Mooner Bags Powerful Women; New Mexico Governor Charms


So. I’ve decided to stop bitching about the blistering Texas heat and my state’s extreme right-wing politicians, and I’m going to get myself a place up to the mountains at Santa Fe, New Mexico. That way, instead of calling out the Roto-Rooter man to separate my balls from my leg, I can escape from the brutal heat and humidity to cool, dry mountain air. They actually add moisture to the air in Santa Fe!

A place over to the Land of Enchantment will also give me respite from the idiocy that is Texas politics. It appears that our legislatures are about to get farther to the right this year. As those silly assholes have already been driving our state’s bus way over to the right shoulder of the road, I fully expect them to race us into the ditch in next year’s legislative sessions.

Santa Fe, on the other hand, is as solidly planted in the left lanes as Texas is on the right. Hell, Santa Fe is so far left they should be driving like the British. Overall, New Mexico is considered to be moderate—sometimes Republican and sometimes smart. Their Republican governor, Susana Martinez, respects Democrats and works together with them to better govern her state. I’m not fully up-to-date with her politically, but I have recently become fully up-to-date with her.

OK, stop. How fucking confusing was that? Try this: I haven’t completed my research on New Mexico politics, so my only thought is that their Governor is a reasonable woman. She isn’t a Rick “The Prick” Perry sort of Republican based upon my research, and she doesn’t seem destined to ruin her entire state just for kicks. Again, my research is in it’s infancy so I’ll make no in-concrete proclamations.

But I did have sex with her. Intimate, tender and sweaty twist-my-hair and shout, “Hallelujah!” sex. It was Governor Susie (she asked me to call her that) and Hilary Clinton and me, and the three of us were sitting down to the fishing dock—legs dangling over the side—swilling icy cold Carta Blanca beers, just like god and I did a couple days ago. And just like a couple days ago when I was there with the big guy, we were deep into the mushroom buttons.

OK, wait again. This was dream sex I’m addressing here and not actual awake and all parties aware sex. Not that I haven’t had sex where all the parties were not awake and aware, but this was a dream for certain. I was certain it was a dream because the circumstances were so akin to god’s last visitation that I made everybody pinch everybody else to be sure that I wasn’t dreaming.

Which, as it turned out, I was.

And somebody help me with this. How, in the fuck, does pinching yourself tell you if it’s a dream or not? Who made that silly shit up? I have dreams wherein I can pinch myself and it “dream hurts” just like a real pinch in awake hurts. If Hilary hadn’t been there the other night I might be bragging that I’d bagged the SEC.-DEF and New Mexico’s governor in actual life. The former Presidential hopeful straightened me out.

“Listen to me, Mooner,” the most honorable Mz. Clinton told me. “Do you really think I’d be blowing you on a rough plank wooden deck, sweating my ass off and getting splinters in my knees while Governor Susie watches? Don’t you think in real life I’d be a bit less submissive?”

Another clue that this was a dream is that in actual life I’d be required to ponder that little question. As a social scientist and unfettered commentator, I might seek further experimentations with Governor Susie and Hilary before answering.

But this was a dream and she had a dream point. “You’re right, my Sweet Baboo,” I told her. She asked me to call her my Sweet Baboo. “In real life Governor Susie isn’t a watcher, she’s a participator. Also, I think I’d likely be the first on their knees at the alter of sex.”

And don’t go getting all pissy on me for revealing the intimate details of my sexing these important women because I’m not going into the details. However, I will say this. First of all, the former first lady isn’t a full-out lesbian, and second, her husband doesn’t fool around on her because she isn’t fun to get nekid with. As for Governor Susie, well…

OK, stop once more. My ADHD has seized control of the mainframe and cloud computers and is garbaging everything in-and-out. I have absolutely no idea where I was going with that other than to say I was going nowhere you give a shit to go. It’s just that there’s been so much going on about gay and lesbian political issues that I guess my subconscious mind wanted a little action with two nice ladies, and my dreamscape painted those two powerful women as willing participants in my fantasies. I often dream of powerful women—some I admire in actual life, and some are Michele Bachmann.

