Janie Junebug Righting & Editing

WHAT WEDNESDAY: VOTING

2026-10-21T00:59:16.215-04:00

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

This week's question is the following: What do you do about voting?

Do you vote by mail, vote early in person, or vote on election day? Whatever you choose, it's voting that matters, and now, more than ever, it's important to vote

BLUE

I vote by mail. In the past I needed to renew my request for a mail-in ballot every four years, I think. Now I have to request my ballot every year. I always receive an email telling me my ballot has been received.

That email has arrived in my inbox, and, of course, I voted blue.

Although 🟧 disparages voting by mail, he votes by mail.

Quite a few years ago (before I knew them so it was prior to 2010), Carol and her son, David, went to vote in person on election day. They were told David wasn't allowed to vote. No one could or would tell them why, and they didn't know what to do.

So Carol voted, and they left. When the next election arrived, David was allowed to vote.

What would you do if you or a loved one were denied the right to vote?

Here's some information that might be helpful.

Before you head to your polling place, make sure it is your polling place and make sure you're registered to vote. You can verify your registration by using this online tool, or you can call your local election office. If it turns out you aren't registered, all hope is not lost. Some states allow same-day registration.This tool will help you find your state’s online registration application.

Same-day voter laws are here. You can also ask a poll worker at your correct polling location for a same-day registration form. Complete the form and then ask for a “conditional ballot.” A conditional ballot allows election officials to count your vote after verifying your voter eligibility.

The felon has made a big deal out of requiring identification to vote, saying you can't go to a grocery store to buy a loaf of bread without showing an ID, which we all know is another one of his lies, but it is important to have any ID required by your state when you vote in person. This webpage provides info about the 36 states that require ID and what kind of ID they require. It also lists the exceptions to providing ID.

When you know your polling place and the hours it's open, you know you're registered, and you have your ID ready, here's what to do if you're told you can't vote.

If you're told the voting machines don't work, then ask for a paper ballot.
If you're in line when the polls close, don't let election officials turn you away. Stay in line. You have a legal right to vote.
If you're told you're not a registered voter, ask the election workers to check again and to check the list of supplemental voters. If they still can't find your name, ask them to check if you're at the correct polling place.
If someone claims you aren't allowed to vote, then ask to cast a provisional ballot. Provisional ballots are available in every state except Idaho and Minnesota.

If you aren't given a provisional ballot, call an election hotline for help.

English: 866-OUR-VOTE/866-687-8683, the Lawyers’ Committee for Civil Rights Under Law

Spanish: 888-VE-Y-VOTA/888-839-8682, the National Association of Latino Elected and Appointed Officials Education Fund

Asian Languages: 888-API-VOTE/888-274-8683, Asian and Pacific Islander American Vote

Arabic: 844-YALLA-US/844-925-5287, Arab American Institute

If someone tries to frighten you into not voting or tries to get you to vote or not vote for a particular candidate, call one of the hotlines listed above and take down any information you can get, such as the names of poll workers, information about the person intimidating you, and names of witnesses. Later, call the FBI at 800-225-5324.

All of this excellent information comes from an article by attorney Karen Figueroa that was published by Katie Couric Media at https://katiecouric.com/news/politics-and-policy/what-happens-if-your-vote-is-challenged/.

HAPPY VOTING!

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

This post is my last this week and probably my last until the mid-terms. I'll try to check on your blogs when I have a chance. I'm overwhelmed by stuff that must be done.

MEME MONDAY

2026-10-19T19:03:12.714-04:00

I wish I had a dollar for every time a man told me I should smile. The sky would have opened so riches could pour down upon me.

I also hate that bullshit about it takes more muscles to frown than to smile. No, it does not. When people claim I'm frowning, my face is relaxed.

Do you have a remote control and whatever it controlled broke a long time ago? How about an eraser for the pencils we haven't used in 20 years?

But these aren't immigrants in Ohio eating cats & dogs. Whatever happened to that scare tactic?

Katie made it five days. What lasted longer?

The Mooch is probably pretty happy to have his record broken.

Wow! Kim looks so young and innocent.

tee-hee

This lie continues to be a favorite with the pedophile.

He sure is, Dr. Richardson.

I hope you can access the following:
This is seriously the funniest thing I’ve seen in WEEKS 😂🤣😂 - from Nick Muller on Instagram 👏👏👏

- The Dangerous Ones

Read on Substack

DISCOMBOBULATED

2026-10-16T01:28:23.173-04:00

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I didn't provide you with a WHAT WEDNESDAY this week because I thought Tuesday was Wednesday and it was too late to prepare the post. I swear even Alexa told me it was Wednesday on Tuesday. Then the next day arrived and it was Wednesday all over again and once again, too late.

Changing days to confuse me must be part of a vast right-wing conspiracy. But I know what day it is today. It's Sunday, or maybe Thursday, and don't you forget it.

The summer and now autumn have been nasty to me by encouraging my eczema to spread and itch. Currently I have eczema welts under my boobs. I am not taking a photo to share with you because you would probably get a peek at my amazing bosoms. I know some of you long to see my fabulous tits. I'm not naming names. You know who you are. It's you, and it's YOU.

Shame on you.

Alice has to see Dr. G today to get her bordatella vaccine. The poor girl will panic at Dr. G's touch.

