And happy Mother's Day in a weird weird world.
Here is your presumably eighth rendition of Mi Mamacita Communista, or Things My Mother Taught Me, which I first wrote for May Day 2008, shortly before the country found its mind and elected the smart nice black guy, and started serializing I guess in 2012, when I bought this joint. Some different things have happened since then! I no longer think Stalin was hilarious, and it turns out Daniel Ortega is not that awesome of a Nicaraguan president, so that's upsetting. Some other things are even more upsetting, like pretty much all of it. Didn't see "global pandemic" coming, or at least not exactly when it did, in the middle of impeaching the criminal president. Who is Donald Trump.
This year, for the first time in my lifetime, and I am a spritely nice grandmother, we can't put on our Marching Zapatos of Occupado Justice. Isn't that a strange how do ye do? This year, protesting is for anti-vaxxers and gun nuts only — they're allies now, along with Johnny Reb! — while the rest of us focus on being okay with just losing a year, and getting through it. It happens sometimes, you lose a year; it just doesn't work out. This guy says every hundred years, the world loses a year together. We're on hold. We're in stasis. I just looked up stasis to make sure I was using it right, and yes, it's a long period of inactivity. It's also civil strife. How did the dictionary know? We'll be fine.
My sweet progressive neighbor stopped by the fence yesterday while we were doing our Mother's Day deck gardening. (Never saw "living in Montana" coming either!) I had my small daughter (didn't expect her too also!) back up a few feet from said sweet neighbor and explained lightly we are "corona-aware." Oh, I'm not, my sweet neighbor said, sweetly, and then explained that she has "heard different things," for instance am I not worried they might be making it up to use a vaccine to chip us? No, honey, they don't need to chip us, I promise. We all have cell phones! She believes in global warming; new diseases can come out of the frozen tundra at any time! It was a gentle two-minute lecture instead of a 10-minute one, to give her something to ponder instead of getting defensive and frozen in place. It's very rare in Montana still, I acknowledged, but it just takes one. I don't think she heard me at all, so now "sweet neighbor who could kill us by breathing on us at any time" is a thing I did not see coming either. Oh 2020, you sly dog, with rabies and the brain worms and some nazis sometimes.
Mi mamacita communista is still in Oklahoma, still has — unaccountably — not been burned for a witch, and had a little bit of cancer these past couple of months. Now she can shoot arrows better, Amazon-styley. She's lonely out in the country. She yells at people in the hardware store if they don't have their masks on, because none of them have their masks on. She has been prescribed a medicine that takes her estrogen away, so she is all testosterone all the time, stone cold yelling at people in hardware stores and, pace Andrew Sullivan, punching God in the face. Appreciate your estrogen is a new lesson she has taught me, still teaching me lessons 47 years later. Love your mother.
And so today is May Day! We can have — or heave! — a cocktail for the working man. We can put on Our Marching Zapatos of Ocupado Justice! We can do lots and loads of things! But me, I'm missing mi mamacita communista. She didn't die or anything, she just retired and moved back to Oklahoma, where they still (unaccountably) haven't burned her for a witch.
These are things my mother taught me.
Sorry, who's calling?
Hey, it's me, and I'm going to ask you for money this month, which I normally never do because I'm normally not Rebecca. We know it's late in the month, but Rebecca felt bad about asking people for their hard-earned stimmy. She's not a common pastor pushing snake oil to suckers. In fact, do you need money? Can we give you some? Rebecca would rather be doing that this month than asking. Or so she claims.
But May's next week and Wonkette is still a seven-day, news and snark machine that has servers and writers to feed. I'm stepping in today because Rebecca might have neck cancer and is feeling PRETTY sorry for her even though I've already tried singing “You'll Never Walk Alone."
my shoulder hurts radiating from the cap down my arm and also in to the neck, so I either have been having a heart… https://t.co/XfIkPD72pb— Rebecca Schoenkopf, Wonkette Editrix, King Of You (@Rebecca Schoenkopf, Wonkette Editrix, King Of You)1587668545.0
Neck and shoulder discomfort are in fact symptoms of a heart attack, but it's probably not a heart attack. It's definitely not a tumor. She's probably working too hard like the lady in Donna Summer's “She Works Hard For the Money" video that made 9-year-old SER cry. “Why is she working so hard? Why can't they let her DANCE!"
How YOU doing?
Hola germs! It has been some time since I jawed at you about what is going on with the Wonkette slush fund gofundme, and whom we have helped lately!
You loves have donated $58,662 to your friends and neighbors. After gofundme's small fee, that's $56,900. We have distributed $53,900 to 85 Wonkers and their families.
And things are slowing down — hopefully because people are (finally) starting to get their unemployment checks, and now stimulus checks. We haven't had that many requests per day lately.
By definition, it's not an 'impulse buy' if you thought it all the way through.
I didn't expect my 40th birthday to begin with a physical challenge. And I didn't expect there to be a second round of the physical challenge an hour later that was timed.
But that is the situation I absolutely created for myself, it is nobody's fault but mine.
Allow me to back up.