmare, I heard on the roof

A stampede of angelic sandal-clad hoofs.

I ran to the window as thousands flew down

And trampled scary Trump

Into the Halloween ground.

They were led by Archangel Michael—

that champion from stories back in the day

His glorious Halloween costume was

Like a fashionable gay dude from the 1600’s, I’d say.

“Don’t let my outfit fool you,”

he said with a beatific grin.

“No evil is a match for me,

given my sword, wings and fabulous glam trim.”

Archangel Michael by Luca Giordano (1660 – 1665) – The Fall of the Rebel Angels/Public Domain

He spoke a few more words before vanquishing Trump:

“BE NOT AFRAID! The Orange one and his ghouls are a goner.

Tell all your frightened Dem friends

To have hope—Angels’ honor.”

Cartoon used by permission: 244862_RGB_1290.png Election Run by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT


Michael spoke not another word, and went back to his work,

Skewered all of Trump’s demon-pals, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose.

And giving a nod, up to the sky he arose.

His Arch-Angelness hung overhead, and to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew up like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he flew out of sight:

“2020 will not be like 2016!”

“Now calm your faint hearts and have a restful good night!”

Cartoon used by permission: 244884_RGB_1290.png You Are Fired by Marian Kamensky Austria

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 244926_RGB_1290.png Zombie Trump by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

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 October 28, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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DID ANYBODY INTERVIEW THE MIKE PENCE FLY?

Cartoon used by permission: 244252_RGB_1290.png Trading Places by Bart van Leeuwen PoliticalCartoons com

Last week Donald J. Trump lost the election.  You know why I know?  ‘Cause last week I projectile vomited, and I think I did so as a collective exasperated expression of at least 63% of the nation and 80% of the world.

I went to a funeral interment for a friend (at a cemetery, socially distanced, masks required), and I couldn’t even comfort my other friend (his wife) with a hug.  In the midst of my grief as I was leaving the burial grounds, I was made aware of President Trump’s callous, unrepentant, re-emergence onto the scene after his bout with Covid-19 (a sojourn that I hoped would be a come-to-Jesus moment for him).  But no…he had a meeting all right, but judging from the results, it must have been with Satan himself.  It was then that I decided “yesh gvul” (Hebrew for “enough is enough”)—this man had to go.

Cartoon used by permission: 244325_RGB_1290 (1).jpg Trump glorified by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

As you recall, Trump tested positive for Covid-19, but instead of it becoming his “aha” moment of broken-hearted repentance and empathy (as I had prayed) for the hundreds of thousands of people he had caused to get sick and die due to his ineffective handling of the virus, he returned to the White House crazier than ever. Upon hearing his stupid, boastful rantings as I left my friend’s funeral, I got so upset that I projectile vomited all over the inside of a fairly new Lexus (ceiling, steering wheel, windshield and control panel)!  As my husband side-eyed me in abject horror, I continued to vomit into a designer handbag, spew chunks of turkey roll-ups all over his Brooks Brothers suit and his face, all over my cute leather suit and dress boots, down my blouse into my bra, and all over my glasses and new wig.  We drove home in silence, completely covered in slime, as we contemplated the metaphor of “life under the Trump regime” that had erupted from the nether regions of my tummy.

Cartoon used by permission: 244160_RGB_1290.jpg Trump returns to White House by John Cole The Scranton Times Tribune PA

No, I don’t have Covid.  However, I do have Ménière’s disease which is manifested by an intense ringing in the right ear whenever I am stressed out, which causes a wicked case of vertigo that turns my tummy into a tilt-a-whirl.  I can handle most everyday stress—including a funeral or two.  What I can’t handle is our country sliding into Hell for another four years.  I did not have Ménière’s disease before Trump became President—I got it the day he was inaugurated. I’m sure there are scads of other people who have contracted all sorts of stress-related problems since the Orange horror became president.

But I realized something encouraging last week:  The majority of Americans are as sick and tired as I am and are motivated enough to send the Grand Imposter packing November 3rd with a win that will be too big to rig.  I’m seeing evidence that all good-hearted, sane, intelligent people have had enough and they are not going to take it anymore!  I think my vomiting was a sign to be broadcast to the Nation:  November 3rd, purge Trump so that our national nightmare comes to an end!

Cartoon used by permission: 244305_RGB_1290.png Scream At The President by Ed Wexler CagleCartoons com

I’ve been gathering testimonials from the various coalitions who are working day and night to defeat Trump, and I can feel the momentum.  For the first time in years, I have hope! I know Democrats are afraid of falling for another 2016 heartbreak, but this feels different.  (Of course, Trump is trying to cheat every which way but Sunday, but let’s hope and pray his efforts are obliterated.) People are tired of the crazies.  They want normality—dullness even.  They (we) are all tired of stupidity and being led by a reality TV star—we did not audition for this movie. The people of the world (except for Putin, Kim Jong Un, White Supremacists, and White Christian Trump supporters) are tired of vomiting whenever the bloviated Orange one causes the world to tilt with his ineptitude.

Cartoon used by permission: 244307_RGB_1290.png Stop the Crazy by Daryl Cagle CagleCartoon com

Anyway, in order to calm my agitated nerves and tummy the night of the great Vesuvius turkey-roll eruption, I slept with a diffuser that emitted lavender oil fumes.  I must have put too many drops in the little thingamajig because my dreams were hallucinogenic.  I dreamed that I was summoned to the bedside of the fly who occupied Mike Pence’s head for two minutes and nine seconds on the night of the VP debate. It seemed she wanted to alert America about the horrors she had seen being a fly on the wall in the Oval Office and what she gleaned from occupying Pence’s hair. Turns out the fly’s name is BeelzeBUG and she hails from the City of Fraud from the country of Dante’s Inferno 8th circle of Hell.

Cartoon used by permission: 244232_RGB_1290.png Pence fly by Hajo de Reijger The Netherlands

Ms. BeelzeBUG, I was so stunned to hear from your people who asked me to do an interview with you.  They said you had an urgent message for America. More than happy to oblige, but if the truth be known I thought you’d be dead 24 hours after the debate ended.

