Election Day Tuesday. I’m of 2 minds if Trump wins: 1. GET THE FUCK OUT OF DODGE. 2. Stay and fight the good fight. I’ll probably do option 2; more’s the pity. Grendel’s F.I.V. makes relocating with him internationally nigh impossible, and he’s too much of a boon to me to even THINK of re-locating without him. Butch, sure; our relationship has, sadly, deteriorated to the point where he only tolerates me because I pay him.
More of this anon; I’m sleepy.
Arguing for my independence with my trust lords has gotten really old, really fast. See, I’m like a poor man’s Brittany Spears: all my money is in a special needs trust, dispensed as need be by my Trustees: Gil Roth and Peter Johnson. Gil, I’ve been friends with since St. John’s. Peter does this for a living, & cuts me a world of always legal and ethical slack. More tomorrow. Nighty-night.