I'm an overweight retired diabetic with high blood pressure who will be 65 in June.

In other words, the Corvid virus has pinned a big target sign to my puffy dimpled Irish ass.

I went to a doctor's appointment today and then to pick up a few groceries.

After I got home, my wife, who is a young sprite in her mid 50s, and my soon to be 20 year old son and I have agreed that my big ass (and I have a BIG ass) is staying right here in the house until this shit is OVER.

I don't care that Dolt45 said that everything will be back to "normal" by Easter. His primary concern (as I've stated before) is that he wants to make sure that the Easter Bunny puts lots of goodies in his little basket because he lied and said that he's been a good boy.

I can, if I tried, think of a time or two that I complied with something that Dubya wanted us to do. I will do NOTHING at he behest of Donald J Trump.

I've been using #notmypresident since he was sworn in. I will never use "President" as an adjective before the proper noun "Trump" in reference to HIM.

I will use a term that my mother used in the later years of her life.

If God spares me until Election Day, I will be at the polls at opening time so that I can be one of the first people in my town to cast a vote to kick his puffy "239" pound ass OUT of our White House.

While I rarely wish ill on anyone, I wish nothing but misfortune on he and his equally miserable offspring. As far as I'm concerned, they can all go and piss up a rope.

#notmypresident

RESIST