aunt aoife and uncle charlie

we watch the Baseless accusations leveled in every direction, like the sophomore spaghetti cooking technique- if it sticks, it’s on. We are watching a toxic relationship coming to an abrupt and public end. The thanksgiving we all dread , when the noisy upstairs neighbors come by to implode during the cheese and cracker course, hurling everything at each other and all, the spaghetti on the wall. How much more of this malarkey do we have to take. As much as this seems to be little more than petulance and preemptive pardon posturing, it is profoundly unsettling as a citizen of the world to witness this litany of gacked out blabbermouths continuously flood the plains with shit, and the media and the goobers and the lefties and the losers, eat this shit up like ants on a log. We are witnessing the speed freaks midnight ramble. The general disdain for decorum is testing my intolerance. I want to scream ‘when is this movie over? Why did you bring me to this bruce willis and mel Gibson dickhead double feature? What did I do to deserve this, besides being born 50 odd years ago in this neoliberal wasteland and not having the good sense to marry that au pair I met at downtown Beirut in 1987, or push the emigration envelope on my own real life future ex marriage. If antifa is such and active and virulent movement ,(in the words of the withering and wanking ruling class and the teletubbies that worship them) where are they now? My guess, eating pirate booty , watching Netflix, trying to stop the spread of covid whilst watching the national tantrum play out. Kicking back and taking names, and writing a living will. Hell hath no fury like an activist who has been scorned. Instead, we wait for the coup cucks clan to receive their marching orders from the Peruvian marching powder puffs. We wait for the proud buoys and police to pillage, to bloody the urban battlefields with their overfunded and overfed fascism. we wait for the next talking head to spew their lies on the idiot box or from the safety of their internet bunkers- keyboard warriors of the new millennia race baiting and straight hating their way through the day. we wait for paid off twitler, the future ex child in chief, to spout his inane invective 140 characters at a time. We wait for the end of the world. We wait for restraint. We wait to hit em where they ain’t.