I'm The Chinese Spy Balloon and I'm Just Looking For Love
I'm so much more than just a bag of hot air.
I just had to post this here, as well as on Medium, because the spy balloon is a lot of fun and also extremely worrisome, not because of the Chinese, but because of, well, ‘Murica.
We will resume our normal posting schedule either later today (but first I’m making a raspberry swirl pound cake — oh, sure, now you want to be friends) or tomorrow, if the Chinese don’t send over a nuke tied to a pigeon.
Oh, hey! Wow, this is embarrassing. Americans almost never look up — I’ve been here lots of times, but nobody ever notices! Ha ha!
Usually, my little jaunts are kept on the down-low. But this time I messed up and got a little too down low, so to speak. Plus, there’s the whole China-Taiwan thing and it’s time to start banging the war drums. Australia is having a kitten over the prospect of China increasing its hold on the Asia-Pacific region.
I mean, can you blame them? Stuck out there in the ocean with nothing but kangaroos and unpronounceable place names?
Isn’t it funny how the stuff that makes the headlines depends on how much the military-industrial complex wants you to know?
And then you react just as predicted, with outrage and recriminations, conveniently ignoring the fact that the U.S. spies on China all the time. Like, 24/7.
And also ignoring the fact that you saw me coming — I mean, duh, look at me — and hid everything important before I got here, just like you always do.
Hel-lo! This is how the world works! Some countries are a real threat, and some countries are the Keystone Cops.
*sigh* I’m just an off-course surveillance balloon looking for love. Yes, OK, I’ve put on a few pounds and I don’t really look like my picture on the dating app anymore. But I really like that picture. I’m young. Virile. I’m only the size of one school bus instead of three.
I like walks on the beach, puppies, a good glass of wine and the occasional cigar, and female spy balloons who are at least two decades younger than me.
I’ve been married three times — in fact, I’m married right now — but that’s strictly on a need-to-know basis, and as a woman on a dating app, you don’t need to know.
Maybe after we have sex.
They shoot Chinese spy balloons, don’t they?
Donald Trump, Jr., exercising his two coked-up brain cells, suggested that Montanans take matters into their own hands and shoot me down.
Okay, Bubba. You do that.
If nobody minds, I’m just going to hang around up here and wait for the next bomb cyclone to push me to Florida. I hear that things are way, way more interesting down there.
If I never see a sheep again as long as I live, it will be too soon.
Let's face it if not for the missing Chinese blimp this would have been just another dull repetitious middle of winter newsless weekend of the same old reposted stories with a few of the words and teaser lines changed. Sigh, booorrrrrriiiiiinnnnnnggggg. Snooze.
At least we could celebrate 'National Ice Cream for breakfast day' on the first Saturday of February. Gotta hand it the ingenuity of the marketeers of Amuricka, they have filled up our calendar (365 *2) with celebratory meaningful days that make jobs, encourage mindless consumption, keep Hallmarks bottom line steady with increasing revenues, etc. Say, was wondering, does it seem a bit strange to eat ice cream for breakfast in early February along the northern tier of states? 🍦🍨🥶❄️
Bev, I know this is completely off topic but can you tell me the biggest differences between Medium and Substack? Thx