Mystify or Justify???

Ya know… I’m sore… my right hip reminds me of saving my son’s life in the river on Japan… 3 adults died hours later in that same water… it was that swift…

Mile walk done and the house is closed up… humidity and heat… ugh… one thing I really don’t like and what do I do??? Move to an area on this island, where it’s total jungle… and humid… but it’s Hawaii… not anymore, it’s more Americanized now than it was in the 80’s when I was here… No, Hawaii is a commercial tourist trap… and I never liked tourist traps… oh and I found spell check on this app… so, yep, brain fog is clearing up, because I remember where that is in the app…. big long sigh on that one….

Confabing with anyone and it’s not going to like my made up words (spell check that is), but christians made up heaven and hell, so I guess confabing can be my voodoo word…

Anyhow, they justified their actions… ya know, when I justify something, I have to stop, evaluate, what am I justifying my actions or thoughts or beliefs or am I trying to convince you of something I strongly represent????

Justification without representation is no different than saying all Lives matter, but refusing to say Black lives matter…. it boils down to religion….

When you justify, without representing a valid reason… you are doing what christians have done for centuries… avoid responsibility for your actions and choices and throwing humanity to the curb… just so you can ….

Justify your actions….

Told hubby, that we have 9 distinct climate zones on this island and that no matter where we move to, bangers will be part of the make up of society, because bullying will always go on as long as they have the excuse to justify their actions and that means religion or religious morons to live among…

So what do we do??? We got no clue…

For now, the VA has all the say, once the implant process starts, their is no turning back and the hedge along the road will be high enough, that you’ll have to be in a tonka toy going down the road… (won’t be any quieter), but they won’t see me bare my ass as they go by either… now that is a thought… because it be one bright white ass… though I did sun burn it once, so age spots may be appearing… okay, enough giggles….

Bottom line, the VA and the Virus is dictating our lives and all I can do is hope that our children grow and in the process learn and grow some balls and own their lives…. I gave life, to 2 of them… I had some influence on the other one, maybe not all that good either, she acts crazier than me, well maybe….

So, sit back enjoy the ride and watch how they handle what is coming… because in all truth, I still think they have their heads buried in the sand… My freezer is full, but not packed full, it’s about to be, when I go see the surgeon again and my dry goods, will be so supplied, that we can go a year, without stepping foot in a store for them….

Nope, we will just need our perishables and some of those have a dry back up….

I hope with all I am, that the numbers are wrong… but numbers, they don’t lie… just like with DNA… the science will always win out over the bull shit face book promotes and twitter indulges and tik tok exploits…. no, I honestly don’t think our kids or theirs are anyway prepared for what is coming…

Enough of doom and gloom, you can’t change what is going to be and what is going to be is going to happen, because America bought into social media and mans bibles and not the Science that saves them in the hospitals…

You can’t have it both ways, god or science and right now, the only thing saving your sorry christian ass’s is …. Science...

Adorable Spite… watching the show an expecting exactly what you set in motion… disaster…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s