I have all sorts of projects underway in the house. One is in the refrigerator. It's not finished, but I'll show you what I've done so far.

See the black-and-white liner under the milk and big Tupperware bowl of salad?

The liner is fabric and it can be cleaned in the washing machine.

As I add the liner, I'm washing the shelves and walls of the refrigerator and I'm reorganizing the shelves. Some of the shelves won't go back in because I never have enough storage space for tall items.

The liner is a bit thick, so it provides a nice cushion for all the drinks and food that have to live in the refrigerator.

I'm happy with it.

I haven't lined the fruit/veggie drawers yet. I don't have any fresh veggies at the moment ––only fruit, so I have lime in one drawer and strawberry in the other.

I got my flu and COVID vaccinations yesterday, both in my left arm. If my arm is sore, I've been too hard at it to notice.

I'm relieved the felon backed off from live streaming the execution of Nidal Hasan, but it never should have been up for discussion.

This post is my last for this week. I look forward to seeing you all on Monday. Hope you have a great weekend.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MEME MONDAY

2026-10-12T03:09:35.177-04:00

VOTE BLUE!

VOTE EARLY!

I've already voted. Have you?

💙💙💙💙💙💙

Mowing lawns, pushing a broom, scrubbing toilets -- any of those jobs would be perfect for Little Johnson.

I'm about as worried by books in a school library as I am by drag queens reading to children.

When I see someone whine about children being harmed by drag queens, I say, "Give me names, dates, and locations. Tell me how the children were harmed." Then I provide information about school shootings––the real danger to children.

The whiner never responds.

Children are in danger because of GUNS.

Everyone in the US is in danger because of ICE.

Live streaming an execution is so crude and ugly that it defies credence, but nothing is too low for Hegseth and 🟧, the rapist.There's really no difference between the felon's "grab 'em by the p*ssy" and the frat "boys'" "free p*ssy."

I LIVE WITH TWO DEVILS IN FUR COATS

2026-10-08T03:39:15.431-04:00

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

It rained all day Tuesday. Non-stop. Princess demonstrated great bravery by running right out for potty breaks. Penelope used to be the brave one, while Princess preferred not to have her perfect fur dampened. Then I remembered Princess took Penelope's place as

Protector and Comandor

so it made sense that Princess took the lead on going out.

Alice declined to join her best friend. After a while her eyeballs turned yellow and she had her legs crossed so tight I didn't think she'd be able to uncross them. About 10 p.m. the rain stopped for 15 minutes and with a lot of encouragement, Alice followed Princess into the rising waters.

If you've known me very long, then you know what happens to my back yard when we have serious rain. Lake Junebug is full. Here's what it looked like Wednesday morning.

So I figured I'd better go out to hook up the pump and send some of that water out to the street. I haven't needed to use the pump in at least a year so I had to get it out, clean off the cover, untangle the hose, untangle the extension cord, get everything in the right spot, and on and on and on. I was out there wading around for a little more than an hour. The girls had to stay inside because the gate was open.

Finally, everything was done and water was running out of the hose at the end of the driveway. I headed for the door, happy I could take off my wet sandals and slide my tired feet into the fuzzy purple slippers that waited for me in the laundry toom. Yeah, those nice, comfy slippers that were between the washing machine and the dryer. Where I left them, right?

Except they weren't there.

No problem. I also had some blue slippers nearby.

Blue slippers? Only one was there.

I walked into the kitchen and found one of the purple slippers.

Yup. There it was. Upside down in the doggy water bowl.

What the hell? I said.

Princess went one way, and Alice went the other way.

I put on the single blue slipper and headed to the family room, where I found the other purple slipper on the couch, sopping wet. It must have taken a bath in a doggy water bowl, too.

The mystery of the missing blue slipper remained. I found it later when I went in the bathroom.

It was in the toilet.

Charges have been brought against two dogs who were previously named as persons of interest in the case.

PRINCESS –– LEADER OF THE PACK. Charge 1. Engaging in Major Shenanigans, including the theft of 3 slippers. Charge 2. Impersonating a well-behaved dog who graduated from an expensive training school. Charge 3. Laughing at Mommy when she found a slipper in the toilet.

ALICE –– MEMBER OF THE PACK. Charge 1. Aiding and abetting Major Shenanigans. Charge 2. Impersonating a dog too frightened to engage in bad behavior. Charge 3. Hasn't stopped snickering at Mommy since Mommy stomped into the family room wearing one blue slipper.

Trial scheduled to commence October 20. Snowbird Gramma scheduled to return October 16. Devils in fur coats will be found innocent before trial begins.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

This post is my last for this week. See you Monday.

BEFORE THERE WAS LINDSAY CLANCY THERE WAS ANDREA YATES

2026-10-07T06:00:00.000-04:00

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Instead of asking you a new WHAT WEDNESDAY question, I want to return to the subject I brought up Sept. 16 in WHAT WEDNESDAY: A TOUCHY SUBJECT.

I realize some of you don't know who Lindsay Clancy is, or you don't want to think about women who kill their own children. But the more I learn about postpartum depression, and especially about the horror of postpartum psychosis, the more I realize this issue pertaining to women's mental health does not receive the attention, and thus, the treatment, it should.

That's no great surprise since it only happens to women and doctors so often ignore women's symptoms and women's pains and women's fears and women's thoughts.