I did awaken from the dream with splinters in my own ass and shoulders, but they could have come from anywhere.

Anyway, I’m packing the animals and taking a trip up to Santa Fe the end of June, first of July. We’re going to find a place for us to use as an escape from Texas whenever our home state gets to be too much. Too fucking hot—we’re off to Santa Fe. Too much asshole right-wing politics—fuck it, we’re headed to New Mexico!

At breakfast this morning we had a round table discussion as to our wish list for the new place. I had Aunt Hilda take notes as family scribe and she somehow managed to screw things up as usual. But it’s what she does and it’s OK by me. Don’t know why I mentioned that, maybe I’m getting a case of the early onset dementia.

Squirt, in her usual opinionated way, had an entire list of wishes. “Here’s my list, Mooner, and the first ten are non-negotiable.”

She rattled off sixteen things she wanted in the Santa Fe abode. Most made sense, but several were ridiculous. “Look, little lady,” I told her, “I’m fine with you having your own bedroom fully furnished with all of that pink girly shit you like. But I will not be bringing Caesar Milan to live with us. I don’t need the Dog Whisperer telling me that I’m a bad parent.”

The Squirt somehow thinks that having the famous dog trainer as her personal confidant would have some magical benefits. I know I’m a decent father to head this herd of animals and I always have their best interests at heart. I’d never stick one of my dogs in a crate wired to the roof of the car and I never beat my pets. I might drown the fucking cat if she shreds any more of the clothes in my closet, but that would be a justifiable homicide.

I built Honor one of those around-the-room cat play scapes with worlds of carpet for use to sharpen her claws. Still that bitch kitty prefers to climb through my closet like she’s repelling the cliffs over to Paleface Park.

Fucking cat.

I want a place near the Plaza so I can walk to coffee and meals and music and all the neat shit that makes Santa Fe so great. I want it to be rustic adobe in style, have a nice kitchen and plenty of charm. Otherwise, I’ll attempt to please the animals’ wish list.

Time to hit the I-streets and look at what’s available. Anybody know a good real estate agent in Santa Fe?

Manana, y’all.

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10 Responses to “Mooner Bags Powerful Women; New Mexico Governor Charms”

  1. squatlo says:

    Gotta question: Would insulting and then leaving the Lone Star State be considered “Messin’ with Texas”? And if you’re only taking on New Mexico on a part time basis to help keep your balls off of your thigh, are you truly an expatriated Texan?
    I’m pretty sure NM has rules against most of your hobbies, Mooner, no matter how cool the place might seem from a distance. My life has been spent pretty much rooted in two different parts of Tennessee, but a brief period of time I lived in Dayton, Ohio. If you want to visit America’s armpit, go to Dayton in the summer. Not only is the place horrible, but everyone there seems to get up on the wrong side of the bed each and every morning. You don’t run into an occasional asshole in Dayton, Ohio. You can’t run into anything else.
    The reason I’m boring you with stories about Ohio is because you might find that to be the case in Santa Fe. First of all, who spells “Fay” with an “Fe”? My chemistry’s a little rusty, but isn’t Fe the symbol the element iron? Santa Iron?
    Sounds like an adventure, though. Hope you’ll keep us up to date on your progress relocating the clan to New Mexico.

  2. I’m with Squat, being a little hesitant. Better make sure to brush up on the local laws, and make friends with the sheriff before moving. You know, hedge your bets…

    And, if you move away from Texas, will your battlecry of “FRP” be more or less effective?

    All in all, good luck on the move. It could be worse, after all…. you could be eyeballing Idaho. At that point, I’d just grab a straight-jacket and hunt you down, for your own sake.

  3. squatlo says:

    Hey, both of you get on over to BJ’s place and read his chainsaw massacree story…

  4. Katy Anders says:

    You can’t leave Texas!

    If you leave, the sane, non-evangelical vote drops in half!

