Donald Trump, Mike Pence & Paul Ryan are Unindicted Co-Conspirators. It’s time to end the madness. It’s time for Nancy Pelosi to ascend to the presidency as Hillary Clinton gets ready to take the oath of office.
We shall accept no pardons.
We shall demand the resignation from the Supreme Court of Neil Gorsuch.
We shall perp walk Pee-Pee Putin.
We shall perp walk Bottom Bitch McConnell.
We shall perp walk Melania (in flood pumps).
We shall turn inside out all hats bearing the stigma of Make America Great Again.
It’s time. If you’re a man who voted for Trump you’re called to bear witness to the racism tied to your flaccid manhood. If you’re a woman who voted for Trump you’re called to bear witness to the selfishness of an addiction to lifestyle which you put ahead of the dreams of your daughters.
This week we head back to school. You might think it’s the end of summer vacation from school. But the truth is, it’s the end of summer vacation from school shootings. For those of you who turned my life upside down, who tried to kill me, who took a tweet I wrote after The Las Vegas Shooting out of context and into court, who used the gavel as a gun to steal my money, to steal my peace of mind, know this: 
I’m surviving and thriving and resting and there will come a time when you shall be called to account, to step into the ring, to dodge rabbit punches, so sleep tight Little Rabbit Foo Foo!
I shall accept no apologies.
I shall suffer no fools.
I shall seek counsel and push aside Truth & Reconciliation for the thrill of vindictiveness.
Believe me.
Donald Trump used to say believe me right after he lied. All you had to do on the campaign trail was rewind one of his stump speeches any time he said believe me and you could see the lie. But everyone was too caught up in the momentum to bother taking a second look. 
So I took a second look for everyone which is why I find none of this surprising. If you find this surprising it only means you’ve been too busy shopping or eating or jerking-off useless attorneys with legal fees. Wake up! You’re not dead until you’re dead which means there’s still hope for you, even though there’s zero chance you’ll know me in this lifetime or the next. If I see you in Hell, if I see you in Heaven and you force eye contact, the most you can hope to expect from me is a distant smirk of fleeting recognition. Consequence is a bitch and so am I.
Yesterday I was jogging. I happened upon a beautiful wizard in a summer dress walking a dog named Hank. She was the one who handed me the microphone at a beloved Chicago open mic. She healed me when The Twitter Shit Storm hit and tore my heart to smithereens. 
She told me to let her world lift me up. I trusted her and she lived up to her promise. The beautiful wizard was on the phone with the Goddess of Poop Jokes. There has never been anyone on the mic I admire more than the Goddess of Poop Jokes. She can make the room howl with laughter from a place of extreme vulnerability without a shred of sympathy attached to the sound of laughter. All guts. All glory. As I was jogging by I stopped to pay my respect. The beautiful wizard took one of the earphones out of her ear and shared her call with the Goddess of Poop Jokes.
“What are you running from,” the Goddess asked. “The police?”
“The police. The Ku Klux Klan. The anti-Semites,” I said. “They hate what they can’t control and they can’t control me.”
“Truth,” the Goddess said.
All of us howled with laughter. I kissed the beautiful wizard. I told the Goddess of Poop Jokes how much I missed her. 
Then I jogged away as Hank dragged her by the leash back to a world of love I have only glimpsed but know in my heart I shall one day call home.
Til then, Hillary, on behalf of those of us who voted for you, on behalf of those of us who didn’t vote for you, on behalf of those of us who are ready to change the channel on this shit show, on behalf of those of us who are ready to turn off the Fucking TV altogether, I ask you to forego the parade and get to work.
There’s so much good to be done, Madame President.
The most meaningful lives, I’ve learned, are not the extraordinary ones. They’re the ordinary ones lived with dignity.
Our hunger to be noticed, to been seen, to be appreciated—all these are intensely human, innate, built-in desires. But when we’d rather be noticed than to be ourselves, we have a problem.
You made a horrible tweet and yet you’re still not taking responsibility for your actions. And the KKK and anti-semites, where are they? File police reports if they’re harassing you. I’m a POC and I’ve yet to meet one and have traveled in some wild circles.
So here is some free advice and take it for what I’m charging…
Trump will not be impeached. Scream, cry, fantasize and throw temper tantrums all you like.
If enough people are calling you an asshole, odds are you’re an asshole and need to change the actions that cause people to hate or distance themselves from you.
Grow up and do something meaningful. You are embarrassing a lot of people.
Embarrassment is a healing elixir. I suggest swallowing, Oscar Rivera. It’s a salty snack but it goes down smooth. Besides, you can only feel embarrassment if you care. I do. I care. And so I feel embarrassment. Looky-Looky: I’m still alive, I’m still here. 140 characters didn’t kill me or anyone else. What did you do after the Las Vegas Shooting? Or the Parkland Shooting? Or the Sandy Hook Shooting? Or Columbine? Or Virginia Tech? Or Fort Hood? I’ll bet you did nothing. You think that lets you off the hook? Ok…
Speaking of looking blindly in the other direction, the police have better things to do with their time than protect me from the KKK & anti-Semites when I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself. One of the great things about carrying concealed is you don’t telegraph intent when you’re cartwheeling on Damen & Fullerton.
If you want to feign outrage over the Las Vegas Shooting, then consider this…
The MGM sued the victims to get ahead of the liability. You could say they’re smart. That’s one way of looking at it. Or you could say it lacks imagination. How about educating the children of the victims with money from the one armed bandits. The politicians offered thoughts & prayers after the shooting. They did nothing else. You might say they owed nothing else. That’s one way of looking at it. Or you could say it lacks imagination. How about touring this summer with the kids from Parkland on The Road To Change? What better things did they have to do? Really?
Speaking of better things, I can think of no better thing to do with my time than sit here and thank you profusely for your beautiful book “Entre la Tortura y la Resistencia” and for taking the time to post a comment 🙂