For more than 20 years, I told every doctor I saw that I had a headache nearly every day. Terrible headaches. Every. Damn. Day. We moved around quite a bit, so I saw a lot of different doctors. The doctors who delivered my babies. My primary care physicians. Doctors in Kansas, Indiana, Washington, two parts of Maryland.

They said you have tension headaches. They said you have sinus headaches. They said there's no reason for these headaches you say you're experiencing. If you take this antihistamine it should make your headaches go away. If you'll rest for a while it should make your headaches go away. There's really nothing you can do for these headaches since there's no reason for them. Take some Tylenol™.

My head hurt so much that at times I felt as if I couldn't think. It was a constant battle to function. I was tired all the time. I never got enough sleep. And I was irritable. Boy! Was I irritable. I could explode in anger. The hopelessness was probably the worst part. I was nobody and nothing and I was never going to be anyone.

Then when I was in my early 40s, X became ill, and because of his illness, I saw a therapist who told me I should see a doctor to ask for an antidepressant. I followed through. Within a week of taking the new medication, the headaches went away. I tutored a college student who pronounced the word chimney as chimbley and it didn't infuriate me.

I was still tired, and I'm tired to this day. I have chronic fatigue. As for the hopelessness . . . let's not go there.

But the headaches, the exhaustion, the irritability, and the hopelessness are all symptoms of depression. I certainly told doctors I was worn out and felt like life was difficult. Not once did a doctor ever ask about the possibility that I could be depressed. I get migraines now, at times, but when I have headaches, Dr. Spooner (my beloved psychiatrist) says they're probably depression headaches and he found a medication that helps with them (off label). I also continue to take an antidepressant and a medication that helps keep my anxiety in a corner instead of bursting out all over the place.

It took more than 20 years for me to start getting the help I needed. As I commence learning about postpartum depression and psychosis, what I have already seen is how difficult it is for women to get help.

I'm going to take time to research these issues, especially as seen through the lens of two famous cases: Andrea Yates and Lindsay Clancy. If reading about them and what they did to their children is unbearable to you, then I understand, but I sincerely hope you will brace yourself and join me in learning about this plague that afflicts only women because you never know if a young mother in your neighborhood might need help, or your sister who had a baby at 43, or some woman you've never met before who is hearing voices telling her to kill her children and you could make the difference between whether she gets help and those children live. Let's educate ourselves about what happens to these women and what symptoms and signs we should anticipate.

The latest news about Lindsay Clancy is she will be retried. She remains hospitalized.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MOO MEME MONDAY

2026-10-05T06:00:00.000-04:00

A NEW FRIEND

2026-10-01T06:00:00.000-04:00

This little guy is living in my bathtub. I've moved in there with him. We've become close friends.

Protector and Comandor Princess brings us gnats to eat. Alice turns on the water sometimes.

This post is my last this week. I'll see you Monday.

WHERE WEDNESDAY: VIRGINITY

2026-09-30T06:00:00.000-04:00

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I'm getting pretty nosy this week, but some curiosity between blogger buddies can be fun.

My question today is the following: Where did you lose your virginity? For bonus points, you can tell us how old you were. For even more bonus points, you can identify your partner, as long as it won't cause harm to that person.

To get the fun and games started, I'll answer the questions myself. I lost my virginity in the backseat of a blue Ford Mustang 💙 on Valentine's Day 💖💖when I was 17, but about to turn 18, because my birthday is February 23rd.

As you probably know, the backseat of a Mustang is small and cramped, or at least it was in that old Mustang. The year was 1977––also the year I graduated from high school. But I was young, skinny, and nimble, and able to perform sexual gymnastics in a confined space. 💋💋💏😘😗😙😚

The boy and I were desperate to lose our virginity together. We were madly in love and thought we would get married and adore each other forever. We were going to have three children and name one of our sons Paul for Paul McCartney because we loved The Beatles so much. 💕💞🥰💘💗💖💓💑💘💝💕

That didn't happen. None of it happened.

His name was Tom, and he broke my heart the following year. 💔💔💔💔💔

I was a freshman at a college in our hometown; he was a year younger and still in high school. He was busy with high school stuff, including high school girls.

Boo-hoo. He was such a brat that he wanted to be involved with other girls, yet he wanted me and didn't want me to date anyone else. That was not going to happen. He was a huge cry baby about it. The stress and anxiety were terrible for me.

I was glad when he was completely out of my life, but at least he performed the task of breaking my hymen so I didn't have to wonder when, where, and with whom it would happen.

Okay. I've revealed my secrets.

PLEASE SHARE YOUR ANSWERS IN YOUR COMMENT!!! THE WORLD WANTS TO KNOW.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

RANDY STRIKES AGAIN

2026-09-29T06:00:00.000-04:00

Below are two of the ads the felon and his villains have created using OUR money. I understand if you don't want to watch them, but I urge you to do so. He's telling us what he's going to do, the same way he told us what he was going to do before January 6th.

FINAL MEME MONDAY OF SEPTEMBER

2026-09-28T06:00:00.000-04:00

This is no meme. Yesterday was my beloved Carol's 88th birthday. The snow bird will return to Jacksonville before October ends. She has not yet met her new granddog, Alice. If you would like to wish Carol a happy birthday, please say so in your comment and I will convey your good wishes to her.

Now, on to the memes.

