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“Roo” should get the Dish by Hopper
9 years ago
“Roo” should get the Dish by Hopper
First of all, there is a lot of celebrating of freedom going on right now, especially with this being Independence Day week. So everybody’s got the grill out and having a good time. Speaking of grilling, Secretary Clinton received a grilling by the FBI over the weekend. I guess the charcoal briquettes weren’t stacked properly because she survived the fire. Though she does look a bit charred for the experience. Mr. Trump stood by the grill and added seasonings, rubbing salt into her wounds. Don’t stick a fork in her yet. She’s not done. I’m not done either. I’ve still got some grilling to do this week. Let’s see what I can throw on the grill:
Ok people, I’m just trying to get up to speed on my 👑 Roo-Kiss journals. I’ve been lazy about it. Well, I had nothing to say about 👑 Roo-Kiss. Well, nothing worth talking about, anyway. I still don’t. But I’m in a mood. Could be the diet I’m on. Had to limit myself to one slice of pizza instead of the usual six. I desperately need some grissle to chew on… so let’s get the barbeque fired up and grill some Roo.
So our Roo is in a sticky wicket of her own making. Another one. Yes, I know. She is the architect of her own suffering, you might say. And how we have suffered right along with her. Call her the Secretary Clinton of the furryverse. I empathize. Truly I do. If you don’t stack those briquettes in just the right way, they tumble like a house of cards. Oh, those pesky email servers and cable hook ups and such. Setting up all that obligatory technology can be such a headache, a stumbling block to progress. Two steps forward, two steps back. Sometimes you just need what you need, and however you get it is how you get it. Our Secretary needed secrecy and control. She didn’t get it. She then needed to pacify the people with an explanation of why she did what she did- and what she was thinking. She didn’t do it. She also needed a break. She may have finally gotten that today. Stick a fork in her later to see if she’s done.
Our Roo has needs, too. Namely, someone to lay their cable for her. (And not in a good way.) It seems she lives in some remote part of deliverance country where electricity and such is a newfangled thing. No word on whether she has running water. One can only hope she’s not drawing it from the well by hand. She has better things to draw. Our pioneer has planted a flag, cleared a tract of land, built a home (She lives in a trailer. I kind of instinctively knew this was inevitable, but I was horrified just the same to find out it was true.) Again, I empathize. I am no stranger to roughing it in the wild. I actually stayed in a hotel with no room service. For two whole days. I still have nightmares about it.
So she needs this cable run from civilization to her homestead in order to stream out furry pictures to you- and for some reason she can’t make this happen. The consequences of living in the wilderness, perhaps. If only she had chosen a building lot just a little bit closer to existing amenities. Everyone else in the neighborhood has cable, she reasons. Why not her? Life is so unfair. To be singled out, to be deprived of due freedoms granted to others. Who will be the scapegoat- who must be blamed for her ill-thought out choices? I suspect a vast right wing conspiracy against our Queen.
Well, darlings… the bed is made, now our Queen must lie in it. What to do? If the cable won’t come to her, then she must… get a satellite dish. The horror. But in fairness, I’ve never seen a trailer home without one, so I’m sure it will look right at home between her chicken coup and the couch that will one day sit in the pile of dirt that is her front yard. (I’m guessing.) We all have to give in to the… inevitability of our Roo’s steady decline into the abyss. But at least she has already received her coronation, unlike Secretary Clinton, whose once inevitable coronation keeps on being delayed and delayed. The nerve.
We sincerely hope that this matter is resolved quickly and there is no further delay in the streaming of all those furry goodies. You, dear readers, tried to help, but all you had was bad news for our Queen. Horror stories about how the dish goes out whenever it rains, snows, gets cloudy or windy or if a bird flies over it. More horror stories about weak, untrustworthy signal strength, lots of technical problems that sound bad and universal admonition that she needs to move heaven and earth to get her hands on someone’s cable. One person actually suggested that the cable company did not think our dear Queen “was worth it.” Gasp!
I feel her pain. As I have many times before. But I have no doubt our Queen will rally. A way will be found. She is a progressive who gets things done. Sadly, no matter what system she implements, cable, dish, whatever, it will be an exercise in mediocrity. Poor service, needlessly expensive, a burden on the common people. Kind of like our government. Just don’t blame Madame President for it. Or our Queen 👑. After all, it’s a rigged system.