I am a black fly—not a mayfly, you “nyekulturnik!”  Mayflies live 24 hours; black flies are the superior fly and live as long as twenty-eight days—sometimes longer.  From my calculations, I should have 5 days to go, but it’s probably going to be just minutes given my trauma in the White House and how long I’ve been farting around with you humans.

I’m not a “Russian uncultured lowlife” Ms. BeelzeBUG, but I’ll let that insult slide given your condition. Speaking of condition, shouldn’t you be tripping the light fantastic by visiting copious dunghills and laying tons of eggs inside garbage cans before you have to go back to Hell?  What gives?

I have Covid-19, that’s what the hell gives!  I got it from that kiss-ass, Mike Pence.  I didn’t know this about him before I landed on his head, but his hair is like white sticky fly paper from all the hair spray he uses.  I got stuck and almost died in there.

Cartoon used by permission: 244292_RGB_1290.jpg Shoo fly don’t bother me by John Cole The Scranton Times Tribune PA

Why were you even at the debate?  Were you there to sabotage Kamala?

Initially, that’s what I was sent here to do by Sneaky Snake.  Satan’s a huge Trump supporter.  Surprised? I know you’ve been told that Trump is Jesus’ main man, but that’s a lie like just about everything else in Donny’s life.  Lucifer said, “buzz around Kamala’s ears, fly up her nose, and irritate her until she goes all mad-Black woman on Pence’s ass.  You know, get her to lose her cool.” But after hanging around on the walls of the Oval Office for a few days, I just couldn’t follow through with my mission.  I secretly love your country—best garbage on the planet!  And so much of it, too.  I had to help you out.

I live in the 8th circle, known as the Fraud dimension, which is the part of Hell where most politicians end their journey.  It is where “anyone who has committed fraud against humanity is punished.”  So, I know a skanky politician when I see one.  I came to Earth knowing what a fraud Trump was (the Devil has had his eye on that dude for years), but I was clueless as to the smelly corruption of Pence. Thought he belonged to the other guy in the sky.  But hanging around your VP for a few days, I quickly learned he was as bad or worse than Trump. He’s one sneaky son-of-a-bitch hiding under a pro-life cloak.  Here’s a little known secret:  Pence is auditioning to take Trump’s place if he croaks or to become President in 2024.  I came to the VP debate hall to warn America to pay attention to this man.  He says he’s a Christian, but he certainly doesn’t act like one—he’s a power-hungry fraud!  I was the fly on the wall that watched him for days.  I wanted your voters to know that when you take out his boss, make sure Pence goes down the sewer pipe with him.  Not only is your country’s future at stake, but so is the rest of the world and the planet.  Heaven and Hell needs America to get your shit together.  Go!  Tell everyone who will listen.  This election is not a test.  A fly from Hell saw the handwriting on the wall, and I am afraid—very afraid!

Cartoon used by permission: 244233_RGB_1290.jpg Fly on Pence by John Columbia Missourian

OMG!  The situation is worse than I thought.  I can’t imagine four more years under a Trump/Pence presidency.  Anybody with half a heart and a brain will be projectile vomiting every day out of terror and fear. What are we to do to save ourselves? 

Vote!  Vote as if your lives depend on it because they do!  Now I’m gonna shoo out of here.  Back to Hell which is a lot less scary than what I’ve witnessed in America during my brief visit.  Sayonara, Human.

Cartoon used by permission: 243750_RGB_1290.jpg Who is undecided by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

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 October 14, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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I’M IN LOVE WITH A NASTY, ANGRY, HORRIBLE, DISRESPECTFUL MADWOMAN

Cartoon used by permission: 242362_RGB_1290.png Running mate Harris by Bart van Leeuwen PoliticalCartoons com

“We need more than a victory on November 3rd, we need a mandate that proves that the past three years do not represent who we are or who we aspire to be.”—Kamala Harris, The Future VP of the United States

Needless to say, I am in love!  I didn’t think it was going to matter to me which qualified woman Vice President Biden picked to be his running mate until he picked Kamala Harris.  Granted it was the unveiling of an historical moment, which caused even my very White husband to choke up with tears at the possibilities, but it was also the power and hope I felt rising up in me, my daughters, and my friends as Kamala spoke when she accepted the call to action from Joe Biden. The power with which she so excellently and urgently prosecuted the zeitgeist of corruption, racism, and death against Donald Trump that he has unleashed into the lives of the people in the United States made me stand up and shout “hallelujah!”  As she declared, “The case against Donald Trump and Mike Pence is open and shut,” for the first time I could see a future without Trump, and I felt sure Vice President Kamala Harris was going to help get us there. Maybe even become our first woman president.

I tried to imagine how this chapter of America’s story might be told to our children in 100 years.  I wondered what kind of children’s books would be written about Kamala as future generations looked back on the dystopian country that “nasty” women like her helped save from the very brink of destruction.

A 2120 CHILDREN’S BOOK FOR VERY, VERY SMART CHILDREN

THE MARVELOUS, FANTASTIC, NASTY, ANGRY, HORRIBLE, DISRESPECTFUL, MADWOMEN WHO DESTROYED A LYING KING AND SAVED A KINGDOM by E. Tomczyk

Once upon a time, in a nation that existed a hundred years ago, there lived a people of many ethnicities and races.  It was a vast land that had often see-sawed from murderously grotesque (a misshapen monster of its actual self) to outrageously sublime (the best it could be) in trying to fulfill its pledge of “…one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” 

After hundreds of years of fits and starts after it was born, the majority of the people enthusiastically elected a chocolate leader who seemed to embody the promise and the hope of that great land. Unfortunately, a significant part of the vanilla people who existed within the kingdom and who considered themselves to be the most righteous and loved by God were very, very angry and plotted to make him a one-term leader. They could not see beyond his race and ethnicity and worked night and day to try to destroy him. But no matter what his enemies did, the chocolate leader was greatly loved, admired, and adored by many and led the nation to a better place for eight years.

