Bad Hombres. 1.20.17

Let us, then, fellow citizens, unite with one heart and one mind. Let us restore to social intercourse that harmony and affection without which liberty and even life itself are but dreary things.

I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn’t lose any voters.

And let us reflect that, having banished from our land that religious intolerance under which mankind so long bled and suffered, we have yet gained little if we countenance a political intolerance as despotic, as wicked, and capable of as bitter and bloody persecutions.

We got some bad hombres and we’re going to get them out.

With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds.

And if I were running ‘The View’, I’d fire Rosie O’Donnell. I mean, I’d look at her right in that fat, ugly face of hers, I’d say ‘Rosie, you’re fired.’

Much has been given us, and much will rightfully be expected from us. We have duties to others and duties to ourselves; and we can shirk neither.

The other candidates — they went in, they didn’t know the air conditioning didn’t work. They sweated like dogs…How are they gonna beat ISIS? I don’t think it’s gonna happen.

We are provincials no longer. The tragic events of the 30 months of vital turmoil through which we have just passed have made us citizens of the world. There can be no turning back.

I have so many fabulous friends who happen to be gay, but I am a traditionalist.

Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty.

I will build a great wall – and nobody builds walls better than me, believe me – and I’ll build them very inexpensively. I will build a great, great wall on our southern border, and I will make Mexico pay for that wall.

My fellow Americans: Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country. My fellow citizens of the world: Ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.

@ariannahuff is unattractive, both inside and out. I fully understand why her former husband left her for a man – he made a good decision.

There is nothing wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America.

Robert Pattinson should not take back Kristen Stewart. She cheated on him like a dog & will do it again – just watch. He can do much better!

Our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off decisions – that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

You know, it really doesn’t matter what the media write as long as you’ve got a young, and beautiful, piece of ass.

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Poster 1973.


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Thank goodness today is Friday.

The medium blue linoleum sink counters at my elementary school are still there.  I remember this because I once transformed the whole nook into a model of the water and surrounding environment of Lake Victoria for a social studies project on a day that feels like yesterday though it was in 1972.

My mother died 30 years ago today, Wednesday, October 9,  between two curtains in the intensive care area of Saint Vincent’s Hospital across the street from school.  The hospital is now a condominium and this morning I could see a line of art-moving trucks emptying art into the building. It was the first semi-positive sign of the day.

I was at school today because I had signed up to help make applesauce for my son’s class. I walked up the old stairs to the 4th floor, through the doors and around the hallway.  Eli was at the front of the line waiting to go in.  He was embarrassed I guess because he didn’t look at me. So I stayed back with the girls at the table on the other side of the room and helped them carve the beloved Honeycrisps and the newly named Divas.  I learned that there are 7,000 different types of apples in the world and that no one knows why.

When we were finished and my son left the room without saying goodbye, I walked to the sink to wash my hands. Also to check that the linoleum was still there. Passing the guest chef I told her that even though I was a parent, I had also been a 4th grader there, too.  Looking into  the sink, thinking of my lake project, my weeks of preparation, my mother’s patient craftwork and good-natured guidance, I had to hide my tears while politely asking her name.  “Victoria,” she said.

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this is a link to a mr beller’s neighborhood entry about the store

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West 10th Street. 1970’s.


My mother and her friends opened an unusual children’s clothing store called “Gee, The Kids Need Clothes” catty-corner from Julius’ (a gay bar and one of the only neighboring businesses still going from that era – The Riviera on 7th Ave is one other). My brothers and I went to P.S. 41, and every afternoon when school let out, we’d race around 6th past Patchin Place, stopping at Sutter’s French Bakery at Greenwich and 10th for a snack, and then run down to “the store.” My mother always coming around the counter for a hug, she would send us to do our homework at the front and then in warm weather we’d all move outside. I played Jacks. My brothers sometimes played stoop ball or running bases in the street. “The store” was a messy, colorful manifestation of our mother’s imagination. Everything she dreamt about was on display: posters from France, drawings, children’s art, her art, postcards, pretty labels she couldn’t part with. My memories are mostly the sounds of children and adults talking talking talking. And the smell of coffee and gumballs mixing together. Chinese food coming in around dinner time. Walking home as a family – arms slung around each other other’s shoulders, no idea that the days’ end would ever end. My mother was a pottery and painting student whose work stopped for domestic life and getting through the day. Gee The Kids became her canvas and her wheel. It was a noble medium in that era. It was a time when having a mother with a store on 10th Street was something special.

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The kids need clothes.

Wondering if anyone will find this blog. Or remembers this children’s clothing store from the 70’s. It’s not a lament. It’s a store.

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