It was cold outside, so I spent the day watching reruns of old black and white shows from the 1950s. They brought back so many wonderful memories of a time when life was simpler and just about everyone was
Some are a lot worse than others. For the life of me, I can't figure out how Dianne Feinstein or Maxine Waters have managed to stay alive, politically speaking. Oh my goodness, I've never heard so much complaining and whining. What a couple of No Birds. While I was in the Senate, nobody ever liked Dianne and from what I hear, the House wasn't at all crazy about Maxine.
Now I can tell you why.
There was this one time in the Capitol building when I was in the Ladies Room, freshening up. I was in my stall with the door closed, reviewing some legislation that eventually didn't get passed, (probably because I'm a woman). Anyway, I was in there for about ten minutes when I heard the door on the next stall close and someone else sat down. It was Maxine.
Well, dear diary, the noise that followed was just unbelievable. Like a bunch Howitzers being fired off in the middle of a New York City traffic jam. I don't know what that woman eats, but she was tooting a whole symphony that sounded like a mixture of brass bands, car horns and large caliber machine guns. Every other volley was followed by muffled proclamations to Jesus, which were followed by even more water bombs and a lot of heavy breathing.
And the smell. OMG, dear diary, you wouldn't believe the heavy fog of poison that woman sprayed over 600 square feet of porcelain and wood paneling. It hung in the air for hours afterwards, according to other Senators, most of whom came down the hall looking pretty pale. I wasn't finished, so I had to just sit there while my eyes teared up, holding a hanky over my face. I let the legislation papers drop to the floor, because I had to use my other hand to wipe and flush.
I raced to the sink to wash my hands, but I was too late. By the time I got out of my stall, Maxine was waiting for me, staring me down with her arms crossed over her chest, as if she'd been waiting for me to come home from an all night poker game. "You say nothing about this to anyone," she glared at me. "You got that?"
I have to admit to feeling a little bit of fear, diary. If a woman could unleash that much lethal power in a toilet stall, there was no telling what she might do to me outside the rest room. I just nodded and scurried out of there. Last thing I heard was Maxine on her cell phone, laughing about something involving "that bitch on her high and mighty white horse."
She didn't even wash her hands. Eeeeeeeewwww.