But as in far too many stories about humans, an evil being arose on the horizon and captured the hearts and imaginations of a majority of the vanilla people (including a few of the chocolate people—I’m not going to lie), and let them establish him as King. He was a bright orange color (similar to a Cheeto), and he came to be known as “The Lying Toddler King.”

Immediately, The Lying Toddler King got on most people’s nerves—worldwide.  He was crude and rude, and he lied when telling the truth would have been so much easier.  Lying was his modus operandi.  There are those who say he averaged 30 lies a day.  Because he had never progressed beyond toddlerhood, he didn’t read, he refused to share, and he demanded to have his own way all the time.

If more knowledgeable adults and court advisors tried to correct The Lying Toddler King, he would shoot nasty words of 280 characters at them and make them very, very afraid.  Most of them would tremble in terror.  Whenever the Lying Toddler King threw nasty blue birds at them, reputations would be shot down, jobs would be lost, and the wounded recipients would crawl back home and hide under their beds. Once Toddler King actually hurled 200 tweets at his kingdom peeps in one day!

“Why in the ‘cuss word’* do you treat the peeps so badly?” a couple of The Lying Toddler King’s sycophants asked at the beginning of his reign.  “Can’t you see that many of them love you; we just don’t think you should say racist, misogynist, perverse things to your subjects or they will become disappointed and vote you out of your toddler kingdom.  Best to keep those things inside your tiny little head or you will scare people.”

“NO! NO! NOOOOO!  I do what I want, you ‘cuss word’ lapdogs.  Don’t you know that my people are so loyal that I can shoot anyone on 5th Avenue and no one would stop me?” boasted The Lying Toddler King.

Three years went by and The Lying Toddler King ruled with impunity (that means he never got put in a “time-out” corner for anything he did that was bad, boys and girls).  But a lot of bad things began to happen on his watch.  Sickness and death.  Injustice and brutality.  Murder and mayhem.  Racism and cruelty.  Destruction and pollution. It got so bad that chocolate and vanilla people joined together to remove the bad king. The women—especially the chocolate ones—had had enough! They picked a grownup vanilla man by the name of Joe Biden who, in turn, picked a chocolate running mate by the name of Kamala Devi Harris to fight The Lying Toddler King and his sycophantic side-kick whose name was Mike Pence (also a man-baby of the pasty white variety).

Kamala Devi—isn’t that an unusual name, boys and girls?  It literally means: “Lotus—goddess of prosperity, good luck, and beauty, which manifests as protective womanhood that is fierce—strong enough to create new worlds but able to destroy those worlds…”  Kamala was the first African-American, Asian-American woman on a major-party presidential ticket in the vast land of our story.  Her mother was born in India and her father was born in Jamaica.  They immigrated to America and Kamala was born in that great land.

Go figurean immigrant and a chocolate woman as well!  This was the Lying Toddler King’s worst nightmare. He immediately became frightened and confused. It was well known that his kryptonite was strong women—especially strong chocolate women.  He sensed that they had the power to eat his lunch. The Lying Toddler King had a giant hissy-fit and pulled a bunch of mean and racist building blocks out of his toy chest to throw at Kamala. “She’s such a nasty woman, I tell you.  NASTY, NASTY, NASTY!” wailed The Lying Toddler King.  “She’s angry and horrible!  I think she’s a madwoman. Did you see how disrespectful she was to Sleepy Joe?  I’m surprised he even picked her as a play-date buddy.  Besides, I heard she doesn’t even belong here among our vanilla people, and the rules forbid her to be one of its leaders.  I heard her parents were born in ‘cuss word’-hole countries.  Somebody better check that out!  Where the ‘cuss word’ is my nukkie?”

The more the Lying Toddler King screamed and yelled, the more women of both chocolate and vanilla colors came together to declare their allegiance to the Biden/Kamala team because for the first time in years, they could see a better world ahead.  Eighty-year-old vanilla women were sending emails to seventy-year-old chocolate women that read: “I’d almost lost hope until I heard Joe Biden picked Kamala Harris as his running mate.  We just might survive, after all!”  Grown chocolate and vanilla men who didn’t fear strong women were high-fiving each other. Chocolate little and big girls burst into tears because for the first time they saw someone who looked like them who was prepared to help bring down The Lying Toddler King and potentially break the most powerful glass ceiling in the land. They made T-shirts that declared: I’M A NASTY, ANGRY, HORRIBLE, DISRESPECTFUL MADWOMAN!  HEAR ME ROAR, MOTHER “CUSS WORD”! The more these women roared, the more The Lying Toddler King became frightened and unglued.  They became known as the NAHDMs throughout the land, and no matter how much The Lying Toddler King tried to cheat, steal, or destroy the election, in the end all the NAHDM women—chocolate and vanilla—stood united and they crushed him and removed him from the throne!

The citizens of that great nation learned their lesson and never elected a baby king to lead them again.  You’ll have to read the sequel to find out whether or not they ever reached their ancestors’ vision to be an ethical and just nation, thus leaving their children a better world.  In the meantime, the moral of this story, boys and girls, is never, ever underestimate a woman—especially a chocolate one.  THE END

(*The use of the word “cuss” instead of actual swear words is a shameless rip-off from the director Wes Anderson, who used this brilliant mode of communication for his animated characters when filming the children’s book “Fantastic Mr. Fox” by Roald Dahl.)

Cartoon used by permission: 242301_RGB_1290.jpg Trump Reacts To Kamala by Bob Englehart PoliticalCartoons com

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

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 August 16, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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ARE YOU YOUR BROTHER’S KEEPER—YOU BET YOUR SORRY ASS, YOU ARE!

Cartoon used by permission: Mask mandate by Bruce Plante, Tulsa World

My pandemic body and mind are messing with my dreams.  In most of my dreams, I’m trying to escape from a frighteningly amorphous “unidentifiable something,” but at other times I have alternate-world movie-dreams that are crystal clear in which I wish would come true (like I’m 30 years old, look like Halle Berry, have the voice of Audra McDonald, and can eat anything I want).  I think these dreams or nightmares have a lot to do with the news I’ve consumed during the day mixed with what I’ve eaten for dinner and how soon I fall asleep after said consumption.

