mr. in surgery now, poor baby. we gonna pray for him that he lives. my body remembers being cut open, my body remembers his last cutting and removing, it was so terrifying we thought he would die after surgery. b. said if it happened again she'd put him down. thankful he's having surgery that may save him. the alternative is impossible. in nature he would be dead by eating human trash. i was with the pointers and somebody smashed a vase on the concrete ball sculpture where the dogs and children play. with lulu i found smashed glass on the midway where the children sled and the dogs play. i think about the sick fuck trump every day, i just can't help it, i know it rots the soul like evil will. but what gets me most is the greatest threat to life is not just the pentagon or monsanto, it's weaponized hate, it's human stupidity and evil—though i guess those two are one and the same thing. thus we live in obombaland in trumpworld. let us pray.