Friday, July 14, 2017

July 14, 2017

Dear Diary,

I guess today is Bastille Day, which is sort of like our Independence Day, only it's celebrated in France and there's no hot dogs or beer.  Most people don't know the story of Bastille Day, but I took a class about French history when I was in college, so as usual, I know a lot more about it than that basket of deplorables the average American does.

Bastille Day is a story I can really relate to, because it's all about a woman who was very powerful and a nation of women-hating misogynists couldn't handle her being capable, so they cut her head off.  Seriously. And it wasn't ISIS, either. These were white French people.

So you can see I'm not the first victim.  This stuff has been going on for years!

I once went to a psychic who said in a past life I was Marie Antoinette, which made perfect sense to me, because she was blonde, too. Up until a few years ago, I was a natural blonde. Then the stress of the you-know-what made most of it either go white or fall out completely, so now I mostly wear a wig if I go outside.

The weird part is that Marie wore wigs, too. Eerie, huh? I know. Me too.

Turns out I have all kinds of other similarities with Marie, which is enough to make anyone believe in this stuff. For example, both of us were female, although she like to wear dresses and I'm strictly a pants suit gal. They didn't have WalMart back in 1789, but if they did, you can bet old Marie would have slipped into the poly-cotton comfort of a kicky two-piece.

We also both preferred living in palaces cities and didn't associate with smelly common folks got bad information from our polling people. I think the greatest similarity we share, however, was our sense of generosity.  There's a famous story about how, when her staff woke her up in the middle of the night to tell her the peasants were starving and had no bread, she told her staff, "Let them eat cake!"

She didn't have to do that, you know.  She could have rolled over, gone back to sleep and called the Libyan embassy taken care of it in the morning. Instead of offering them bread, she offered cake to those mongrels at the gates the smelly poor people, which is far more tasteful. One simply doesn't give bread at these occasions. A bottle of dessert wine or a small cake is much more appropriate.

That's what I would have done, but sometimes you just can't win no matter how nice you are. Just ask anyone in Pennsylvania or Michigan.  Ungrateful bastards. They can stay poor for all I care. Fuck 'em.

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