A WILLY DUNNE WOOTERS POST FROM THE PAST: WILLY DUNNE WOOTERS, THE PALMETTO BUG, AND THE ANTIQUE PLATE FROM NORWAY

This blog post is from 2014. 

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Sunday evening Willy Dunne Wooters and I watched the season finale of Last Tango In Halifax, a romantic show on PBS that we love (WDW says we are just like the main characters). Then we stopped by the bedroom for a visit, just to make sure it hadn't disappeared as rooms sometimes do. After that, we cuddled on the couch in the living room as we said goodnight.

Suddenly I saw a ginormous, gihugic palmetto bug hanging around just below the edge of the fireplace mantel. I squealed and pointed. Willy Dunne Wooters said, Good God, that's a big one (I, too, had made that statement when we checked on the status of the bedroom).

I ran to get one of my yellow shoes, the yellow shoes I don't like very much because they aren't a true yellow. They're mustard.

I used the yellow shoe to try to smack the palmetto bug. The bastard escaped (they always do at first; they like to create a real competition in the area of Person v. Palmetto Bug) and ran up the wall and hid under a plate that's hanging above the mantel.

See the plate with pink roses above the other plate?
He was hiding under the higher plate.

I can't take down the plate to hit the bug, I wailed. Why not? asked WDW.

I'm afraid I'll drop it and break it, I wailed, and my great grandmother brought that plate with her when my family left Norway to live in the U.S. That plate is a Norwegian antique. So is the one under it. 

I'll get the bug spray, said Willy Dunne Wooters. Where's the bug spray?

It's on the cart at the back door where I keep the cleaning supplies, I wailed (lots of wailing in this post). But we can't get the spray on the plate. It could damage the plate and my great grandmother brought it to the U.S. from Norway.

Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't escape, said Willy Dunne Wooters.

Then I heard all this fumbling around with the cleaning supplies on the cart at the back door, while I stared at the plate and saw an antenna poke out just a tiny bit at the top of the plate.

Willy Dunne Wooters returned. I can't find the bug spray, said Willy Dunne Wooters.

Jesus Christ, I wailed. I gave him the mustard shoe and went to get the bug spray.

See the big red and white container on the top shelf?

It has a spraying wand on the side that resembles a bright red penis.

That's the bug spray Willy Dunne Wooters couldn't find.

I guess I shouldn't expect much.

He is the man who complained that my glass cleaner was 

absolutely worthless when he was actually trying to clean

his glasses with laundry stain remover.

I returned with the bug spray and very carefully sprayed a tiny bit under the edge of the plate. Then a bit more under the opposite side. Then more under the bottom.

Finally the bastard scooted out and headed for the safety of the ceiling. Willy Dunne Wooters stood on my cedar chest, which lives in front of the fireplace that I don't use, and smacked the hell out of the palmetto bug. He hit that m#f! so hard that palmetto guts splattered the wall.

I'm sorry this photo is kind of dark.

Can you see the cedar chest in front of the fireplace?

It has a tapestry on top of it.

I was pretty darn impressed with the way that my WDW

jumped up there and smacked the palmetto bug

with the mustard shoe. 

The late Mr. Palmetto fell on the mantel. I scooped him up with some toilet paper and flushed him. And, yes, I wailed the entire time.


Wooters + Junebug = 100 points

Palmetto Bastard = 0 points


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MEMIE MONDAY MITCHIE MOE

Did the nurse forget to put in the old man's dentures? 

Or is his face like this because of a stroke?

He clearly doesn't know what he's doing. He tried to vote with the Democrats and had to be told to change his vote.

The Romney family no longer takes their dog along on vacations.

The felon often has that same toddler look, but it also extends to tantrums.

Get out of there before the bomb goes off!

Princess says, Ich werde ihm das hässliche Gesicht abbeißen.

Alice says, Grrrrrrr. And we are Shepherds -- not Shepards.

WHAT WEDNESDAY? A TOUCHY SUBJECT

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell, 

I used to ask a question every week on my blog and I've decided to start again, even if it doesn't happen every week.This week I've chosen something sensitive. I trust you all not to engage in fisticuffs.