  5. Father-of-the-Year Nominee, Mooner Johnson says:

    Squat. OK, first, I’ll maintain ownership of the ranch and business interests in Texas. But like the businesses, I’mma “semi-retire” from Texas. Been to Dayton–daughter went to Antioch College over to Sulpher Springs, maybe thirty-five miles from Dayton and one son attended Wright State, which is right there.

    I find thatSouthern rednecks are mostly personable assholes who’ll typically say, “Good morning, faggot.” Those mid-states rednecks seem to be a surly lot who key your daughter’s car in silent statement. Her “If God Didn’t Want Us To Be Lesbians Why Did He Make Pussy Taste So Good?” bumper sticker was a magnet for ill behaved Ohioian shitballs. I meant to tell you guys about that bumper sticker when we were at Blogcon 2011.

    Remember that time I said, “I’ve got a funny story to tell you,” and then I forgot what I was gonna say?

    Brandini. Look, if you ever hear me say I’m thinking of buying property in any state that is run by the mormon church, forget the straight jacket and drive a wooden stake through my heart. I’ll have been Devil possessed for certain. As for Fuck Rick Perry…

    FUCK RICK PERRY!!!!!!!!!

    Katy. Darlin, I’ll still be standing at your side in the voting booth. I’ll still be giving the motherfuckers as much shit as possible. It’s just that some of it will be coming via the green chili and cool mountain aired environs of Santa Fe.

  6. squatlo says:

    One of the only cool things about Dayton was Wright-Patterson Air Force Base there in town. One night they had a SAC scramble and sent up about twenty B-52s over our apartment complex, rattled shit off of the shelves and woke up every person in half of Ohio.

    My very own lovely daughter had a bumper sticker that read “Polite women seldom make history” or something like that, and it got her a lot of negative attention. At least that’s what I thought was causing some of the hostility she would encounter in traffic. Might have been the fact that she tended to wave at folks with a one finger salute a lot, though. Kid was born middle finger first…

    Katy’s right. If you move out of Texas the average IQ of the state will drop twenty points. Think of the children, Mooner!

  7. chrisinphx says:

    Well, I guess Ill be the first one to break with the crowd…Santa Fe sounds like a great idea. A place to get away from all the bullshit and bullshit spewers is just what the Dr should have ordered.

  8. Cynthianne says:

    Mooner, I live in northeast Albuquerque, about 40 miles south of Santa Fe…

    I’d like to join in with the folks riffin’ on you, but you are pretty much dead-on about Santa Fe.. It’s a lot cooler and dryer (at 7,000 feet) than Austin. And NM is a purple state, trending blue. Our fundies are proudly stupid, but not as obnoxious about it as the Texan variant, and liberals/moderates outnumber our Repubs, who do sometimes manage to approach reality when the chips are down. The Gov. seems to be mostly sane, although she is currently taking flack for trying to institute abstinence-only sex ed, and thinks that giving tax breaks and subsidies to big business is the best way to improve the economy of the state (and is taking some flack for that too).

    I think one big difference between TX and NM is that the right-wing gets a lot of push-back here, and they never hear a discouraging word in TX.

    If you do establish a vacation home here, you can join in the push-back.

  9. admin says:

    Squat. Is that why you roll with a quart jar of pre-mixed B-52’s in their own pretty cooler?

    Chris. How’s it hanging? Yeppers, getting a break from the bullshit is exactly what the doctor ordered.

    Cynthianne. OK, first, allow me to say that I’ve been wondering how to attract your cute little bottom over to here. Your kind and thoughtful remarks over to Squattie’s place have struck several of my chords.

    Second, I find it difficult to think that Governor Susie can preach abstinance to anyone. Unless, of course, she’s preaching the abstinance of inhibitions.

    Third, “Push Back” is my middle name, and back-talk is my game.

    Thanks for stopping by.

  10. Moving might not be the answer to the situation. Sometimes, we feel that it is the answer, but uprooting yourself and starting over is so much work. Might as well fix things here.

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