Last night I made the most amazing Keto lasagna sans pasta with extra, extra cheese (keep in mind that I’m lactose intolerant), hot Italian sausage, eggplant slices, and the perfect marinara sauce.  It was the kind of ooey-gooey pleasure that you just know will create demons of indigestion exploding from your butt at the pitch and rhythm of Army taps while setting your esophagus on fire straight up from your tummy to your hair follicles, as visions of cheese balls dance in your head.

I went to bed much too early following my sumptuous repast, but a massive thunderstorm (keep in mind that I am deathly afraid of thunderstorms) settled over my house and rather than pace the floor in terror like a traumatized puppy, I plugged in my sound machine and my iPod featuring endless Barbra Streisand songs, and promptly fell asleep. So it was that I dreamt of a land where the MAGA Christians suddenly woke up as if from a nightmare and all simultaneously burned their red hats in massive bonfires across the land in exchange for bracelets that bore the initials WWJD: What Would Jesus Do?

Cartoon used by permission: 240874  Masks a miracle cure by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoons com

“Ooh, ooh, ooh, I know,” said one very White Evangelical Christian. “Jesus would wear a mask during these times, even as he preached, and be a leader who set an example of the right thing to do for the good of all the people. After all, it was Jesus who said: ‘The second most important command is this: Love your neighbor the same as you love yourself.’”

Another White Evangelical WWJD bracelet wearer chimed in with a Bible verse of love that she seemed to have learned long ago but had forgotten until her head was set free from the tyranny of the MAGA hat—”I am positive that Jesus would wear a mask at all times and encourage all his followers to do so because he said: ‘I can guarantee this truth: Whatever you did for one of my brothers or sisters, no matter how unimportant they seemed, you did for me.'”

“Jiminy-Crickets, why don’t we show America how it should be done?” said a White Evangelical grandma.  “Sugar, we should all wear masks to protect our fellow human beings—our neighbors—our countrymen because wasn’t it Jesus who said: ‘So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.’”

The dream was so sweet and hopeful. Just when I was feeling all kumbaya in my alternate world, a thunder clap woke me at 3:00 a.m. and slammed me back into the real world. It sounded as if the Earth split in half.  Unable to get back to my happy place dream, I got out of bed, made myself a cup of tea, and checked the news feed on my phone:

“The one area where white evangelicals fall far behind? Mask wearing. A white evangelical under the age of 35 is 13 percentage points less likely to wear a mask in public than the same age group in the general population (58.7% vs. 71.8%).”—Christianity Today.

“…in America, not wearing a mask has become a political statement — and it’s a statement increasingly being made by avowedly devout Christians.”—Anthea Butler/Think

Cartoon used by permission: 241088 Maskless Bob by Monte Wolverton Battle Ground WA

Unable to go back to sleep, I googled what MAGA folks (80% of them Evangelical Christians) were doing to save the most vulnerable among us. Maybe my dream was prophetic.  Maybe they would ignore their toddler king and do the right thing—once and for all.  But what I found of their reported actions was not WWJD but WWSD: What Would Satan Do?

“I got every fuckin’ right to not wear a mask,” said a Costco customer who was asked to leave the store for not obeying their rule of “no entry without a face mask.”

Security guard (father of eight) at a Michigan Dollar Store was killed after he asked a woman to leave the store for not wearing a mask.  She left and then returned with her husband and her son and shot him dead.

Old man in a Dollar Store rubbed his snotty nose and rheumy face on the shirt of a store employee just for spite after she asked him to put on a face mask.

The Utah County Commission postponed a meeting on masks after scores of protesters packed the room—wall to wall—without wearing masks as a massive human “FU” to the commission’s mere discussion of wearing masks to protect their neighbors (isn’t this Mormon country?).

A female clerk was punched in the face three times when she told a male customer she couldn’t sell him cigarettes unless he put on a mask.

Georgia governor (anti-mask Trump sycophant) started a mask war against Atlanta’s mayor (pro-mask wearing Covid-19 survivor) by suing the mayor and the city council when the mayor requested all citizens of Atlanta wear masks to protect their family, friends, and neighbors.

Cartoon used by permission: 239371 Face Masks by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

“What a world!  What a world! What a world!” I groaned.  Before I knew it, the sun had risen and my husband strolled into the kitchen for breakfast.  After kissing me good morning, he asked, “So how’s your ass?”

“What? How’s my ass? That’s a weird question,” I replied. 

“No, it isn’t.  I’ve been awake since 3:00 a.m. because you let off the loudest fart I’ve ever heard.  Not only was it loud but it seemed endless. (Don’t even get me started on the smell.)  In fact, I didn’t know that such a powerful sound could come out of a human being’s butt. Isn’t your a-hole in excruciating pain? I am amazed you’re able to sit on your bottom.”

“That was not a fart at 3:00 a.m., that was a massive thunder clap from the heavens,” I said.

“It was a massive thunder clap all right—straight out of your ass. It woke me up.  I half expected to look up and see you floating at the top of the bedroom ceiling.  If that had been the case, I have no idea how I would have gotten you down.  You know it was that double-cheese, veggie Keto lasagna, in case anyone is in doubt, Ms. Lactose-intolerant Lady.  So for the sake of your ass and your fellow-man (a.k.a. your husband), you might want to put that recipe on the trash heap marked: ‘The end of ET’s love affair with cheese.’  After all, what did Jesus say: ‘So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them…’  Time to give up the cheese, Babe!”

