Dingus of the Week: Mike Pence

No country for that old man

Shuffling about Iowa to the tepid applause of Midwesterners too nice to tell him they hate him to his face, Mike Pence continues to slink along.

In a divided country the only thing most Americans can agree on is that they don’t like Mike Pence.

It’s America. People are fighting over Budweiser. But the thing that draws us together is a mutual distain for Mike Pence.

He’s no one’s hero. Conservatives hate him because he didn’t over throw the election. Liberals hate him because he once wrote a review of Mulan that ended with the conclusion, “Moral of story: women in military, bad idea.”

You almost have to feel bad for a guy who is despised by his own team because he wouldn’t subvert the norms of democracy and install a dictator. And I would feel bad, maybe, but he’s walking around Iowa like he’s a hero because he didn’t SUBVERT THE NORMS OF DEMOCRACY AND INSTALL A DICTATOR.

Sir, that’s is the bare minimum.

That is actually the job. You don’t get a pat on the back for not overthrowing the government.

You do not win medals because you were like, “Hey maybe it’s a bad idea to light the halls of Congress on fire.”

You do not get to declare yourself a champion for America because you once said, “I might be wrong about this, but perhaps let’s not encourage a coup.”

In the New York Times, Katherine Miller, wrote about Pence’s tepid reception at the Iowa GOP’s Lincoln dinner last Friday, noting:

At first, at that dinner in Iowa last week, Mr. Pence talked brightly, in the expectation of applause, which came, sort of, at muted levels, muted even for the kinds of things — like his abortion politics — that resulted in applause for others.

This was tepid, indifferent clapping, a kind of subtle hell worse than booing, where people who knew you have forgotten you. Mr. Pence kept talking, the delivery staying even and polished, the brightness fading, talking about restoring civility. “So I thank you for hearing me out tonight,” he said, almost somber.

If someone wrote about me like that in the pages of the New York Times I would simply bury myself in the ground. I would close up shop, run back home to Indiana, watch some Hoosier basketball, eat some sugar cream pie , and you would never hear from me again.

Side note: The official state pie of Indiana is also called “Desperation Pie.” And I can think of nothing more Midwestern than being proud of your broke-ass, struggle pie.

And I want to add to this because it would actually be better to be booed at this point. Because that would show that people actually cared about you enough to boo. But no one does. It’s just the quiet disinterested applause of a room full of people who all think you were paid off by George Soros to swing the election for Biden.¹

No one is forcing Pence to do this. Literally no one wants him out there. Absolutely no one does. He’s struggling to raise money. Even his target demographic, flies, seem to have given up on him. But Mike Pence pences forth, shuffling through the cornfields of the Midwest, the poster boy for getting his face eaten off by leopards by the party of leopards that will eat your face off.

I’ve been out to several events for Republican candidates and every time I bring up Mike Pence, it’s like the person I’m talking to just smelled a hog confinement. And these are his people. The ones on his team.

Sir, go home, eat your struggle pie.

Runner Up: People Who Are Trying to Give Me Tomatoes

It’s that time of year when the bounty of the earth becomes menacing. When people just shove fistfuls of zucchini in the open window of your car and then run away. If I see one more freshly plucked tomato I might scream.

Last night, I woke up in a cold sweat after dreaming I was being chased by small armies of kohlrabi and swiss chard.

This year, I purposefully did not plant a vegetable garden because I signed up for a CSA and understood that if I committed to that many vegetables, I’d be making and freezing salsa for days, like some sort of foul-mouthed Ma Ingalls. And that’s not the life I want to live. I made a wise choice. It’s not my problem you decided to grow 50lbs of squash.

Listen, I’m vegetabled out. I’ve accidentally eaten vegan three days in a row. I had to pound a bag of Cheetos the other night just to restore order and trash to my system. Every night this week, I’ve been up late desperately quick pickling peppers and and onions. And you, you want to give me tomatoes? Go to hell.

Go all the way to hell.

Your tomatoes are not my problem, Diane.

Giving me tomatoes at this point is not nice. It’s not kind. It is an act of war. This is the war of vegetal aggression. Toss them in your compost heap yourself, you absolute monster.

What am I going to do with 100 tomatoes? No, I don’t want to stand in a kitchen all day making and jarring sauce. No I don’t want to make salsa. It’s summer. I want to sit on my ass and read a book. I want to sit on a patio and drink a margarita.

The Lord God did not see fit to place me into the year 2023 and just so I could homestead. If I wanted to be a trad wife, I would have stayed married. Go sauce your own tomatoes!

And Now For Something Good:

• Each week we are given more indictments as a sign of the Lord’s favor.

• I’ve been playing this game Connections for a couple weeks now and I have to say, I love it.

• Even the children’s playgrounds say ACAB.

• Go woke, go broke? I don’t think so.

• If you are drowning in vegetables, this Ceasarish salad dressing from Hetty McKinnon’s book is incredible.

• Also, I grated up a bunch of vegetables and made this coleslaw and it’s my everything.

What I Am Drinking:

I had every intention to make Slush of Georgia this week. Slush of Georgia is from

Elizabeth G. Howard

who offered it up to readers of this newsletter in the comments a few weeks ago. The recipe comes from her mother, Georgia.

SLUSH! (exclamation points original)

7 cups water

2 6-oz cans frozen OJ (or just one 12-oz can)

4 6-oz cans frozen lemonade

2 cups of brewed tea (like, iced tea, but it doesn't have to be cold)

1 cup granulated sugar

1 1/2 cups whiskey (I use Jim Beam -- don't use Scotch for heavens sake)

Mix everything together in a roasting pan or BIG container until sugar is dissolved and put in freezer!!

Elizabeth Howard also recommends putting it in a lot of small containers so they freeze more quickly.

As I said, I had every intention of making this. But once again, I had a mostly dry week. I’m having more and more of those lately. Like so many people, I became a pandemic bartender. But as we get further away from 2020, I’m re-examining the role of drinking in my everyday life. I’m also 40 and if I have a glass of wine after 9pm, I wake up feeling awful.

So, I offer the recipe up to you all! Go boldly forth and make your slush!

This week, I mixed Trader Joe’s Jalapeño Limeade with lime sparkling water and it’s been an absolute banger of a drink.

I also had a coffee with blood orange syrup in it from a local coffee shop and I was delighted by how much I loved that freaky little drink.

Have a lovely weekend. Please don’t harass people with your vegetables.

1. This is a conspiracy I’ve heard four times now.