Dear Trump (aka Tacolini):
I was at your birthday “party.” It was an accident, believe me. I booked a flight months ago to go to Washington, D.C., for a conference. It was only a couple of weeks ago that I realized I’d be flying in on the day of your vanity parade.
What a waste of taxpayer money. It’s as bad as your weekly golf trips.
Yet we can’t afford cancer research, SNAP benefits, Medicaid, an HIV vaccine, etc.
Sure. 🙄
Anyway.
I’m staying up near DuPont Circle, which was a ghost town. I assumed it was because everyone was still at a No Kings protest or at your thing.
Maybe the former, but certainly not the latter. Admittedly, I got there near the end. (Yes, I went because I’m nosy).
I expected to see a whole bunch of your acolytes. I saw maybe three obvious ones and a couple I suspect.

It seemed … poorly attended. I thought I must be missing something. I had a look at social media to see.


Oooh. That’s got to sting.
Oh, yes. Look at you:

It couldn’t happen to a worse person. I hope you had a terrible day. Sorry, not sorry.
I have never liked you. That’s never been a secret. You are everything people teach their kids not to be: greedy, petty, vindictive, boastful, willfully ignorant, etc.
And your policies actively hurt most people and help only very rich people.
[For people who say I have Trump Derangement Syndrome, and my life is better because of Trump, you can f—- all the way off. I know my life, and it was made worse by this idiot’s policies the first time (taxes, work experiences), and already this second time (work repercussions).]
I mean, look at you already backing off your immigration stance.

It’s only because you realized it was hurting your wealthy friends who employ undocumented workers.
As I was walking around, I was pleased to see a few things, such as these lightpost signs:



And then, I saw this:

There was a significant police presence, but not enough humans around to justify.

I heard some sirens and noise, so I followed the sound and found some people leaving the Washington Monument area.

It was a mix of people leaving the parade plus leftover No Kings. Then I went down the block a bit.





Some chanting, that’s it. Peaceful protest.
I was wearing my “Maybe today, Satan” shirt, but I did not get involved. Frankly, in my heart I know not ACAB, but I saw what enforcement folks did to reporters and regulars in L.A. I have a conference to attend, and I can’t do it from the hospital or jail.

So I left, and I ate a lovely dinner at Nando’s. Did NOT raise a glass to you.
I hope you are miserable knowing that millions of people turned out in cities large and small in the U.S. and abroad to protest you and all those who enable you — your junk drawer of a “Cabinet,” the spineless sycophants in Congress, your donors, and anyone who voted for you and still supports you.

I hope you had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
With no regards,
Beth
























































Escape from … all this #SundayStories
Posted in Home Sweet Home, tagged Bright ideas, Celebrities, Circles of Hell, Comedies, Comments, Complaints, Crushes, Dramas, Emotions, Entitled White Dudes, Feelings, Feminism, Gender expectations, Gender roles, Georgia, Hobbies, Home, Home Life, Hormones, Love, Man Crush, Media, Netflix, Nudity, Objectification, Obsessions, Politicians, Politics, Rage, Reality TV, Rednecks, Seasons, Shocking, Stereotypes, Stress, Stupidity, Suggestions, Television, Tequila, The beach, The South, Trash TV, Trump, TV, Villains, White people, Women on August 16, 2026| Leave a Comment »
Hey y’all. It’s been a while, I know.
I’m not dead. Clearly.
I’m just … gobsmacked at what is happening here (i.e., this freakin’ country) on a daily basis. I can’t even believe it, and I don’t want to write about it. It’s like writing about it makes it more real.
So I’ll write about reality TV instead, my escapism go-to (as you know).
My favorite genre is what one might loosely term “love.” You know: “Love is Blind,” “Temptation Island,” “Too Hot to Handle,” etc.
Pretty twentysomethings cavorting in bikinis stirring up chaos thanks to hormones and underdeveloped frontal lobes.
It’s drama, but it’s not MY drama. And so I can turn off my own frontal lobe and enjoy the show.
Lately, I’ve been plowing through Season 8 of “Love Island USA.” I somehow managed to miss Seasons 3-7 (whaaaat?) and was very surprised to see this host, Ariana Madix, the Temu Catherine Zeta-Jones.
Who is this person? Where did she come from? Why was she chosen? I need someone with a strong personality like Nikki Glaser to be in charge of this thing. I don’t care that Shein Avril Lavigne is a great clothes hanger.
Anyway. This season has all the things I love:
I’m not done with this season yet, but I have enjoyed the heck out of every moment. Kenzie, especially, is good TV. Look at this girl:
Plus, she’s from Kennesaw, Georgia. Of course I’m going to root for her.
I’m having a hard time rooting for Sincere, though, as are the others in the Villa, judging by these reactions to his machinations captured on camera and shared during “movie night.”
Look at that. Priceless.
I’ve got my popcorn. It’s great!
You know whom I’m not thinking about while watching “Love Island?”
One of the best things I’ve noticed since the first two seasons is that the characters have evolved/matured.
I also love the occasional “Aftersun” episodes with Tefi and Ciara. Those are two fun women who seem like they could be my friends.
Yes, I do watch “real” TV too: I’m watching the weekly episodes of “Silo” plus working through “The Four Seasons” and Season 4 of “The Sinner.” There’s only so much of Bill Pullman looking pinched I can take before I need to see a beautiful half-naked person do a “vibe check” with another.
If you want to pull me for a chat about this show or similar trash, drop a comment.
Until then, I’ll be camped out on the sofa enjoying young adult theater.
Love,
Beth
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