Cartoon used by permission: 240662 The End Is Near by Rick McKee CagleCartoons com

“At long last, we have made a truly game-changing scientific breakthrough in preventing the spread of COVID-19.  We have found a disease-control tool that, when used properly, can reduce transmission by somewhere between 50% and 85%.  The tool is cheap and remarkably low-tech.  You can even make one at home.” —The Power of Masks by Gavin Yamey/Time magazine

Cartoon used by permission: 239295 Mask Hamlet by Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune MN

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

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 July 25, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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MY BLACK SKIN IS MY SIN

Cartoon used by permission: 239571 Birth Target by Bill Day Tallahassee FL

I am 72 years old.  I am Black. I am heartsick.  I am tired.  I am horrified.  I am scared.  I am mortified. I am enraged!  I am undone.  I am hopeless….

This has been my state of mind since the murder of George Floyd, and I feel like I’m sitting Shiva for our country because it finally hit me that all the work I’ve spent my life pursuing toward racial harmony has pretty much come to naught.  Actually, the “Karen” story (Amy Cooper) about the White woman who tried to destroy an innocent bird-watching, Harvard-educated Black man’s life sent a dagger through my heart and dropped me to my knees.  The George Floyd story just finished me off!  The “Karen” story didn’t happen in Mississippi, it happened in New York City.  She wasn’t an old fart set in her ways, she was young.  Ms. Cooper probably worked with African-Americans, maybe even socialized with them. She keeps shouting to the world that “I am not a racist,” and yet, when politely asked to obey a law she was breaking by someone who was Black—rather than complying—she weaponized her White privilege against an innocent man by falsely accusing him of assaulting her.  At the very least, she could have ruined his reputation and his livelihood, but at the very worst, she could have gotten Christian Cooper (no relation) killed by the cops who would have come running with guns blazing to protect this White damsel in distress.

“Nothing’s changed,” I said to my White husband whom I’ve known and loved for almost 50 years.  “Sure, you and I were ‘allowed’ to get married a decade or so after Loving vs. Virginia struck down the miscegenation laws in America, but the plight of my people has been two steps forward (Emancipation), three steps back (Jim Crow Laws), four steps forward (Civil Rights Act), five steps back (Police brutality and White Supremacy Terrorism)…it always seems that Black folks come up short when the math is tallied regarding equality and justice.  You know what the problem is, don’t you, Honey?  It’s slavery!  To coin a phrase from Van Jones, ‘Our Black skin is our sin’ and systemic racism started from the moment we were dragged onto American soil as chattel.  The institution of slavery gave even the lowest form of White man (unintelligent, KKK’er, whip-yielding, gun-toting, racial terrorist) a license to reign over us and left the most excellent of Black person (educated, honorable, God-loving, hardworking, peace-loving) with a target on his/her back.”

“As a White man, what do you have to say about that,” I said to my husband.

“Just listening,” he replied.

Cartoon used by permission: 239715 George Floyd by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

My poor, sweet husband.  The thing is that I know he listens because he is one of the good guys—what the Jews used to call “Righteous Gentiles”—non-Jewish people who risked their lives to help Jews escape the Nazis.  In my case, his children’s case, our grandson’s case, and our Black friends’ cases, he is a “righteous White man” who tries to understand the racism that plagues African-Americans.  But he is still a White person.  Still endowed with certain “inalienable rights.”  And as I mused about how closely connected in spirit the false accusation of Amy Cooper was to the killing of George Floyd, I realized that both situations happened because White people thought they could get away with their actions because of their entitlement—the law be damned.

Consequently, I decided to invite a couple of other “righteous White people” over for a “social distancing bring-your-own-drinks—but go home if you have to pee—cocktail hour” on my very large wrap-around deck.  We sat six feet apart while we caught up on our lives, and had a conversation about race—three White people and me. 

Cartoon used by permission: 239755 Our own worst enemy by Dave Granlund PoliticalCartoons com

(For the purposes of this story my “Righteous White friends” will be called Joe and Meg.  My husband will be referred to simply as “WW—White and Wonderful.” This is only a snippet of a much longer conversation.)

ME:        Hey you three, what does it mean to be White?

WW:      Watch out, everything you say to her will probably end up in a blog.

MEG:     I don’t know…I can tell you that I know that I can’t possibly know what it means to be Black, no matter how hard I try.  I’ve never walked in your shoes.

ME:        Excellent politically correct answer, Meg, but it still doesn’t answer my question.

JOE:       I’m not White, I’m Jewish! 

ME:        Of course you’re White.  You’re an Ashkenazi* Jew.  If you were a Sephardic** Jew, I might cut you some slack.

JOE:       I’m just sayin’, I’ve suffered racism. Oy, how I’ve suffered.  I’m fine until certain people find out I’m Jewish, and before you know it—I’m dealing with anti-Semitism.

ME:        I’m not denying that, but for the sake of this discussion, you’re White.  You know why?  You can blend in and no one would ever know you were Jewish.  My skin color announces my Blackness as soon as I enter a room.  In fact, there have been times when I’ve been promised rental properties over the phone or set up business arrangements via email and White people assumed by my “articulate” speaking voice and excellent grasp of the King’s English that I was White.  But the minute they laid eyes on me, I lost said rental property with the bold pronouncement: “Oh, I thought you was White.  You sounded White on the phone.  You need to know we don’t rent to niggers in this town.”

MEG:     She’s right Joe.  Have you ever been chased by White people when you jog or ride your bike?  Have you ever been denied a place to live?

ME:        We’re getting off topic here.  One of you three White people tell me what it means to be White so I can go get me some of that.  I’m tired of the struggle.

Cartoon used by permission: C Clamp Racism by Bill Day, Tallahassee, FL

MEG:  Well, being a WASP is what being White means to me.  I’m about as White Anglo-Saxon Protestant as they come.  There is not a shred of color anywhere in my background.  I’m ashamed to say that the racism in my family was blatant.  I’ve tried my entire adult life to overcome it.  I also think everyone is just a little bit racist though.

ME:        True, but for the sake of this discussion, it’s about racism against Black people.

WW:      I’m a direct descendant of Governor Bradford of the Mayflower.  Got the papers from the Daughters of the American Revolution to prove it.  I was always told I could be anything I wanted to be because I came from that stock—even President of the United States.  I never thought of it as White privilege, it was just what I could aspire to if I wanted it.