With all the troubles we have in these United States, Tommy Tuberville, idiot senator from Alabama, is worried the airlines have been taken over by pilots, air traffic controllers, and attendants who identify as furries. I am not making this up, but he is. And of course, Democrats are at fault for this catastrophe.

Tuberville gave a 20-minute speech on the floor of the senate, not about gas prices, food prices, or the Epstein files, but about the airline furries. He said passengers might be flown by a pilot with a "deranged fetish of dressing up like an animal."

🟧 banned CNN, MSNOW, and Politico from covering him last week and took away their press passes at the White House because their stories are "fake news," according to the biggest liar on the planet. A judge ordered their credentials be restored temporarily, which kinda, sorta happened, before 🟠 banned them again. When the press banded together to not step in for CNN as the press pool, it was about time, but it was also fine with me if I didn't hear the sound of his ugly voice while he kissed up to the communist dictator of China.

SADNESS SET IN WEDNESDAY

2026-09-25T06:00:00.000-04:00

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I didn't have to work Wednesday, so I asked the girls' Auntie Maureen if she'd like to go out gallivanting around with me. Maureen expressed a willingness to gallivant that pleased me greatly.

I picked up Maureen in Steve*, the redmobile 🚗🚗🚗, and off we drove, two gad abouts. Before we could continue our good times, I had to stop by the office to see my favorite IT guys briefly. Wouldn't take more than 10 minutes. I couldn't take Maureen in with me (secrets abound within), but she didn't mind waiting with Steve.

The security guard, Will, met me at the office door, only to tell me IT is no more. "Bob" & "Brian" had been fired as part of a sweep across the country to get rid of IT employees. I know the company is switching over to AI, but does that mean IT people are no longer needed to discipline our computers when they misbehave?

Bob and Brian were long-term employees who had assisted me numerous times in the office or over the phone after I became a remote employee. They were kind, always made information clear, and sometimes we shot the shit for a few minutes. I hope they've moved on to better jobs where they are appreciated, because the company I work for appreciates no one. Values no one.

Will walked around the floor with me as we talked about how much the company has changed for the worse. The fourth floor of the office building that the business spent more than a million dollars to remodel is a ghost town. The return to office was a failure. Most employees simply wouldn't do it. They quit and got remote jobs if they weren't granted a work-from-home accommodation as I was.

Workers are also sick of ever changing metrics that can never be met, benefits taken away, wages that don't come close to meeting the cost of living. You'd think we're Wal-Mart employees. I have a college degree and multiple accreditations and licenses. I was criticized recently for saying okay too many times during a phone call with a client. How many more nits are there to pick?

I told Maureen about my beloved IT guys as we took off for Town Center (an upscale shopping center I seldom visit because it's far away and the traffic is horrible), where we planned on having lunch. The rain already coming down hard at the office became a deluge through which we could barely see. ⛈️🚘😒

But we arrived safely and enjoyed a nice lunch together before heading home in rush hour traffic that began before 4 p.m. We used the time between slow-moving vehicles to vent to one another about how much we despise 🟧 and ICE.

The two best dogs in the world greeted me when I returned to our home. But I felt a heaviness that wouldn't go away. A sadness for employees who have done nothing wrong but are fired after years of hard work. The never ending anxiety for our country and what the felon did yesterday, today, and what he might do tomorrow.

I awoke multiple times Wednesday night and had nightmares in which I saw the face of an ugly, old white man threatening me.

Some good news: Alice is making progress. She learns from Princess. Princess' training included a Princess, sit at the conclusion of a walk. I take off her leash, stroke Princess's head, look into her eyes, and say, Princess, free. Then she is allowed to run off to the family room or wreak havoc somewhere else in the house.

After Princess takes off, Alice now sits, waits to have her leash removed, allows me to pet her (which is a big deal), and waits for me to say, Alice, free.

I'm such a proud dog mom.

Junebug, free.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P,S. I'm off this weekend and have lots to do, so I'll see you Monday.

*My vehicles are usually ladies. Steve is an exception, named after former Indiana University basketball superstar Steve Alford, who is now the coach of the Nevada Wolf Pack. He plans on retiring at the end of the 2026-2027 season.

Steve the basketball player, not the car
oo la la
🏀⛹️

WHERE WEDNESDAY: WHERE'S YOUR SAFE PLACE?

2026-09-24T06:00:00.000-04:00

I thought I had this post set to publish Wednesday at 6 a.m. Clearly, I did not. I hope it works on Thursday.

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Most of us have safe places where we like to put important items. Then we can't remember where the safe places are.

One year Mother bought a blue girdle to give to my oldest sister for Christmas. She put it away somewhere. When it was time to wrap gifts, Mother wandered around saying, Where in the hell is that blue girdle?

She found it the following summer in an entropy-laden closet. She had looked for it there, but I think the blue girdle hid from her because Mother was as mean as a snake.

After my beloved Franklin died a couple of years ago, Dr. G and his staff sent me a nice sympathy card. Also in the envelope were Franklin's paw and nose print, and some of his soft, thick fur.

I appreciated their thoughtfulness so much.

I knew I would want to frame Franklin's paw and nose print with a photo of him in the future, but at the time, his death was so recent and my mourning so painful that I decided to put the special items in a safe place.

Months went by. I wanted to look into framing the items. So I went to get them from the safe place, which I was sure was a drawer in my dressing table.

They weren't there.

