Monday, November 28, 2022


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I'm in training at work. I started this morning and will finish Dec. 16th. 

Soooooo, you probably won't see much of me for these three weeks. It has been insinuated that I will receive a raise in January. 

I'm about two-thirds of the way done with my Christmas decorating, which I enjoy tremendously. I added another tree to the living room. It's the largest I've ever had––so big that I can't unfold all the branches. If I did, it would overtake the room. 

I also want to bake about a million and one cookies.

I believe I have discovered how to edit photos. If I right click on a saved photo, then a menu comes up that includes EDIT IN CLIPCHAMP. Or is it clickchimp? Or some other name.

Anyway, I think it has most of what I had become accustomed to using. But it's different.

It took about six hours to created the following (I must warn you that I don't know how to make it stop; once you click on it the music plays forever):


By this time next year, I hope to have it down to five-and-a-half hours.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Tuesday, November 22, 2022


 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

If you don't want to read my bitching and moaning, then exit through the gift shop now. I need to vent before Thanksgiving arrives and I'm required to display faux gratitude.

Yes, Penelope was correct when she said I am going to my friend Rebekah's house for a Thanksgiving repast, and tomorrow I'm going to bake bread as my contribution to the meal. I thought it would be a good idea to clean the kitchen prior to baking in an effort to keep Rebekah and her family from finding dog hair in the bread. So last night I started cleaning by removing Diet Pepsi from boxes sitting on the counter and putting the cans in the refrigerator (yes, Rudy Giuliani and I are Diet Pepsi drinkers, or at least one of us is). 

In so doing, three cans broke free from a box I opened and flung themselves on the floor. One burst open and sprayed soda all over me, the kitchen cabinets, and even made it to the range. By the time I finished cleaning up the soda, I was too tired to clean the kitchen. I'll try again after work today. 

Yesterday as I prepared by blog post, I was excited about what I would do with photos of the fine folk on the mantel. Nancy Pelosi deserves music and fireworks and I don't know what all. I love having fun with photos. So I pulled up the first photo and went to edit it, and most of the features are gone. I can still add text and crop photos, but the fun stuff is gone. No more music or special effects. I updated to Windows 11 when it became available (which I regret; I should have held onto 10 as long as I could), so I suppose this is a consequence, although I Googled the problem and answers said the same photo editing is available in 11 as in 10. Where? Where the hell is it available? IT'S NOT FUCKING THERE. 

I loved adding bubbles to a photo of Ron DeSantis and creating Dodge The Lightning, a game for kids at the Lake Junebug Resort & Rumpus Room.

Someone please tell me how I can have fun with my photos again, and put it in terms you'd use for an idiot because I am technologically challenged in spite of my constant use of computers for work and blogging and other stuff.

I'm not even sure how I did what I did before. All I know is that I can't find it now. FUCK!

Now here's the last item on the agenda for my bitchfest. I have other things to complain about, too, but I'll let them wait.

Remember this ass? It's gone.

I am very fond of the butt, and of the man, but I ended the relationship on a Saturday during October. I had prepared a lovely dinner for us, expecting Sweet Cheeks to arrive around 6 p.m. after he had watched his stupid football game. At 7, I hadn't heard anything from him, so I ate supper. At 8, I received an email in which he said he didn't feel well because his team had played so badly; thus, he was not coming over.

I replied with You wait until now to tell me? Fuck you!

I followed that up with another succinct message stating the obvious: He doesn't care about me the way I care about him.

He replied, saying that he was wrong to wait so long to tell me he wasn't coming over, that he had games the next few Saturdays, and is on call Thanksgiving week, so he wouldn't be over for a while. He did not apologize, and apparently he did not understand my fuck you. It's over. I'm done. 

He's done this shit before––waiting until late in the evening to tell me he's not coming over, or not showing up at all.

One aspect of our lack of communication that you might have noticed is email. We were together, on and off, for almost 10 years. During that time, I think I spoke to him on the phone two or three times. He texted once. Other than that, all communication has been in person or by email––his choice. I can't give him a call to ask a question or confirm a time because he doesn't answer his phone. No way to call him to tell him about an emergency.

And what kind of a person gets sick because his bad football team played badly? His team has always been bad. It's not a shock when they don't play well. Even if they were a good team and they played badly, that is not a reason to get sick. 

I'm pretty okay with not seeing him anymore, except for one thing:

Pardon my candor, but he doesn't have to try. He knows where it is, and he knows what to do with it.

I asked him once how he got to be so good. He said, It's instinctual.

Before you know it, I'll be writing sad

Nothing interesting has happened in my bed since the middle of October. No cuddling. No warm skin to fondle. No fondling of me!

I also enjoyed talking to him. Our political views are pretty much the same (he's a little more liberal than I am). We had great, in-depth conversations. 

Another man expressed an interest soon after I ended it. I rejected myself for him, telling him I'm too old. Then I thought about it and  decided to invite him over to dinner. He said, I'll have to see what I'm doing this weekend.