ME:        Yeah, don’t I know it.  His mother has been dead for ages and she is still rolling over in her grave because WW married me instead of a White girl.  Talk about Black skin being my sin.

MEG:     That’s it.  I guess being White means being part of the status quo and never having to think about “fitting in.”

JOE:       I’m Jewish…I think about not fitting in all the time.

MEG:     But if you didn’t tell anyone you were Jewish…it’s not the same burden.

WW:      Maybe that’s it: Being White means you get to assume, presume, and expect certain rights and privileges.  You think your life is supposed to be whatever you want it to be because you are a White male, especially.  When that doesn’t happen, it often comes as a total shock.  For instance, when I was out of work for four years, the worst part of it all was the despair of my dreams deferred.  This was not supposed to happen to me.  I kept telling God and Eleanor that this sure is a waste of a perfectly good White boy!

ME:        And what did I tell you?

WW:      “Get over it.  Now you know how the Black man feels.”

MEG:     I’m not so sure it is relevant what it means to be White to White people if we want to solve racism in America.  I think if we are human we need to listen to the stories of the pain and fear that Black people are experiencing and learn from it without getting defensive about being White.  It’s not really about us.

ME: Well, it kind of is…

Cartoon used by permission: 239646 The Flame by Bill Day Tallahassee FL

WW:      I think that’s the key: Listening and absorbing the stories.  Sometimes I think our entitlement and privilege keep us from hearing the stories about people who aren’t like us. People in general are terrible listeners. Those histories of the African-American journey since 1619 are there to teach us, if we just listen and work to bring about the needed changes.

ME:        I know what it means to me to be Black.  It means never feeling completely comfortable or totally accepted.  Being Black to me means always being on guard because some White person feels he or she is entitled to hoist a Confederate flag in my community—all the while claiming they are not racist—“It’s just my heritage.”  It’s always making sure I’m not perceived as the “angry Black woman” to White people as I respond to that gun-toting White Supremacist that the goddamn Confederate flag is my heritage too—a heritage of bondage, enslavement, and terror and it needs to burn in Hell, not be flung in my face.  I can never, ever relax.  My Black skin might scare them if I’m too demonstrative—too passionate about a subject. Too anything! Remember Honey in our early Jesus freak days how some White Christian chick told me that my Afro offended her, and I needed to get rid of it because she thought I looked like a Black radical and that freaked her out?  Good grief.  This chick was supposed to be my sister-in-Christ for Christ’s sake. Ride or die for Jesus and all! 

WW:      I loved that Afro on you.  Talk about sexy!

ME.        Focus Babe.  I think the thing that chilled me to the bone this week is that it doesn’t seem to matter how much education a Black person has, how much money, how much status, how much talent, how innocuous our activities—our skin color can get the police called on us by any entitled White person—just because they can.  We are rarely given the benefit of the doubt.  Remember how Professor Henry Louis Gates Jr., Harvard’s most prominent scholar of African-American history, got arrested by a Boston policeman for entering his own house?  You know, he’s the guy who helps celebrities find their roots, right?  President Obama held a beer summit with Biden, Gates, and the cop to smooth things over.  Conservative talk radio and Fox News trashed Obama about it for years.  Well, we know now that Gates and that policeman became friends.  In fact, the policeman gave Professor Gates a sample of his DNA, and the two of them turned out to be distant cousins and share a common Irish ancestor.  (So take that and shove it up your ass, Fox News.)

WW:      Maybe that’s the answer to the beginning of healing for our country from racism.  Maybe if we as White people recognize our privileges and entitlements and stop clinging to them, then we could seek out what connects us as human beings with all people of color.

ME:        And WORK, WORK, WORK together to change policies, and laws, and institutions…

CONVERSATION ON RACISM TO BE CONTINUED…

*Ashkenazi Jew: originally from Eastern Europe, Germany, Russia

**Sephardic Jew: originally from Spain, Portugal, Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia

Cartoon used by permission: 239837 History Quiz by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Lest you think I’m being hyperbolic comparing Amy Cooper’s false accusation to the policemen’s heartless murder of George Floyd, I find that the demonic spirit of both comes from the same well-spring—racism.  Our history is replete with these nightmares that haunt African-Americans on a daily basis.  Here are just a few:

1891 Joe Coe’s lynching—Lizzie Yates, a 5-year-old, said she was raped by a Black man.  Coe was a railroad porter, husband and father of two.  Witnesses vouched for his upstanding character and whereabouts on the day in question. Many years later Lizzie Yates confessed she had lied.

1921 Tulsa Race Massacre—Sarah Page accused a Black teen of assaulting her, which later on proved not to be true.  Dozens of Black people were killed, hundreds were injured and thousands were left homeless or displaced.  Greenwood (affectionately known as the Black Wall Street) was home to scores of lawyers, teachers, preachers, bankers, and business owners. The entire town of Black residents was burned to the ground by Whites (nationally renowned Black surgeon A.C. Jackson—the best in the nation—was gunned down while standing on his front porch trying to cooperate with the attackers).  What wasn’t burned was confiscated.  It has been recorded that for years afterwards the once wealthy Black women of Greenwood saw their jewelry worn with prideful abandonment by White women who passed them on the streets of Tulsa, Oklahoma.

1923 Rosewood massacre—Fannie Taylor accused an unidentified Black man of assaulting her (accusation proved to be a lie—she was having an affair with a White lover who beat her). Many of the Black people in the mostly Black township were massacred by White Supremacists and Rosewood was obliterated.

1931 Scottsboro boys’ trial for rape—Victoria Price and Ruby Bates (suspected of prostitution, they tried to escape potential morality charges by accusing nine black teenagers [age 13 – 19] of raping them on a train). The women were examined by a doctor but no evidence of said rapes were found.