I checked the drawers in the wardrobe, because the wardrobe could be a safe place.

Nope.

The dresser drawers? It didn't make sense that they would be my safe place, but maybe . . . .

Nothing.

I asked Maureen (the dogs' Auntie Maureen) if she remembered what I had done with the precious Franklin items . She was here when the envelope arrived. Maureen suggested looking under the couch. Good idea. We were sitting on the couch when I opened the mail. If the things weren't under the couch, maybe they were stuck in the couch.

Zero.

Zip.

Nada.

I continued to search, on and off, checking every drawer and shelf in the house, until I was convinced the prints were gone. I must have accidentally thrown them in the trash.

Then a couple of months ago while I was cleaning up some stuff in the extra bedroom, my eyes rested on one of my filing cabinets and suddenly I knew the second drawer was the safe place.

I was so happy. It had only taken me two years to discover the safe place.

Now, how about you? Where's your safe place? Or safe places? Have you put something important in your safe place and then not been able to find it?

I hope you didn't lose my oldest sister's blue girdle.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P.S. Years later I mentioned the missing blue girdle and no one else in the family remembered it. They thought I was out of my mind. I am out of my mind, but that doesn't mean there wasn't a blue girdle.

He loved asking,
Can I drive you to the store, Miss Daisy Jane?

A WILLY DUNNE WOOTERS POST FROM THE PAST: WILLY DUNNE WOOTERS, THE PALMETTO BUG, AND THE ANTIQUE PLATE FROM NORWAY

2026-09-22T06:00:00.000-04:00

This blog post is from 2014.

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Sunday evening Willy Dunne Wooters and I watched the season finale of Last Tango In Halifax, a romantic show on PBS that we love (WDW says we are just like the main characters). Then we stopped by the bedroom for a visit, just to make sure it hadn't disappeared as rooms sometimes do. After that, we cuddled on the couch in the living room as we said goodnight.

Suddenly I saw a ginormous, gihugic palmetto bug hanging around just below the edge of the fireplace mantel. I squealed and pointed. Willy Dunne Wooters said, Good God, that's a big one (I, too, had made that statement when we checked on the status of the bedroom).

I ran to get one of my yellow shoes, the yellow shoes I don't like very much because they aren't a true yellow. They're mustard.

I used the yellow shoe to try to smack the palmetto bug. The bastard escaped (they always do at first; they like to create a real competition in the area of Person v. Palmetto Bug) and ran up the wall and hid under a plate that's hanging above the mantel.

See the plate with pink roses above the other plate?
He was hiding under the higher plate.

I can't take down the plate to hit the bug, I wailed. Why not? asked WDW.

I'm afraid I'll drop it and break it, I wailed, and my great grandmother brought that plate with her when my family left Norway to live in the U.S. That plate is a Norwegian antique. So is the one under it.

I'll get the bug spray, said Willy Dunne Wooters. Where's the bug spray?

It's on the cart at the back door where I keep the cleaning supplies, I wailed (lots of wailing in this post). But we can't get the spray on the plate. It could damage the plate and my great grandmother brought it to the U.S. from Norway.

Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't escape, said Willy Dunne Wooters.

Then I heard all this fumbling around with the cleaning supplies on the cart at the back door, while I stared at the plate and saw an antenna poke out just a tiny bit at the top of the plate.

Willy Dunne Wooters returned. I can't find the bug spray, said Willy Dunne Wooters.

Jesus Christ, I wailed. I gave him the mustard shoe and went to get the bug spray.

See the big red and white container on the top shelf?

It has a spraying wand on the side that resembles a bright red penis.

That's the bug spray Willy Dunne Wooters couldn't find.

I guess I shouldn't expect much.

He is the man who complained that my glass cleaner was

absolutely worthless when he was actually trying to clean

his glasses with laundry stain remover.

I returned with the bug spray and very carefully sprayed a tiny bit under the edge of the plate. Then a bit more under the opposite side. Then more under the bottom.

Finally the bastard scooted out and headed for the safety of the ceiling. Willy Dunne Wooters stood on my cedar chest, which lives in front of the fireplace that I don't use, and smacked the hell out of the palmetto bug. He hit that m#f! so hard that palmetto guts splattered the wall.

I'm sorry this photo is kind of dark.

Can you see the cedar chest in front of the fireplace?

It has a tapestry on top of it.

I was pretty darn impressed with the way that my WDW

jumped up there and smacked the palmetto bug

with the mustard shoe.

The late Mr. Palmetto fell on the mantel. I scooped him up with some toilet paper and flushed him. And, yes, I wailed the entire time.

Wooters + Junebug = 100 points

Palmetto Bastard = 0 points

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MEMIE MONDAY MITCHIE MOE

2026-09-21T06:00:00.000-04:00

Did the nurse forget to put in the old man's dentures?

Or is his face like this because of a stroke?

He clearly doesn't know what he's doing. He tried to vote with the Democrats and had to be told to change his vote.

The Romney family no longer takes their dog along on vacations.

The felon often has that same toddler look, but it also extends to tantrums.

Get out of there before the bomb goes off!

Princess says, Ich werde ihm das hässliche Gesicht abbeißen.

Alice says, Grrrrrrr. And we are Shepherds -- not Shepards.

