And sorry I had to swear.

Gag Ordered

I am booted from Facebook for seven days. Apparently it's considered hate speech if I say that 45 caused four years of hate, stupidity and selfishness to overtake America.

I have read far more inflammatory ideas expressed with no repercussions. 

I feel fairly sickened that stupid algorithms can sensor anything I say that doesn't exude Brady Bunch swellness.

So yeah, fuck you, Facebook.

You're full of redundant ads, you seem to cater to pearl clutching bitchwipes, and my blood pressure can use the break.

But fuck you anyway.

Flokati Rugs

They never stop shedding. You could knit a sweater from the yarn you could spin from the fibers flokati rugs spew into a living space. They are like spoiled and lazy pets, lounging about, refusing to stay tidy. They must be groomed.

Nevertheless, I love my flokati rug. It's a small luxury that pays for itself in priceless moments: sitting with family members, laughing over ridiculous games during the holidays. Laying on it with a bunch of toss pillows, reading a good story. Watching reruns of Mary Tyler Moore with my grown daughter, and falling asleep together, and feeling as if time just rolled back twenty years.

Presently Jasper is stretched out, dozing, soaking up heat from the fireplace...his smooth black fur contrasting the cream-colored, unruly pelt upon which he lays. The sun is very bright at the moment, filtering through the foliage of a large schefflera that basks in the window.

Right now life is sweetly peaceful. If the flokati rug were a sentient being, it would be very pleased as well.