1955 Murder of Emmett Till—Carol Bryant accused 14-year-old Emmett of whistling at her and flirting (a few years ago—6 decades later—Bryant admitted to falsely accusing Emmett and said: “nothing that boy did could ever justify what happened to him”).  Emmett was beaten, mutilated, shot in the head, and thrown in the Tallahatchie River after being bound to a 70-pound cotton gin fan. He was discovered three days later.  His face was so disfigured his own mother couldn’t recognize him.  The killers were acquitted, although they subsequently boasted to Look Magazine (for thousands of dollars) that they were responsible and proud of it.  After his death, Emmett Till became an icon of the civil rights movement.

DEAR WHITE PEOPLE:  If you are wondering why you should read about these horrors (after all, you didn’t commit them—no one you knew was involved in these crimes—you weren’t even alive for the majority of them)—think again.  I challenge you to listen, learn, and absorb these stories and many, many more. Unfortunately, there are too many to list here. But that is what the Google machine is for.  Search out these stories, not only to appear “woke,” but to gain an understanding of why traveling through life with Black skin can truly be misinterpreted as the mark of Cain by many a White person who will swear on their mother’s grave that they are not racist.

Cartoon used by permission: 239607 The Death of George Floyd by Jeff Koterba Omaha World Herald NE

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival:  “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

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 June 2, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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SNAPSHOTS FROM THE CORONAVIRUS EDGE

“Over more than two centuries, the United States has stirred a very wide range of feelings in the rest of the world: love and hatred, fear and hope, envy and contempt, awe and anger.  But there is one emotion that has never been directed towards the US until now: pity.”– Fintan O’Toole/Irish Times

Cartoon used by permission: 238269 Quack Prez by Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star, Tribune MN

I haven’t blogged in weeks.  I can’t.  I’m in a state of shock!  I’ve been frozen in place like Lot’s wife ever since I heard Trump announce that I could blast my insides with ultra-violet light and drench my innards with bleach, Lysol, and the likes of 409 Multi-surface cleaner to cure myself of COVID-19 should I unfortunately come down with the virus.  I can’t say my response to Trump’s inane declaration loudly enough that has been careening through my head for days on end:  WHAT THE FUCK!?!

Cartoon used by permission: 238543 Trump Wacky Package by Dave Whamond, Canada PoliticalCartoons.com

It is clear that a madman dwells in the White House, and not only is he trying to kill me, but his ineptitude in handling this pandemic is making me disoriented and possibly mentally ill.  I noticed it just the other day.  A series of unfortunate events happened last week that make me wonder if President Trump, along with polluting TV Land, has released a “mental virus” in the water and the air that will slowly drive us all crazy as we self-isolate, scurrying to and fro behind our masks, so he can dismantle our government brick by brick without much resistance. 

PHOTO CREDIT: E. Tomczyk/Coronavirus Times

PANDEMIC POOPS

Something has happened to my bowels.  I can’t stop shitting my pants when I hear Trump’s voice, read what idiotic things Trump says, or think/talk about Trump.  It’s like clockwork.  Trump opens his mouth, I feel the need to poop.

According to Kate Bratskeir of Huffington Post:

 “If you’ve noticed changes in your bowel movements over the past month or so, you might be wondering why this biological function—that often comes like clockwork—has decided to get weird.”

She says I “might be experiencing what we can call nothing else besides a ‘pandemic poop.’”

(Shit!)

Cartoon used by permission: 238263 Quack in chief by John Darkow, Columbia Missourian

I AM SLOWLY GOING CRAZY, ONE TWO THREE FOUR GOING CRAZY…

It’s been eight weeks since the shutdown, and I noticed that I have what some doctors are calling quarantine fatigue accompanied by coronavirus anxiety.  It is affecting me in all manner of ways—especially my memory.  I never know what day it is from sunup to sundown except for Friday.  That’s when the garbage man comes.  If it’s garbage day, it must be Friday.  If my garbage man should go on strike in the future, I’ll be screwed.  A psychologist friend thinks it is because I no longer do anything to bookend my days or break up my week.  I am in a constant loop of the same ol’ same ol’…

It keeps getting worse.

Ten days ago I did some cleaning and gardening. I took off my wedding rings so that they wouldn’t get damaged. Yesterday I realized I never put my rings back on.  When I went to do so, I couldn’t remember which hand wedding rings are worn on.  I had to resort to the best solution I knew to find the answer:  “GOOGLE: WHAT HAND IS THE CORRECT ONE TO WEAR WEDDING RINGS?” 

OMG!!  (You know the first thought that crossed my mind, right?)

A sympathetic friend told me that what I was experiencing was not Alzheimer’s—it was just coronavirus anxiety.  She said, if I was coming down with Alzheimer’s, I wouldn’t have remembered what the rings were for in the first place or that I was even married.  That was a good thing because shortly after speaking with her my husband walked into the room and wondered why my wedding rings were sitting on the counter and not on my finger.  Oy.

I blame it all on Trump.  I had just watched the morning news and watched him push three conspiracy theories and underscore four of his hate tweets against anyone who spoke truth. If he had not failed at his job from the very beginning (too much golf, watching the news, and rage tweeting), I would have been playing canasta with my gal pals (if it’s canasta it must be Monday) and known what finger my rings should be on because I could have simply glanced at my canasta partner’s hand.

Cartoon used by permission: 238383 Normal longing by David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star Tucson, AZ

I MISS MY BABIES AND MY BABY’S BABY

We are supposed to have a family reunion July 4th weekend in Seattle. I don’t think it’s going to happen. I know it isn’t. One coronavirus model shows a leap to 200,000 infections/3,000 deaths a day by June. I haven’t cancelled the plane flights yet, but it is inevitable we won’t go. It will be too risky to travel on a plane that far—especially as a vulnerable COVID-19 individual (this monster is disproportionately eating up Black lives as if we were a lion’s afternoon snack). I “Zoom” with my children and grandson most every week, and I know I should be grateful. I find myself clinging to their every word and sad when the Zooming ends. If we miss a week, I seem to slip into a mild depression. Their effervescent laughter makes my heart percolate and rejuvenates me. Normally, I am really grateful for the technology that can put us face-to-face, but as Mother’s Day approaches I guess I am painfully aware that I haven’t hugged my babies and they haven’t hugged me since last year. It hurts—it really hurts. (Who ever thought hugs would become one of the most precious and sacred gifts in the world.) What is even worse is that I haven’t kissed and hugged my grandson since Christmas. In our “new normal,” how long will it be before we can all be together as a family? What if one of us gets struck down by COVID-19 between our Zoom sessions? My heart breaks in missing and longing for my family—to sit with them, to hold them, to snuggle with them, to kiss their precious faces, to stroke their hair.