WHAT WEDNESDAY? A TOUCHY SUBJECT

2026-09-16T06:00:00.000-04:00

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I used to ask a question every week on my blog and I've decided to start again, even if it doesn't happen every week.This week I've chosen something sensitive. I trust you all not to engage in fisticuffs.

The question is the following: What do you think about the recent trial––or perhaps I should say mistrial––of Lindsay Clancy?

Clancy was charged with three counts of first-degree murder for killing her three children on January 24, 2023: Five-year-old Cora, Three-year-old Dawson, and Eight-month old Callan. She was also charged with three counts of suffocation or strangulation because of the method of death. These charges were dropped as redundant before the trial began.

The trial began in July, 2026. Clancy's lawyers argued an insanity defense.

When the arguments ended. jurors deliberated and were unable to reach a verdict because of one holdout juror. Eleven jurors voted to acquit Clancy. One refused and was described as acknowledging he held doubt about Clancy's guilt but would not follow the judge's instructions to apply that doubt to his vote.

Now, I want you to vote. Lindsay Clancy: Guilty as charged or not guilty by reason of insanity. What do you know about the case that led you to your decision?

I'm not going to tell you what I think, yet, but I bet you can guess.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MID-SEPTEMBER MEME MONDAY

2026-09-14T00:31:14.198-04:00

Update: Knock me over with a feather. Mitch McConnell is alive, and he's in D.C.

Another Update Now That I've Thought About It: Mitch is in D.C. being pushed around in a wheelchair. That doesn't mean he's alive. The man has been brain dead for a long time.

A few weeks ago, Senator Mitch McConnell's staff said he would return to work on September 14th––today. The 14th morphed into not knowing when McConnell will show his dried-up prune face.

If you think I'm obsessed with Mitch McConnell's disappearance, maybe it's because I am. The governor of Kentucky has demanded proof of life and received nothing.

Many people have criticized Governor Beshear for not bursting into the hospital or rehab center where McConnell is allegedly a patient to see McConnell for himself. But even a corpse has rights under HIPAA.

Flags in St. Augustine, Florida, on 9/11. Each flag bears the name of someone killed on that day in 2001.

Honoring The Dogs of 9/11

WE'RE WALKIN' HERE

2026-09-11T03:00:22.260-04:00

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

During the month of September, Princess, Alice, and I are walking at least a mile every day for an American Cancer Society fundraiser. If you are on Facebook and feel inclined to visit us there to make a donation, we would appreciate it.

You can go to https://www.facebook.com/janie.goltz.7/. I've pinned the fundraising post to the top of the page.

Walking the girls at the same time gives me some serious exercise. Princess walks beautifully at heel and serves as a mentor to Alice. Alice starts out walking on my left before she starts to bob and weave as if she's Ratso Rizzo in New York City traffic. Princess remains calm while Alice wanders and I get our new kid back into position.

I've lost some loved ones to cancer. Carol's daughter, DeeDee, whose birthday was the day before mine, was taken from us several years ago. It's a pain that doesn't leave Carol's heart.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

INTRODUCING ALICE

2026-09-08T06:00:00.000-04:00

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Alice* came to us as a six-year-old foster dog through Mike at Florida Urgent Rescue [FUR]. No one knows where she came from, but it's clear she had a hard life. She was living on the streets in a different county, picked up as a stray, and ended up in a kill shelter, where Mike rescued her.

I've worked with shy, unsocialized dogs more than once. Penelope is the most recent example. That's why I had so many photos of Penny hiding behind the furniture or in my closet. But I think the word to describe Alice is traumatized.

It's difficult for me to tell you this part of Alice's story, but Mike said he thought Alice had been beaten.

Alice had her first appointment with Dr. G last week. Dr. G said she acts like a dog that's been beaten. Every time I tell that part of Alice's story my throat clutches and closes up and I start to cry.

Now I've told you, so let's focus on Alice's progress.

Everything with Alice has been baby steps. At first, she wanted to spend all her time on the bed in my bedroom. Not long after she joined us, Alice told me in this video, Stay away. Do not touch me. Do not look at me. Leave me alone. You are not safe.

Mike provided a baby gate to go across the bedroom door so Alice could stay in the bedroom on her own if she preferred, but she spent so much time in the bedroom that she built a new bathroom next to the bed.

We had to take action. I put a leash on Alice, which upset her so much that she pooped in the bed, and led her to the family room. I closed the gate behind us so she had to stay out of the bedroom. She likes the doggie bed in the corner of the family room that's placed a bit behind the couch.

During the past week, Alice has rested her weary bones on Princess' bed a few times. That's a lot of progress because it means she's out in the open.

I was shocked when she started to hop up on the couch. At first, she stayed in the far corner of the couch and faced away from me.

More progress. She can get closer to me on the couch and face me.

For a long time, Alice couldn't run past me when she came in the back door. I had to stand between the washer and dryer with my back to her. Then she would come in the door.

Now she's able to dash past me while I'm standing in the doorway facing her. I give her lots of praise.

I would like to pet Alice, but it's too much for her. When I adjust her collar, put on her leash, any time I have to be close to her, I scratch her neck and back, tickle her behind her ears, and pet her till I've loosened enough Alice hair to knit Christmas stockings for everyone I know.

I know she likes these moments. But they are rare. I wonder if and when the time will come that Alice doesn't flinch when I put out my hand.

Alice became an official member of our family during August. Alice and Princess are devoted to one another. The relationship is good for both of them.