The question is the following: What do you think about the recent trial––or perhaps I should say mistrial––of Lindsay Clancy?

Clancy was charged with three counts of first-degree murder for killing her three children on January 24, 2023: Five-year-old Cora, Three-year-old Dawson, and Eight-month old Callan. She was also charged with three counts of suffocation or strangulation because of the method of death. These charges were dropped as redundant before the trial began.

The trial began in July, 2026. Clancy's lawyers argued an insanity defense.

When the arguments ended. jurors deliberated and were unable to reach a verdict because of one holdout juror. Eleven jurors voted to acquit Clancy. One refused and was described as acknowledging he held doubt about Clancy's guilt but would not follow the judge's instructions to apply that doubt to his vote.

Now, I want you to vote. Lindsay Clancy: Guilty as charged or not guilty by reason of insanity. What do you know about the case that led you to your decision? 

I'm not going to tell you what I think, yet, but I bet you can guess.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MID-SEPTEMBER MEME MONDAY

Update: Knock me over with a feather. Mitch McConnell is alive, and he's in D.C.

Another Update Now That I've Thought About It: Mitch is in D.C. being pushed around in a wheelchair. That doesn't mean he's alive. The man has been brain dead for a long time.

A few weeks ago, Senator Mitch McConnell's staff said he would return to work on September 14th––today. The 14th morphed into not knowing when McConnell will show his dried-up prune face. 

If you think I'm obsessed with Mitch McConnell's disappearance, maybe it's because I am. The governor of Kentucky has demanded proof of life and received nothing.

Many people have criticized Governor Beshear for not bursting into the hospital or rehab center where McConnell is allegedly a patient to see McConnell for himself. But even  a corpse has rights under HIPAA. 

Flags in St. Augustine, Florida, on 9/11. Each flag bears the name of someone killed on that day in 2001.

Honoring The Dogs of 9/11

WE'RE WALKIN' HERE

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

During the month of September, Princess, Alice, and I are walking at least a mile every day for an American Cancer Society fundraiser. If you are on Facebook and feel inclined to visit us there to make a donation, we would appreciate it.

You can go to https://www.facebook.com/janie.goltz.7/. I've pinned the fundraising post to the top of the page.

Walking the girls at the same time gives me some serious exercise. Princess walks beautifully at heel and serves as a mentor to Alice. Alice starts out walking on my left before she starts to bob and weave as if she's Ratso Rizzo in New York City traffic. Princess remains calm while Alice wanders and I get our new kid back into position.

I've lost some loved ones to cancer. Carol's daughter, DeeDee, whose birthday was the day before mine, was taken from us several years ago. It's a pain that doesn't leave Carol's heart.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

INTRODUCING ALICE

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Alice* came to us as a six-year-old foster dog through Mike at Florida Urgent Rescue [FUR]. No one knows where she came from, but it's clear she had a hard life. She was living on the streets in a different county, picked up as a stray, and ended up in a kill shelter, where Mike rescued her.

I've worked with shy, unsocialized dogs more than once. Penelope is the most recent example. That's why I had so many photos of Penny hiding behind the furniture or in my closet. But I think the word to describe Alice is traumatized. 

It's difficult for me to tell you this part of Alice's story, but Mike said he thought Alice had been beaten. 

Alice had her first appointment with Dr. G last week. Dr. G said she acts like a dog that's been beaten. Every time I tell that part of Alice's story my throat clutches and closes up and I start to cry.

Now I've told you, so let's focus on Alice's progress.

Everything with Alice has been baby steps. At first, she wanted to spend all her time on the bed in my bedroom. Not long after she joined us, Alice told me in this video, Stay away. Do not touch me. Do not look at me. Leave me alone. You are not safe.

Mike provided a baby gate to go across the bedroom door so Alice could stay in the bedroom on her own if she preferred, but she spent so much time in the bedroom that she built a new bathroom next to the bed.

We had to take action. I put a leash on Alice, which upset her so much that she pooped in the bed, and led her to the family room. I closed the gate behind us so she had to stay out of the bedroom. She likes the doggie bed in the corner of the family room that's placed a bit behind the couch.

During the past week, Alice has rested her weary bones on Princess' bed a few times. That's a lot of progress because it means she's out in the open.

I was shocked when she started to hop up on the couch. At first, she stayed in the far corner of the couch and faced away from me.

More progress. She can get closer to me on the couch and face me.

For a long time, Alice couldn't run past me when she came in the back door. I had to stand between the washer and dryer with my back to her. Then she would come in the door.

Now she's able to dash past me while I'm standing in the doorway facing her. I give her lots of praise.

I would like to pet Alice, but it's too much for her. When I adjust her collar, put on her leash, any time I have to be close to her, I scratch her neck and back, tickle her behind her ears, and pet her till I've loosened enough Alice hair to knit Christmas stockings for everyone I know.

I know she likes these moments. But they are rare. I wonder if and when the time will come that Alice doesn't flinch when I put out my hand.

Alice became an official member of our family during August. Alice and Princess are devoted to one another. The relationship is good for both of them.

We'll have Alice stories in the future.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

 *The shelter gave Alice a different name. She wasn't attached to it, and Mike said I had naming rights so she is Alice. We'll talk about names another day.

MEME MONDAY

The new dress code in the land of the felons.

The felon made Little Marco wear this outfit
so he could stand in front of him.

Mitch McConnell has settled into his rehab facility and
likes it so much he might not ever leave.

It's far longer than 54 days now.

Eric Blackerby

August 15 at 5:18 PM ·

Donald Trump never made Wharton’s Dean’s List. He never graduated with honors. The 1968 commencement program from the University of Pennsylvania lists every cum laude, magna cum laude and summa cum laude student in his class, and his name isn’t on it. Decades of Trump insisting he finished first in his class turned out to be a goddamn lie nobody bothered to check until reporters finally pulled the actual paperwork.

Jared Kushner got into Harvard the same way. His father Charles Kushner pledged $2.5 million to the school in 1998, paid out in yearly installments of $250k, and Jared was accepted the following year. Administrators at his high school told journalist Daniel Golden his grades and test scores didn’t come close to warranting it. Kushner Companies calls the connection false. The check cleared anyway.

Jim Jordan earned a law degree from Capital University in 2001. He never took the bar exam. He’s spent years running the House Judiciary Committee, lecturing witnesses and prosecutors about the law, and he’s not a licensed attorney in any state. Nobody stopped him. Nobody in his own party seems to give a damn.

Rand Paul let his real ophthalmology certification from the American Board of Ophthalmology lapse in 2005. So he founded his own certifying board, named himself president, put his wife and father in law in charge, and called himself board certified for over a decade. The board he invented wasn’t recognized by the American Board of Medical Specialties, the American Medical Association or the state of Kentucky.

Mike Johnson took a job in 2010 as founding dean of a law school in Shreveport, Louisiana. He gave a speech about how it couldn’t fail. It never enrolled a single student. It never opened its doors. It collapsed after the accreditation fell through, and Johnson doesn’t bring it up these days.

Sources: Daily Pennsylvanian, ProPublica, Punchbowl News, Snopes, Associated Press

Let's conclude with a little satire from Andy Borowitz.

August 4 ·

FRANKFORT, KENTUCKY—Calling the situation “unacceptable to the people of my state,” on Tuesday Kentucky Governor Andy Beshear demanded to know whether or not Senator Rand Paul was brain-dead.

“I have viewed disturbing video taken last week in the US Senate in which Senator Paul appears to be brain-dead,” Beshear told reporters. “As governor, I demand that he inform Kentuckians about his status—if, in fact, he is capable of human speech.”

Beshear said he became “alarmed” when he viewed the video, in which Paul exhibited “brain activity consistent with that of a coma patient or Tommy Tuberville.”

The governor’s announcement was only the latest controversy to embroil Paul, just days after shocking evidence emerged that he may have been created in a lab leak.

Someone give him a little shove.
Please.