Open Sesame

I am so over this lockdown quarantine bullshit, and am ready for the US to open again. Since I’m in Las Vegas, I’m going to direct this toward our worthless governor for whom I certainly did not vote (and who I think should be recalled, but let’s save that for another post, shall we?!)

That said, President Trump has given guidelines as to when states should open, and many like Texas, Florida, and Utah have already started. Note that these are states with republican governors. Businesses are starting to open, outdoor recreation areas are open, people are getting out and getting sun and exercise and haircuts and other things that humans do because of this overblown, over-hyped FLU BUG (yes, COVID-19 is not even as serious as the flu.)

But there are also those draconian tyrannical commie POS governors who have strengthened mandates while expecting their constituents to kowtow at their smelly corrupt feet.

Now, the CDC in its (lack of) infinite wisdom, has added a slew of additional symptoms to the fever, cough, and trouble breathing “trademarks” of COVID-19. Let’s examine them. Headache, sore throat, chills, muscle pain, repeated shaking, new loss of smell/taste, sneezing, diarrhea, bunions, insomnia, and acne. Okay, okay, I added the last five, but seriously, folks. Oh look, let’s add more FLU symptoms to the fucking FLU. A pulled neck muscle?! Muscle pain and headaches. Uh oh, now you have COVID-19. Bullshit!! What about those with chronic migraines? Headaches, voila! What about allergies (from which I suffer)? Sneezing. Oh no!

My point is that this ongoing lockdown is ridiculous and completely unnecessary just like the sheep who continue to wear their little masks and gloves. First of all, as I already informed you all, masks don’t do shit. Especially when people wear them wrong and take them on and off with dirty hands. Good grief. And, didya know that heat KILLS the virus. It’s 100 fucking degrees here in Sin City already. Hey, the virus is dead. Stop wearing your stupid masks outside or in your 140-degree car.

Monitored entry into stores, requiring masks, tables between the public and the chickenshit tellers, and one-way signs on the floors are also laughably ludicrous.

Another point on the masks: some businesses require patrons to wear them. Hey, guess what? That’s unconstitutional. I have never worn a mask, nor will I, and if a business requires it, then I’ll go elsewhere.

These restrictions (ahem, pay attention Governor Sisolak) are so unconstitutional that Attorney General Barr has directed prosecutors to prosecute violators. Governors who overstep their boundaries and act like they are God are going to get theirs, and I hope sooner than later because I need a fucking haircut and color already.

Defining “Essential”

Throughout this whole coronavirus mass hysteria isolation “thing,” I’ve been going a little stir crazy (okay, a lot crazy) sitting at home. So much so, in fact, that my mind starting wandering (never a good thing) toward tidbits I wouldn’t have ordinarily thought.

One of them is what, exactly, constitutes an essential and/or non-essential business.

Here are my thoughts.

First of all, my tanning salon is an essential business. I haven’t been this white since I lived in snow country. Not only does sporting a nice bronze tan make me feel (and, undoubtedly, look) healthier, but the blast of rays boosts my Vitamin D levels and reduces my depression. Despite living in Las Vegas, I don’t have the privacy to tan outdoors in the manner to which I am accustomed while in a private bed, not to mention it’s already getting ridiculously hot and I don’t want to spend hours in the sun when a quick 12-minute session is all I need. Yes, I know I know it’s bad for me, but done responsibly with appropriate pre- and post-tan skincare, the potential dangers are mitigated. I’ve been tanning for YEARS and don’t look like some wrinkled, middle-aged, leather sofa. So there.

Secondly, even though there are DIY hair coloring options, I can’t trim my own hair. I’ve tried in the past and ended up resembling my fourth-grade school photo with a choppy, uneven, mom-used-craft-scissors ‘do. So, while I am able to cover my graying roots and maintain my lovely brunette hue, I desperately need a trim. The same goes for my boyfriend whose head is getting puffy from all the hair he desperately needs cut but won’t let me near with scissors. Hey, I can trim other people’s hair, just not my own. Chicken.

Next, why in the hell are city, state, and national parks, beaches, and other outdoor public recreation venues closed? Amidst the ad nauseum spate of bullshit social distancing “guidelines,” nobody is going to catch the virus outside. It’s not floating around waiting to invade (which is why I laugh hysterically at those sheep who insist on wearing masks and gloves while outside.) Good grief, we all need some fresh air and sunshine. Oh, and human contact with non-relatives would be nice.

By the way, I expect the National Parks Service to extend my annual parks pass for which I paid a pretty penny for a few months to compensate my loss.

Finally, of course, gun stores are essential because Second Amendment. ‘Nuff said.

As for non-essential businesses? Governors’ offices and Congress.

Blood is Thicker than Gasoline

But gasoline can start a fire.

If there’s one thing that a staged mass crisis does is emphasize how much most of us can’t stand too much family time. Another is that it is so true that we can’t choose our relatives.

My family is ridiculously dysfunctional (like that old platitude: we put the FUN in dysfunctional.) This person doesn’t talk to that one. This one is mad at that one. Blah blah blah ad nauseum. Of course, I admit, there are some of my family members with whom I don’t speak largely because they are nosy, intrusive, judgmental, self-righteous assholes.

Friends are, indeed, one’s true family. I have friends I’ve known for decades with some going back to high school and even earlier. People who have been there for me (and vice versa) during difficult times who don’t judge but are there to listen and offer advice (when asked, of course, unlike family members who seem to always know what you should do and don’t hesitate to lecture every chance they get.)

But why is it that friends are oftentimes so much better (for want of a better word) than family? First of all, you can choose your friends, and if you don’t like them or you have a falling out then you can say your goodbyes and be on your way without the extra baggage of a massive guilt trip.

Family members, however, tend to take one another for granted. They are oftentimes rude, self-centered, discourteous, entitled, and have little loyalty to one another. ‘Tis sad.

Maybe you are one of the lucky ones with a very close family in which everyone gets along and there are never harsh words, undue criticism, abuse, tears, or alcoholism. If so, congratulations and best of luck with your fairy tale existence.

I’m willing to wager, however, that most of us have at least one or 12 toxic family members

A toxic person is a toxic person regardless of their ancestry, and simply because you share a bloodline does not necessarily mean that you need to let that poison invade your own bloodstream. Think of this toxicity as an allergen of sorts. Repeated exposure to an allergen oftentimes forces one’s immune system to react to this foreign body. Voila, an allergy is born. So, if you find yourself breaking out in hives every time your Uncle Felix comes near or when your Grandma Edna tells you that you’re too skinny or your hair is the wrong color or your clothes are not flattering or she doesn’t like your spouse or that you live in the wrong city or that you could get a better job or what-the-fuck-ever, then that person is toxic and you are likely allergic.

Unless you want to purchase stock in Benadryl, just stay away. Far, far away.