We'll have Alice stories in the future.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

*The shelter gave Alice a different name. She wasn't attached to it, and Mike said I had naming rights so she is Alice. We'll talk about names another day.

MEME MONDAY

2026-09-07T06:00:00.000-04:00

The new dress code in the land of the felons.

The felon made Little Marco wear this outfit
so he could stand in front of him.

Mitch McConnell has settled into his rehab facility and
likes it so much he might not ever leave.

It's far longer than 54 days now.

Eric Blackerby

August 15 at 5:18 PM

Donald Trump never made Wharton’s Dean’s List. He never graduated with honors. The 1968 commencement program from the University of Pennsylvania lists every cum laude, magna cum laude and summa cum laude student in his class, and his name isn’t on it. Decades of Trump insisting he finished first in his class turned out to be a goddamn lie nobody bothered to check until reporters finally pulled the actual paperwork.

Jared Kushner got into Harvard the same way. His father Charles Kushner pledged $2.5 million  to the school in 1998, paid out in yearly installments of $250k, and Jared was accepted the following year. Administrators at his high school told journalist Daniel Golden his grades and test scores didn’t come close to warranting it. Kushner Companies calls the connection false. The check cleared anyway.

Jim Jordan earned a law degree from Capital University in 2001. He never took the bar exam. He’s spent years running the House Judiciary Committee, lecturing witnesses and prosecutors about the law, and he’s not a licensed attorney in any state. Nobody stopped him. Nobody in his own party seems to give a damn.

Rand Paul let his real ophthalmology certification from the American Board of Ophthalmology lapse in 2005. So he founded his own certifying board, named himself president, put his wife and father in law in charge, and called himself board certified for over a decade. The board he invented wasn’t recognized by the American Board of Medical Specialties, the American Medical Association or the state of Kentucky.

Mike Johnson took a job in 2010 as founding dean of a law school in Shreveport, Louisiana. He gave a speech about how it couldn’t fail. It never enrolled a single student. It never opened its doors. It collapsed after the accreditation fell through, and Johnson doesn’t bring it up these days.

Sources: Daily Pennsylvanian, ProPublica, Punchbowl News, Snopes, Associated Press

Let's conclude with a little satire from Andy Borowitz.

August 4

FRANKFORT, KENTUCKY—Calling the situation “unacceptable to the people of my state,” on Tuesday Kentucky Governor Andy Beshear demanded to know whether or not Senator Rand Paul was brain-dead.

“I have viewed disturbing video taken last week in the US Senate in which Senator Paul appears to be brain-dead,” Beshear told reporters. “As governor, I demand that he inform Kentuckians about his status—if, in fact, he is capable of human speech.”

Beshear said he became “alarmed” when he viewed the video, in which Paul exhibited “brain activity consistent with that of a coma patient or Tommy Tuberville.”

The governor’s announcement was only the latest controversy to embroil Paul, just days after shocking evidence emerged that he may have been created in a lab leak.

Someone give him a little shove.
Please.

I STILL HAVE HOPE

2026-09-03T06:26:34.531-04:00

Dear Hearts and Gentle People,

I know the stupidity is overwhelming. The high prices are exhausting. Injuries and deaths in the made-up war are maddening. The ~~Supreme~~ felon's Court handed him a win on the bunker, where Carol and I think he plans to hide in 2029 so he can stay in place without running in 2028. (Go, little blood clot, go.)

Mid-terms are coming up. We know the felon's gang plans on cheating. We know voter turn-out for mid-terms can be low.

But a recent study by the University of Massachusetts Amherst found that nearly 2/3 of Americans are fed-up with the felon,* and those folks aren't all Democrats.

Even so, the Democrats need to get their act together. As much as I enjoy hearing Senator Jon Ossoff of Georgia call the felon a crook, our message has to be more focused than We're not him.

Although I continue to believe the Epstein Files are what it's all about and a lot of people who are in those files belong in prison, how about this message:

IT'S THE ECONOMY, STUPID!

People somehow believed it when Cankles McGee said he'd bring grocery prices down on Day One. A lot of those people voted with their wallets. (Sadly, they also did not want to vote for an intelligent woman of color who laughed.) Those same people, along with the rest of us who aren't billionaires, are now tired of going to the grocery store and not being able to afford the cheapest chuck roast for the crock pot.

I don't know who we'll nominate in 2028, but we have to settle on a message soon and hammer it home with plans that have coherent points. Polls and studies tell me we're headed in the right direction, and that direction is left.

I also still have hope for our country because of the response to Dolly Parton's death. I haven't heard anyone say anything unkind about her. Not even Little Shitler. We've seen a flood of love, respect, and appreciation for her talent, kindness, and generosity. I'm not a big country music fan, but I happen to think Jolene is one of the greatest songs ever written. Knowing that people care about Dolly cheers me.

My love tap from Princess is better. It's still red and ugly, but the cut has closed.

Does anyone have special plans for the long weekend? I think I only have one more form to fill out and mail tomorrow and then I'll be caught up, but the forms make me so happy I think I'll find some even more meaningless forms to fill out for the fun of it when I'm not filling out forms for work. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, it's nothing but forms, forms, forms. I can't wait. Maybe I'll write a song about the glory of forms. Start giving form parties.

Ah, my life is filled with wonder and amazement.

