Rancho Tarzanadu: "Speaking of the Pandemic..."

     Miss Linda was at her wit’s end.

     She thought previously that she had been at her wit’s end, but this time she knew for certain that she had never been at her wit’s end before now.

     She also dreaded the fact that possibly, in the ever-looming future, that she could be even more at her wit’s end than she was now, and this made her want to imbibe a third cocktail.

     So she did.

     This would worry her cousin, the Green Goddess Minister (her mother’s only sister’s daughter) who believed basically the same way Miss Linda did, but apparently without the use of Vodka or psychedelic substances. Miss Linda found the “substances” to be the icing-on-the-cake, if you will (and for those of you that will, you understand).

     Some might say that she was pushing her feelings down by employing this technique, but if it enhanced her creative expression and helped to tap in to her feelings, who’s the loser here, really?

     Miss Linda had just attempted rousing the film editor downstairs to bum a cigarette, but he pretended he was asleep, even though she could tell he wasn’t. He was out of cigarettes anyway; she had already checked his “special box” in the garage. (Postscript: the cigarettes were actually there, but Miss Linda did not open the box within the box, so missed seeing them.)

     “I’ll just have to smoke a joint, then,” she muttered to herself on the way back upstairs with a loudly-concocted after-midnight White Russian.

     How appropriate, thought Miss Linda. A White Russian.

     Vladimir Putin had just put a hit on his rival, Alexei Navalny by poisoning. He denied it, until the Germans stormed in and said, “Yeah…it’s poisoning.” They are taking him back home with them.

     Miss Linda’s mother, who is now 95 years old (!) has been in-and-out of the hospital twice since the pandemic started. Each time, Miss Linda almost shit her pants out of sheer unadulterated fear and terror.

     Her mother is now safely back at home in the hills of Pasadena, surrounded by luxury, and tells Miss Linda that she is feeling ready to…die.

     Miss Linda puts her head in her hands and sighs deeply. She listens to the race-car drivers speeding on the 101 freeway at the Reseda onramp. She takes a sip of her White Russian. She sighs again.

     She is doing everything possible to prolong her mother’s life, and her precious, sweet, and beautiful mother turns to her, looks her in the eyes, and says, “I’m ready.”

     But Miss Linda notices other things, too. For instance her sister, China, pointed out that their mother always takes her pills on time now, the way she’s actually supposed to.

     Miss Linda has also noticed that she is extremely interested in food; in fact just this evening she demanded that her new caregiver bake her some corn bread muffins immediately! She was craving them so badly she could not wait one more second. She wanted to make sure that they were baked in the iron skillet that belonged to her own mother, Estelle (Star). The caregiver assured her that yes (twice), they were being baked in the iron skillet greased not only with butter, but also with olive oil simultaneously.

     Her mother’s new caregiver had just purchased a brand new “hybrid” car (she pointed this out specifically for some reason (maybe it was a political message?). The caregiver was making bank ($25.00 per hour…you do the math). Not that she didn’t work for it, because believe me (Miss Linda) she did! And also had to maintain the patience of a saint. Miss Linda was not quite up to Saintdom yet herself, as evidenced by her eight-year-old car that she had gotten because her previous car had been smashed to bits in an accident that was ultimately deemed her fault in the end (not drug related…at least, there were no reports taken by police at the scene).

     Miss Linda’s mother’s husband (a Republican) had called her all kinds of names over the years, but he was becoming milder as the days wore on. Both of them were…fading. Right in front of her. This was extremely hard to witness. Her mother weighted 112 pounds, and ate bird-sized portions. Her husband exclaimed that he “hadn’t eaten all day, and wasn’t hungry,”, then devoured a hearty portion of Mexican casserole and fresh-out-of-the-oven corn muffins. He had been put on Hospice, then taken off of Hospice, then his doctor said they weren’t sure if that was the right decision after all and may keep him on Hospice.

     All Miss Linda knew was that when he thought he was on Hospice he felt terrible, and when he thought he wasn’t on Hospice he felt great.

     Everyone in the family was extremely confused about all of this.

     Except Miss Linda’s half-brother (they had the same mother, but different fathers), who was certain, absolutely certain (without irony) that it was officially the “End of Times”. For real. It was the “truth”. Miss Linda thought, after almost four years of Overlord L’Orange that he of all people would realize that the truth was subjective, but NOOOOO! The “sinners” (which definitely included Miss Linda and her sister) would be “left behind”, while all the Overlord L’Orange supporters would begin to float up into the sky and disappear inside the clouds, never to be heard from again. If only, Miss Linda thought. It was almost enough to make her want to start praying for it. Almost.

     Speaking of the Overlord, “A federal judge dismissed a lawsuit from Overlord L’Orange that sought to block Manhattan District Attorney Cy Vance’s subpoena for his financial records” (Axios).

     Additionally, Steve Bannon just got arrested for fraud charges in the “Border Wall Scheme”.

     Insert Miss Linda’s heavy eyeroll here. Time for that joint…or the rest of it.

     Also, Miss Linda’s sister informed her that the Overlord is required to produce a DNA sample sometime next month (September) for the E. Jean Carroll rape allegation lawsuit. Miss Linda feels that E. Jean Carroll is a F*cking Brilliant Badass and hopes to see her wrangle the Overlord like the stupid little bitch he is and pin him to the ground, and then cough Covid-19 all over him. Miss Linda is not always “politically correct” apparently. Her half-brother thinks she’s going to Hell in a handbasket. Miss Linda does not believe that Hell actually exists, so she wonders if she could be sent there against her Pagan will? Honestly, she doubts it. If she’s proven otherwise, she might acquiesce, but it would have to be a pretty strong, verifiable argument.

     She would think that Baby Jesus could come up with the time, somehow, to convince her, if he really wanted to…if she was really worth saving.

     Speaking of Baby Jesus, there is a picture circulating on social media of Jesus standing behind the Overlord at his massive desk (tiny penis), and Jesus looks exactly like Charles Manson…coincidence? Miss Linda thinks not.

     So much other stuff is happening too…the Pandemic, for example.

     Miss Linda hears constant sirens. They are blaring right now at 1:47 AM.

     Miss Linda lights that joint for real, now.

     Now the sirens are gone, and just the comforting hum of the spiraling helicopters remain. Around and around and around.

     Speaking of helicopters, a homeless man took a shit in Miss Linda’s front yard sometime in mid-afternoon last week when she was tending to her 95-year-old mother’s needs full-time before the new caregivers started. He also smoked a couple of cigarettes while he was there, escaping one of the hottest days of the year in the shade of Miss Linda’s overgrown hedges. She understood in one way, but not at all in another. Kind of like empathizing with the Conspiracy Theorists. It made sense to a certain point. And then it completely stopped making sense altogether, and you would think any rational person with a decent IQ would realize this.

     Miss Linda thought maybe, just maybe, that whole fluoride-in-the-water thing might actually be a thing. That would explain a lot of brain-dead zombies out there with rifles and Baby Jesus T-shirts on who claimed they were “right” when everything about them screamed “WRONG”. Seriously. Come on.

     Miss Linda had an earful of Fox News while at her 95-year-old mother’s house tonight. The “newscaster”, a woman made out of Wonder White Bread was saying that Joe Biden wanted to enforce a “National Mandate” for mask wearing.

     Duh, you dumb-ass! The Overlord should have done that in early March. It is now August 22, 2020, and there is still no National mandate for mask wearing. We have the most Covid-19 cases in the entire world, with 178,000 U.S. citizens dead. We are leading in death. The Overlord keeps saying that “I think we’re doing very well.”

     The mystifying thing is, some people actually believe this. Miss Linda’s sister says that those people have “drunk the Kool-Aid”, and Miss Linda would have to agree with her.

     On top of all of this, fires have been raging all over California, and the air is gray…everywhere you look, gray. And thick like pea soup. The film editor downstairs would say, “It’s just like Florida”. Now that’s a depressing thought.

     Miss Linda would love to express more, in greater detail, all the myriad emotions that she is experiencing at this particular moment in time, but, as you might imagine, it’s difficult to put into exact words.

     So she will sum things up with feeling: Overwhelm, Fear, Angst, Mind-bending love from the purest depths of her being…unconditional love for her mother, for herself, for everyone around her, for the planet and the cosmos and the great beyond, Sadness, Depression, Anger, Hope, a Perpetual Longing to Live and Seize-the-Day, a Great and Utter Despair that Everything is Meaningless, a Numbness, Acceptance, Revolt, Denial, Belief in Angel Numbers as Messages from the Unified Field, Spiritual Depth in the eyes of her cats, who are not merely cats, but Secret Other-Worldly Muses.

     Fuuuccck…she would literally sell her soul right now for one measly cigarette.

     As Marie Antoinette said: “Let them smoke pot!”