But then my God reminds me…

The hearts of the mothers of the nurses and doctors who have died fighting the good fight on the front lines of the coronavirus on our behalf would give anything to “Zoom” with their kids just one more time.  Of the 70,000+ Americans who have passed from this horrid pandemic, if their mothers are still alive, I know their hearts are breaking beyond belief this Mother’s Day.  The “new normal” for these mothers is something that I can’t even begin to fathom.

So I will stop whining and wait patiently for the kids to Zoom me this weekend.  (Oh yeah, if the kids are Zooming me, it must be Sunday—it must be Mother’s Day.)

Cartoon used by permission: 238635 Mother s Day 2020 by Dave Whamond, Canada PoliticalCartoons.com

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival:  “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

Cartoon used by permission: 238389 Patron St. of Hopeless Presidents by David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star Tucson, AZ

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 6, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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GIFTS OF HUMOR IN A HUMORLESS TIME

I’ve always been a human being who could find humor in the worst of situations and times, which is one of the reasons I think my childhood did not drive me mad.  This week, as I mourned a friend who had passed from the coronavirus and prayed for two of my friends and two of my enemies who were stricken by this curse, one of the tools that helped me through the morass was finding humor in unexpected places.  Like receiving my carefully planned and expensive DIY pedicure equipment from Amazon (complete with top grade foot soaker and massager and lavender-scented Epsom salts) only to discover I can no longer reach my feet due to my 71-year-old chubby-ass body.  A bougie problem, I know!  Nevertheless it is a problem for me since my husband has not volunteered to give me a pedicure and probably never will.  We’ve all been affected by this pandemic, whether by mere inconvenience or debilitating loss—personally and financially.  Obviously, I’m still in the “inconvenienced” category by the grace of God.  I know this.  I am grateful, but I still need to laugh or I’ll turn into a ball of rage because I blame everything from my friend’s death to my inability to maintain my diva nails and toes on one person and one person only:  Donald J. (“I don’t take any responsibility”) Trump!

Cartoon used by permission: 237420 Incompetent Trump by Bob Englehart PoliticalCartoons com

As I contemplated the absurdity of having seven out of my ten throbbing fingernails wrapped in Band-Aids (the result of trying to perform a DIY acrylic nail removal which gave birth to four punctured fingers and three torn nail beds), my sister-in-law sent me a list of coronavirus laugh lines entitled “Effects of the Coronavirus.”  Actually, she got them from her husband who was sent them by his old college roommate, but when I Googled them the published source turned out to be Chuck and Anne Norwood from The Laurinburg Exchange in Scotland County, North Carolina.  Chuck and Anne say these coronavirus laugh lines are not originally from them but were sent in by a reader who collected them from God knows where.  If these coronavirus quotes turn out to be the brain children of some of America’s gazillion wonderful comedians, please forgive me for not giving you the proper credit…blame it on the COVID-19 insanity or the mind-numbing pain emanating from my bleeding fingers that is slowly eroding my cerebrum and my well-being.

EFFECTS OF THE CORONAVIRUS

Cartoon used by permission: 236678 Here’s toilet paper by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

“I used to spin that toilet paper like I was on Wheel of Fortune. Now I turn it like I’m cracking a safe.”

“Classified Ad: Single man with toilet paper seeks woman with hand sanitizer for good clean fun.”

Cartoon used by permission: 237317 Almost Time To Eat Again by Ed Wexler PoliticalCartoons com

“Half of us are going to come out of this quarantine as amazing cooks. The other half will come out with a drinking problem.”

“I need to practice social-distancing from the refrigerator.”

“PSA: ‘Every few days try your jeans on just to make sure they fit. Pajamas will have you believe all is well in the kingdom.’”

“Quarantine Day 5: Went to this restaurant called THE KITCHEN. You have to gather all the ingredients and make your own meal. I have no clue how this place is still in business.”

Cartoon used by permission: 236749 NATIONAL COVID 19 school closings by John Cole,The Scranton Times Tribune PA

 “HOMESCHOOLING REPORT, FAMILY OF THREE—ONE ADULT, TWO KIDS: ‘Homeschooling is going well. 2 students suspended for fighting and 1 teacher fired for drinking on the job.’”


“Day 5 of Homeschooling: One of these little monsters called in a bomb threat.”

“Day 6 of Homeschooling: My child just said ‘I hope I don’t have the same teacher next year’…. I’m offended.”

Cartoon used by permission: 237299 Upside to lockdown by John Darkow Columbia Missourian

“This morning I saw a neighbor talking to her cat. It was obvious she thought her cat understood her. I came into my house, told my dog—we laughed a lot.”

 “I’m so excited—it’s time to take out the garbage! What should I wear!?!”

“I hope the weather is good tomorrow for my trip to Puerto Backyarda. I’m getting tired of Los Livingroom.”

“Still haven’t decided where to go for Easter—The Living Room or The Bedroom”

Cartoon used by permission: 237093 Easter Bunny Covid 19 safety by Dave Granlund PoliticalCartoons com

Happy Easter and Happy Pesach everyone!  Wishing you all bountiful gifts of gratitude, kindness, and comfort of heart as we reflect on the miracle of Passover and the hope of the Resurrection of Christ. Stay well.  Stay safe. Stay kind because we are all in this journey together.

Cartoon used by permission: 237469 The Promise by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer.  In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!).  Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival:  “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.”  Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker.  If you don’t believe me, just ask her!

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.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on April 8, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

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