Oh, and it's still LAKE ONTARIO, my favourite great lake.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

*Fed up with the felon is my wording, not that of the university

Jack, Jack, Jack, how I love you. You're even more pasty faced than I am. Save me from the republicanism of floriduh, Jack. Take me away from it all, the way Calgon in bath water used to do for women. I know you'll never let me down.

BUSYBUSYBUSY

2026-09-01T06:25:07.975-04:00

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I have been busy filling out forms, filing forms, downloading forms, emailing forms, mailing forms . . . have I missed anything that can be done with forms? And I have more to do. Early this afternoon I have an important appointment that will lead to more forms, I'm sure, and I'm already aware of other decisions that must be made that will lead to––what? FORMS!

At least it keeps me off the streets.

I saw an ad for a movie on the Hallmark Channel titled The Curious Caterer, but I thought it said The Curious Catheter. That made me laugh.

I have another boo-boo, but not all bloody like the last time (the link is to the post with the bloody wound in case you didn't see it the first time around and you're wondering what I'm talking about). If the sight of boo-boos turns your stomach, though, scroll down real quick past the photos below with your eyes closed. When you open your eyes maybe you'll be on someone else's blog and you'll have completely missed The Wound of The Week, kind of like when there used to be The Movie of The Week. Boy, that was a long time ago. Anypaw, Princess caused this wound. She is not allowed to paw at me because, of course, her paws are large and very rough. Her nails can be sharp.

Princess is a very good girl, but sometimes we all make mistakes. On Sunday, Princess put her paw on my left arm and before I could say Princess, no, which is the standard thing to say according to her training, or remove the paw, she cut a line near the crook of my elbow like a kid who had joined a '50s style gang and had pulled her shiv on me. I don't remember what I said. I didn't yell at her. I might have said holy shit or something else equally intelligent because it hurt. She knew something bad had happened and hopped down from the couch to watch me from the dining room. She had the worried look on her face that dogs get when they know something bad has happened and they're involved but they don't know what's wrong so all they can do is look like they wanna say holy shit, too. So we were both distressed.

I washed the wound and band-aided it. Here it is Monday with and without the band-aids.

It's still a little sore, but no big deal.

See how the one without band-aids has a shadow on it so those of you with queasy stomachs won't have to rush off to barf? I tell ya, I can come up with some pretty fancy photography when necessary.

Steve Reed at Shadows & Light wishes he could take pictures as good as mine.

My wounds probably look much worse than they really are because my skin is made out of tissue paper. It rips, turns red, and bruises if I barely bump in to anything. That's because I'm a decrepit, old person.

Except I'm not all that decrepit. It bugs me when I watch a movie and somebody retires at 65 and the character is hobbling around, barely able to do anything, can't use a computer, can't remember anything. Bullshit! I left 65 behind a while back and other than the occasional back trouble, I'm pretty crepit (crepit isn't a word, but it might be added to the dictionary if we start using it regularly). I can't afford a yard service, so I mow my own yard. I have two big ole dogs who depend on me.

AND I have forms to fill out!

Princess told the truth when she wrote about our official adoption of her "gest," whose name is, indeed, Alice. We'll be providing more information about Alice soon. She has her first appointment with Dr. G. coming up. Alice will need doggy chill pills because she is terrified of people. She is the most frightened dog I have ever cared for.

I might need chill pills to get through her appointment, too. Maybe I should share with Dr. G.

Talk to ya soon.

Oh! Wait a minute! I almost forgot to say there's no such thing as a fucking Lake America. IT'S LAKE ONTARIO. That moron in D.C. does this stupid shit because it distracts people from the serious shit he's doing, like getting members of our armed forced injured and even killed for no damn reason. STOP MESSING WITH OUR BEAUTIFUL FRIENDS IN CANADA.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MEME MONDAY

2026-08-31T00:52:54.274-04:00

THE WIZARD OF WAS

2026-08-16T03:26:37.977-04:00

HERE A MITCH THERE A MITCH EVERYWHERE A MITCH MITCH

2026-08-14T00:50:40.056-04:00

Dear Governor Andy Beshear of Kentucky.

I know you're frustrated with the Mitch McConnell situation. You haven't seen the senior senator from your state since the middle of June, but you have to learn to ignore all those silly rumors about his health. Yes, he's fallen once or twice but only because some damned democrat tripped him. At the moment he's recovering from eating a tainted jalapeño popper. And it's summer. Why shouldn't he take time off during the summer? Really, Andy, you expect too much.

Stop demanding proof that your esteemed senator is all right. I can tell you for a fact that he's fine. I talked to him on the phone this morning for 20 minutes –– not one minute more and not one minute less. We chatted about the times he froze in public. He explained to me that every time he froze he had finished a chocolate ice cream cone less than five minutes before. Now he knows he shouldn't have ice cream until he gets home at night and Elaine feeds it to him.

What's that, Andy? So many people say they've talked to the Great & Powerful One on the phone but you won't believe he's okay unless you talk to him yourself? Well, I can do better than that. Let me sign off and I'll send you photos of our beloved Senator McConnell. Pictures should convince you he's fine and dandy.

Lots of love to you and the whole state of Kentucky, Andy, from your old pal,

Janie Junebug

And here's my favorite photo of our greatest senator:

I was sure Miss Lindsey was keeping an eye
on Senator McConnell from heaven and
now I know it for a fact!