Love, -D.
First of all, there is a lot of celebrating of freedom going on right now, especially with this being Independence Day week. So everybody’s got the grill out and having a good time. Speaking of grilling, Secretary Clinton received a grilling by the FBI over the weekend. I guess the charcoal briquettes weren’t stacked properly because she survived the fire. Though she does look a bit charred for the experience. Mr. Trump stood by the grill and added seasonings, rubbing salt into her wounds. Don’t stick a fork in her yet. She’s not done. I’m not done either. I’ve still got some grilling to do this week. Let’s see what I can throw on the grill:
Ok people, I’m just trying to get up to speed on my 👑 Roo-Kiss journals. I’ve been lazy about it. Well, I had nothing to say about 👑 Roo-Kiss. Well, nothing worth talking about, anyway. I still don’t. But I’m in a mood. Could be the diet I’m on. Had to limit myself to one slice of pizza instead of the usual six. I desperately need some grissle to chew on… so let’s get the barbeque fired up and grill some Roo.
So our Roo is in a sticky wicket of her own making. Another one. Yes, I know. She is the architect of her own suffering, you might say. And how we have suffered right along with her. Call her the Secretary Clinton of the furryverse. I empathize. Truly I do. If you don’t stack those briquettes in just the right way, they tumble like a house of cards. Oh, those pesky email servers and cable hook ups and such. Setting up all that obligatory technology can be such a headache, a stumbling block to progress. Two steps forward, two steps back. Sometimes you just need what you need, and however you get it is how you get it. Our Secretary needed secrecy and control. She didn’t get it. She then needed to pacify the people with an explanation of why she did what she did- and what she was thinking. She didn’t do it. She also needed a break. She may have finally gotten that today. Stick a fork in her later to see if she’s done.
Our Roo has needs, too. Namely, someone to lay their cable for her. (And not in a good way.) It seems she lives in some remote part of deliverance country where electricity and such is a newfangled thing. No word on whether she has running water. One can only hope she’s not drawing it from the well by hand. She has better things to draw. Our pioneer has planted a flag, cleared a tract of land, built a home (She lives in a trailer. I kind of instinctively knew this was inevitable, but I was horrified just the same to find out it was true.) Again, I empathize. I am no stranger to roughing it in the wild. I actually stayed in a hotel with no room service. For two whole days. I still have nightmares about it.
So she needs this cable run from civilization to her homestead in order to stream out furry pictures to you- and for some reason she can’t make this happen. The consequences of living in the wilderness, perhaps. If only she had chosen a building lot just a little bit closer to existing amenities. Everyone else in the neighborhood has cable, she reasons. Why not her? Life is so unfair. To be singled out, to be deprived of due freedoms granted to others. Who will be the scapegoat- who must be blamed for her ill-thought out choices? I suspect a vast right wing conspiracy against our Queen.
Well, darlings… the bed is made, now our Queen must lie in it. What to do? If the cable won’t come to her, then she must… get a satellite dish. The horror. But in fairness, I’ve never seen a trailer home without one, so I’m sure it will look right at home between her chicken coup and the couch that will one day sit in the pile of dirt that is her front yard. (I’m guessing.) We all have to give in to the… inevitability of our Roo’s steady decline into the abyss. But at least she has already received her coronation, unlike Secretary Clinton, whose once inevitable coronation keeps on being delayed and delayed. The nerve.
We sincerely hope that this matter is resolved quickly and there is no further delay in the streaming of all those furry goodies. You, dear readers, tried to help, but all you had was bad news for our Queen. Horror stories about how the dish goes out whenever it rains, snows, gets cloudy or windy or if a bird flies over it. More horror stories about weak, untrustworthy signal strength, lots of technical problems that sound bad and universal admonition that she needs to move heaven and earth to get her hands on someone’s cable. One person actually suggested that the cable company did not think our dear Queen “was worth it.” Gasp!
I feel her pain. As I have many times before. But I have no doubt our Queen will rally. A way will be found. She is a progressive who gets things done. Sadly, no matter what system she implements, cable, dish, whatever, it will be an exercise in mediocrity. Poor service, needlessly expensive, a burden on the common people. Kind of like our government. Just don’t blame Madame President for it. Or our Queen 👑. After all, it’s a rigged system.
Love, -D.