Obviously, that's a no. We haven't really spoken since then, and he certainly hasn't sought me out. Now I'm embarrassed when I go to the office, which I do as rarely as possible.  I never should have mentioned age. Now I can't stop fantasizing about him.

What am I going to do? Don't tell me to go to a bar to pick up some guy. I didn't do that when I was young. At age 63, it's definitely not happening now. 

I want a reliable man who will engage in in-bed antics with me on days and at times I require attention. The man has to show up when he says he will, he has to be a Democrat, and he has to be a good conversationalist who is not smug like X.

So, here are your tasks: The soda in the kitchen is cleaned up. You don't have to worry about that. But you do have to tell me where the photo editing stuff has gone, and you have to find an appropriate man for me. You may turn in individual responses, but group work is also allowed.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Monday, November 21, 2022


 The ladies of the mantel 

invite you to an important 
as they honor 
The Speaker Of The House

President Biden, Former President Obama, and Senator Sanders are in attendance as Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Vice President Kamala Harris, Senator Elizabeth Warren, and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton gather to say

Friday, November 18, 2022


 Hello. It is I, Penelope.

Nobody knows my sorrow.

Troubles, troubles, I have such troubles. I am the most troubled little doggy in the whole world. I am filled with sorrow. 

I do not know what to do. Life is so hard. Gloom, nothing but gloom. I am filled with despair. 

Mom Mom has a new friend. Her name is Ruh-bekkkkkuh. 

Mom Mom and Ruhbekkkkkkkuh do their stupid work thing together. 

Mom Mom says it's spelled Rebekah. I doubt it.

Sometimes this Rebekah person comes to our house. I do not think she comes to see me, even though Mom Mom says she is my Auntie Rebekah, which is ridiculous. I have Auntie More More. I do not need another auntie.

When Rebekah is in our house, she talks to Mom Mom, and Mom Mom talks to her, and then they cackle like witches.

There are witches in my house!

Even worse, sometimes Mom Mom goes to Rebekah's house. She leaves me at home with the village idiot and tells him to take care of me.

And now, Mom Mom says she is not cooking a turkey for us for Thanksgiving. She is going to Rebekah's house. 

I do not like these developments one little bit. 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO the agony the gloom the misery the despair. 

That is all. Goodbye. I must go back to bed now. The world is so cold.

Tuesday, November 15, 2022


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

How's everybody? Been staying on Santa's Nice List, or are you eternally on the Naughty List and don't care?  

On Sunday I dragged around some big branches and picked up sticks downed by Nicole, and I mowed, a pleasant task with the lower temperatures.

I bought a new lawn mower a few months ago. I used to have Clippy. Now I have Zippy.

Zippy is a member of Planned Parenthood and wears her WE WON'T GO BACK sticker with pride. She also has plans of her own. As a battery operated mower,  she is quieter and smarter than her gas guzzling counterparts. Therefore, she intends to sneak up behind Mitch McConnell, Lindsey Graham, and quite a few other men so she can knock them down and mow right over them to remove their tiny excuses for penises and balls.

I hope she lets me watch.

I also had to grocery shop. When I was stopped at a red light, the man in the next lane spoke to me and gestured at my car. I thought something was wrong, but he  merely wanted to let me know he liked the bright blue of my car and wants to get his next truck in the same color. He told me of his intention so many times that I was grateful when my light turned green while his remained red. 

I did some reading, too. I'm about 60 pages in on Like A Rolling Stone by Jann Wenner. I've read enough to state with confidence that Wenner is a man in love with himself and with rock music––in that order. 

Then there's The Crown. Season Five showed up on Netflix last week. I didn't watch anything else until I'd seen it because I've found the previous seasons delightful and dishy. I finished the tenth and final episode last night and was not impressed, which I attribute to miscasting––with a couple of exceptions. 

The cast for The Crown changes every two seasons. The current crop doesn't cut it. They're so lacking in warmth that I feel little interest in them. 

Imelda Staunton as Queen Elizabeth only comes to life in a couple of sequences with young Prince William (Senan West), who helps her with her TV because an aging grannie doesn't want to give up her old set, and when she does, she can't figure out how to use the new one because all old people are stupid and technologically challenged. I'm old and obviously can't cope with my laptop or my smart devices, which is why the paragraph above about Zippy is all in caps and a different color. I can't change it no matter how many times I retype it and make adjustments. 

Emma Corrin originated the role of Diana during season four. She brought a lovely charm and innocence to the role. That sweetness is gone with Elizabeth Debicki in the part. She does the head down with eyes looking up thing, but other than that, she's not Princess Diana-ish at all. Diana was tall––5' 10"––but Debicki at  6' 3" towers over the other actors, giraffe like. She certainly doesn't do the "revenge dress" justice. She makes Prince Charles (Dominic West) and Camilla Parker-Bowles (Olivia Williams) look good in spite of the whole "I want to be your tampax" thing. 

I found some bright spots, though. I enjoyed Prince Philip's (Jonathan Pryce) story about taking up carriage driving when he has to give up polo, and the lovely friendship he develops with Penelope Knatchbull, a relative whose young daughter has died. 

Princess Margaret also has a good plot line as she reconnects with the great love of her youth, Peter Townsend. Lesley Manville is fine, although without the acid of the great Helena Bonham Carter, who made an outstanding Margaret.

The Crown will have a sixth season. It's supposed to be the last. It will be a lengthy wait for that final season. It's best that the show winds down. It's losing its power.

As for the controversy over did such-and-such reeeeeeeally happen, I don't care. If you watch a movie or series based on real events and real people and you think everything in it is accurate and happened exactly the way it's depicted, then you're a silly sap. Get over it, John Major and everyone else who's bitching about it. The show is similar to a roman a clef, but without fictionalized names for the characters.

So, there you go. That's what I've been up to. I hope your week has gotten off to a good start.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Thursday, November 10, 2022


 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

It started to rain at about 10 last night. We awoke to strong winds and heavy rain. Franklin ran right out to do what must be done. Penelope refused. She has her legs crossed until the wind and rain die down or I somehow force her out. She's hiding in my closet.

The forecast calls for a puddle in the living room, with a possibility of poop on the hearth.

I lost my internet connection a few minutes ago, but got it back pretty quickly. When it went off, Alexa turned on all the lights. I asked her to turn them off, and in every room where she lives, her voice echoed, I don't understand. 

I don't understand much of anything, Alexa. 

Nevada and Arizona Senate races remain undecided. I thought Lauren Boebert had been defeated, but the crazy bitch hangs on. Isn't it enough that Marge won her race? Can't we please get rid of Lauren? I don't know if Colorado voters share her insanity or if they vote based on Boebert's entertainment value. Can't they get some streaming services instead? Colorado, watch something on Netflix instead. 

I find plenty of ways to have fun. My dishwasher held a little surprise for me a couple of days ago. A lizard was living in my kitchen. I saw it run under the range one day. A few days later it sought shelter under the refrigerator. After I ran the dishwasher, I saw something in the bottom and thought it was a piece of food. I plucked it out and it felt rubbery. It was the lizard's head. 

Oh, boy. I don't know what happened to the rest of him.

Here's Tropical Storm Nicole at about 10 a.m. We have a tornado watch.

Please explain to me why people vote for Marge and Lauren. In a stupid contest, those two have already defeated a rock.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Wednesday, November 9, 2022


 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Yesterday as I worked the wind rose and the temperature dropped. We have gray skies today as we await Nicole. She is forecast to be a category 1 hurricane when she arrives in Florida, but will probably drop back into tropical stormdom by the time she reaches my area. In the meantime, Franklin, Penelope, and I are snug in our Little House On The Swamp. 

My sweet boy snoozes while
Penelope keeps watch.

I work from home most of the time now, which keeps the three of us happy. I will visit the office one day soon for a Thanksgiving lunch. I love it that when we have food in the office, it's catered and there's plenty of it. 

Work is pretty quiet this month. It will be busier for me during December when I undertake some additional training. 

I'm very, very happy that the Red Wave did not occur. Some races are too close for comfort. We expect a Senate run-off election in December between Senator/Rev. Raphael Warnock and Herschel Walker. It's a situation that's very difficult for me to understand. You have a choice between an upstanding guy and a known liar and hypocrite. I listened to a short podcast in which a woman said of the former football player, I believe in him. I think it's safe to say she believes trump won the last election as well. 

But beliefs are not facts.

As President Obama pointed out, Some of you may not remember, but Herschel Walker was a heck of a football player. Does that make him the best person to represent you? Let's say you're at the airport and you see Walker and you say, Hey, there's Herschel, Heisman winner. Let's have him fly the plane. 

The good news is that we have reason to believe that Warnock can win in December. The Democrats in Georgia must remain vigilant, however. No slacking off, folks! 

I'm especially pleased with the outcome of the Senate race in Pennsylvania. Go, John Fetterman! Go straight to Washington, D.C., to be sworn in!

I noticed Fetterman during the 2020 election because he offered some commentary on MSNBC. He's a sharp, caring guy. A stroke hasn't stopped him. Again, however, a vote for Mehmet Oz is beyond my comprehension. It was a close race. The people of Pennsylvania could choose between the good guy who is their Lt. Governor and was mayor of one of their cities or they could choose a guy from another state who dispenses quackery on TV. Go figure.

MSNBC dispensed some good news when they relayed the probable end of Lauren Boebert's reign of terror in the House (not that they put in those words), but Nicole Wallace talked about her dad telling her that Boebert's opponent, Adam Frisch, is a great guy. So Adam Frisch is a name to watch. Boebert will probably shoot up her neighborhood in dismay when the race is final and she's the loser.

Joy Reid also pointed out that Democrats who did well in their House races tended to run on President Biden's infrastructure bill. 

That's good news!

For today, I want to focus on the good. Soon I'll be bemoaning Ron DeSantis vs. Donald Trump. That will make me crazy! 

I hope you had some happy outcomes in your state.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug