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

Tuesday, November 8, 2022



Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I voted blue in a red state, but I didn't vote today. I voted as early as I could. If you haven't voted yet, however, it isn't too late for you. It's election day, and it's a very important election indeed.

After I finished work yesterday, I went for a walk around the neighborhood and saw a DeSantis yard sign. It proclaimed KEEP FLORIDA FREE

I'd certainly like to keep Florida free––free from the hypocrisy of Ron DeSantis. This is a man, who as a representative in Congress, voted against relief funds to assist victims of Hurricane Sandy, yet as governor went after funds for Hurricane Ian assistance. What will he do the next time people need help?


He hasn't announced that he's running, but it's clear he has plans. He left the state to attend a fundraiser in 2021 after 98 people were killed in the collapse of a condominium building in Miami. That's how much he cares about Florida.

Ron DeSantis is also cracking down on voter fraud, which includes having some people arrested although they were told they could vote and received voter registration cards. I don't know how many arrests have occurred to date, but what else will he do to suppress votes?

I got the bivalent COVID booster shot on Saturday. Ron is vaccinated, yet his merch discourages vaccination. When COVID was at its worst, he banned masks in Florida schools.

And I will not forget the use of our state funds to commit fraud. Ron DeSantis had 48 asylum seekers taken from a shelter in Texas to Martha's Vineyard in mid-September. 

"When he laid out his immigration plans at a December news conference, DeSantis teased Martha’s Vineyard as a potential destination, saying, 'It’s somewhat tongue-in-cheek, but it is true, if you sent (them) to Delaware or Martha’s Vineyard or some of these places, the border would be secure the next day.'”*

I'm sure DeSantis and his buddy Greg Abbott had a lovely cackle together over these wasted resources, but the good people of the Vineyard––in spite of having no warning––banded together to feed and shelter the migrants, who were then allowed to stay in the U.S. because of the crime committed against them when they were told that if they got on the flight to Massachusetts, jobs and housing awaited them. In fact, a number of employers in Florida were upset that people weren't brought to our state where workers are desperately needed. 


So I write to you today for a grander reason that not wanting Ron DeSantis to continue to be the governor of Florida. 

I do not want this fraudster to end up as our president.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


Monday, November 7, 2022


 So today, I appeal to all Americans, regardless of party, to meet this moment of national and generational importance. We must vote knowing what’s at stake and not just the policy of the moment, but institutions that have held us together as we’ve sought a more perfect union are also at stake. We must vote knowing who we have been, what we’re at risk of becoming. -- President Joseph R. Biden

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I voted. I voted right after I received my ballot. I mailed it back, and I confirmed that it was received. 

I voted for nothing but Democrats. No point in even considering a Republican.

If you haven't voted yet, then please do so tomorrow. I usually say no matter whom you vote for, just vote, but now I'm saying please vote blue because it's rare these days to find a Republican who's trustworthy. Look at what they've done to us. First and foremost, they're fine with destroying our rights. A child has been raped and should have an abortion? Tough shit. The fetus has died, should be removed, and is threatening the woman's life? Too damn bad. No matter the reason for the abortion, the actions of lying appointees to the Supreme Court, supported by many in the Republican party, have led to a denial of a woman's right to her own body in states where Republicans have been able to exert their control.

Many Republicans continue to espouse their belief, which is not based on fact, that somehow their candidate was cheated out of the presidency. Some of them want to deny us the vote. And then we have the losers in our midst who either think the insurrection was fine, or who say let it go . . . forget about it . . . inflation is horrible and it's Biden's fault.

Furthermore, does the Democratic party boast of having in its midst a Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Tom Cotton, or a Lauren Boebert? We certainly don't have the likes of Mitch McConnell or Lindsey Graham jerking us around while they continue to kiss trump's ass.

As for candidates, look at some of the races: Rev. Raphael Warnock vs. an insane Herschel Walker; John Fetterman vs. Dr. Mehmet Oz, a carpetbagger quack; and Katie Hobbs vs. Kari Lake, a former local TV news anchor and gay basher who is now anti-media, who called John McCain a loser, and thinks trump won in Arizona.

In my state, I want to send Val Demings to the senate instead of Marco Rubio, and replace Ron DeSantis with Charlie Crist, who has been governor before. Rubio is none too bright. DeSantis has already been preparing to run for president and won't commit to a full term as governor. I don't care to spend years listening to him trade insults with trump. 

I'm sorry to say I think Rubio and DeSantis will win, but if I hadn't already voted, my concern wouldn't keep me from voting tomorrow. Please don't be one of those people who says my candidate can't possibly win so I won't bother to vote. That kind of attitude is unacceptable––especially in these desperate times.  

So I write to you on the day before the election requesting that you vote, and vote blue.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Friday, November 4, 2022


 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I didn't see The Burning Bed when it first aired on NBC in 1984, but I certainly heard about it.

Based on the 1980 non-fiction book by Faith McNulty, it's the story of Francine Hughes, just another battered wife––until March 9, 1977, when she set fire to the bed where her drunk, passed out ex-husband, Mickey Hughes, slept.

At age 16, Francine dropped out of school to marry James "Mickey" Hughes. 

Four children and god only knows how many beatings later, Francine couldn't get any help from the police because they didn't see him hit her, and never mind the marks of his hands around her neck and the bruises. 

Mickey also couldn't keep a job, and wouldn't allow Francine to work.

She was told all the typical shit women hear: 

You have to take the bitter with the sweet.    He's changed. He isn't drinking anymore.   You chose to marry him. Now you have to deal with it.        He's your husband and he misses you and the kids.          That's the way men are.        You shouldn't make him upset.     You started it yourself. 

She managed to divorce him in April, 1971, so she could get welfare, but he ignored the divorce and said she couldn't keep the kids from him. That summer when he was seriously injured in an accident, she felt she had to help him. In return for her kindness, the abuse worsened. She had gone back to school to take a secretarial course. On that last night, he knocked her around and forced her to burn her school books. She called the police. Yet again, they refused to help even though he stated in front of officers “it was all over” for her. Later, he raped her and beat her.

“I was thinking about all the things that had happened to me…all the times he had hurt me . . . how he had hurt the kids,” Francine told People. “I stood still for a moment, hesitating, and a voice urged me on. It whispered, ‘Do it! Do it! Do it!’”*

Francine put the children in the car. She poured gasoline around the bed. She lit the match.

Then she drove to the jail in Dansville, Michigan, to turn herself in.

It was a landmark case that established the concept of "burning bed syndrome." Francine was found not guilty by reason of temporary insanity. It also drew attention to domestic abuse in a time when men were still thought to "own" their wives, and as such, could punish them. Abuse was considered a family issue that should be handled in private. “'Do we break up a marriage simply because a man beats his wife?' asked New York City Councilman Leon A. Katz in a typical exchange with a group of advocates that testified in front of the city’s public safety committee in 1976."**

Domestic violence hasn't ended. It never will. But now we have shelters for women, and sometimes the police make arrests.

As for Francine Hughes, she remarried in 1980, became an LPN, and died in 2017 at age 69. 

Now back to the movie. It's streaming on Prime Video so I watched it. It's excellent and still relevant. 

In her role as Francine Hughes, Farrah Fawcett was no longer a jiggly angel of Charlie's. Her performance is so good. Paul Le Mat is also fine as Mickey Hughes. Grace Zabriskie, with a whine in her voice, is Mickey's mother, who wants to cover up the abuse and blame it on Francine. Richard Masur plays Francine's lawyer.

The violence aimed at Francine is pretty graphic. At times it upset me––especially the final beating––but I recognize the need for it. Sometimes the only way to reach people is to shock them.

Unless you're Dr. Oz, who is beyond reach.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


**ibid. I'm not sure why but this statement makes me think of Dr. Oz saying that abortion access should be left to women, doctors, and local political leaders––maybe because it's so stupid, or maybe because Leon A. Katz was so obviously unqualified to comment on abuse and had no problem with advocating that women should not have protection under the law. 

Thursday, November 3, 2022


 Franklin earns credits toward his auto insurance by demonstrating safety skills.

Franklin used to take his daddy out for a drive every weekend until they came home one day, Sweet Cheeks got out of the car, and went for a walk on his own. Or maybe it was Franklin who went walking on his own so the rides stopped.

Sadly, Franklin now has quite a bit of difficulty getting in and out of the car.

But when he was behind the wheel of a red Mustang, with no particular place to go, those were good times for Franklin.

My favorite Far Side:

Tuesday, November 1, 2022


 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Today we're talking about a documentary and a series based on the same events. Abducted In Plain Sight streams on Netflix (a.k.a. Forever B; 2017; Not Rated), while A Friend Of The Family is available on Peacock (2022; TV-MA; most episodes already streaming & the final episode available this Thursday). 

I watched this doc when it was new on Netflix. It will have you wondering if this story could possibly be true and when you learn it is, you might want to scream at the people on the TV. How could any adult be so stupid and naive? 

Bob and MaryAnn Broberg and their three young daughters lived in Idaho, where they met some new friends at church–– Bob and Gail Berchtold and their youngsters. The two families became so close and Bob Berchtold in particular became such a fixture in the Brobergs' lives that he was nicknamed "B" because both men were named Bob. 

A Broberg family member also ended up with a nickname. B paid particular attention to oldest daughter Jan Broberg and called her "Dolly." It wasn't anything unusual when B offered to take Jan horseback riding one day in 1974 when Jan was 12.

But he didn't bring Jan home. 

B took Jan to Mexico, where he sexually assaulted her and married her, and his wife, Gail, blackmailed Bob and MaryAnn to keep them from calling the police. He even convinced Jan  that she had to have his baby before she turned 16 in order to save the alien race of another planet.

Eventually, the Brobergs called the police and got the FBI involved. B brought Jan home, but he kidnapped her AGAIN when she was 14 and enrolled her in a boarding school while he posed as a CIA agent. 

It's nuts, isn't it? But it happened.

A Friend Of The Family is a dramatization of these events. The first episode begins with the real Jan Broberg, now well into adulthood and an actress, explaining that the documentary didn't tell her story as fully as she wished it had. It seems Bob and MaryAnn Broberg were widely condemned and harassed for their foolishness. 

By watching the series, I do feel that I understand the Brobergs better. They were a very innocent, very religious family. They had never heard of such a thing as a pedophile. According to the series, the term was new to FBI agents, too.

I don't think my parents would have fallen for B's demands, but who knows what people will do? I was a victim of gaslighting that often had me questioning reality and doubting myself.

I think the series is pretty good. The cast includes Colin Hanks as Bob Broberg, Anna Paquin as MaryAnn, Jake Lacy as B, Hendrix Yancey as younger Jan, and Mckenna Grace as older Jan.

I hope I've given you the right amount of interest to pique your curiosity. Believe me: This story has a lot more to it than the information I've provided. 

Happy viewing!

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug