So There I Was
Sitting on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic
This article is from the original Chicano in Paris recently moved here to its new home.
When the United States decided to lose its fucking mind.
Sure, dude is a rapist and a racist and generally a bad human and a terrible business man and he insults those of us who served and he’s a traitor and a coward, but… well, at least he isn’t the black lady?
I know that was a bit of a run-on sentence, but we both know I could have kept going a lot longer than even that.
As I laid there numb talking with my wife - a twenty-six year Air Force retiree - also numb, trying to figure out how a country we love could so openly embrace - AGAIN - a man who hates any american he deems other.
As the day went past and the knot in my stomach subsided it was replaced with anger. I was violently angry in a way I had not anticipated. I was glad to be isolated from most of the world, heading west at a few nautical miles per hour. It kept me safe from my own demons. Aside from one incident that ended with a fan of the Orange Troglodyte™ skulking away dumbfounded and with his feelings a little hurt I was able to remain well behaved.
But I had this excess energy. Anxiety. Something. Someone smarter than I could ever hope to be articulated it best: I felt the way I did when the second plane hit the other tower. That nervous energy mixed with the overwhelming desire to hurt someone.
So I thought, what would Jesus do? and then I thought, well, whipping overly religious cunts and greedy fuckers would likely get me arrested so I had to come up with something else. Then I saw that gif…
I’d seen it a thousand times before and I always, always love it. This time it hit different. Since the election results a whole lotta dumbfucks thought saying things like your body, my choice was hilarious until women decided, nah. But I also saw an opportunity to use this very gif to teach proper punching technique. You see, it turns out a proper punch is just as effective against rape-y assclowns as it is against Nazis.
Of course, turning this gif into an educational how-to lead to Mark-y Z zucking my post and seemingly shadow banning me for a time. Ugh, zuck, no wonder we’re all heading to Bluesky.
Anyway, that’s when it hit me: I need to put this on a shirt. Can’t zuck a shirt!
I made shirts!
It was cathartic. I could make them as nasty as I wanted (trust me, I ended up deleting more than I made) and it felt like I was putting up a middle finger to the Orange Troglodyte™. Are any of my designs going to change the world? Fuck no. Will they irritate the Fuck Your Feelings crowd? That’s the goal.
Now I’m sitting somewhere on a farm in Ohio and in-between eating my MIL’s amazing cooking, I am working on new designs and building proper storefronts in time for the holidays. It turns out it’s a fun, and creative outlet that just might save some Trump-loving motherfucker from me proper techniquing his ass.
If you’re still reading, thanks for reading what I realize now is the blog equivilent of an informercial. Since you’re still reading I will put links to my three storefronts below. Why three? Because I am new at this and I want to try as many as possible til I find the right one that combines my blend of moxy, price, and profit (a boy must eat, after all). And I will likely have some sort of Small Business Saturday deals and then some Cyber Monday stuff.
Store:
Alright awesome nerds, thanks for sticking around. Since yesterday was Thanksgiving (U.S.) I want you all to know that I am incredibly thankful for all of you. You’re beautiful humans and anyone who makes you feel otherwise can fuck all the way off.