After eighteen months of dental drama, the implant crowns finally arrived. Three hours, three professionals, tiny ratchets, one increasingly cyborg-like patient—and zero successfully installed teeth. Welcome back to the Tooth Saga, where even the custom-made ending doesn’t fit.

After eight peaceful months on tamoxifen, my uterus has launched its Halloween comeback tour. Three pairs of trousers died within six hours, every movement threatens another *Shining*-style elevator scene, and somewhere inside me, fibroids—known in Dutch as “meat trees”—are building the Upside Down. Welcome to the MeMo: post-breast-cancer bleeding, menopause chaos and enough natural special effects to make fake Halloween blood completely unnecessary.

A lively scene unfolds at the "Billionaire Cabaret" as performers in vibrant costumes captivate the audience under the dazzling lights of the "GRIFT SHOW." Laughter and applause resonate amidst opulent displays of wealth, creating an atmosphere of extravagant indulgence. Ladies, gentlemen, billionaires… Welcome to democracy! Your vote is extremely important—Until the checks clear! The President is golfing While your grocery bill gets crushed. His donors bought the government—

After 18 months of braces, bone grafts, implants, crowns, drilling, poking and enough dental appointments to qualify as a part-time job, I’m done. So when a new orthodontist assistant ignored my treatment plan and announced across the room that “this lady does not want to cooperate anymore,” my last nerve packed its bags. Apparently asking someone to read my dossier is now rebellion. Give me my teeth, remove the scaffolding and release me back into society. 🍋

A dying whale, endless bureaucracy, and the helpless rage of watching humans fail again. Sometimes doing nothing is the worst choice of all.

A raw, darkly funny take on EMDR, losing a dog, and why some pain shouldn’t disappear. Grief, burnout, and healing without erasing love.

Trump says he had “nothing to do” with Epstein. New Mexico opens a probe. Public hearings demanded. Totally normal. Nothing to see.

Trump demands half of Canada’s bridge and threatens hockey extinction. A dark comic take on geopolitical absurdity and authoritarian theatre

Hazel’s false pregnancy turns our home into a nesting zone while Eazy treats it like an Easter egg hunt. Hormones, and pink leopard panties.

What happens when you try to reintegrate into a high-stress corporate role while your body is still recovering? Add AI screening tools, recruiters suspicious of long tenure, and a job market that worships hustle culture. This satirical Office-style episode explores illness recovery, corporate pressure, and the absurdity of proving you’re “back” while still healing.

When power hides behind redactions, transparency becomes the real scandal. Full disclosure isn’t partisan. It’s basic hygiene.

Cancer doesn’t rewrite history. When an estranged parent returns, boundaries matter more than blood.

Procrastination isn’t laziness. It’s exhaustion, burnout, and a brain that needs buffering. A funny, honest look at creative paralysis.

Dog in heat chaos: diapers, drama, accomplices, odors, and a washing machine on strike. We’re only halfway through. Pray for us.

Job hunting over 50 feels like standing outside an exclusive club while an AI bouncer scans your résumé and silently shakes its head. Too old. Too experienced. Too expensive. After re-entering your CV for the hundredth time and collecting Workday accounts like Pokémon, the silence becomes personal. Is it AI? Is it ageism? Is there a blacklist? A cynical look at modern hiring, ghosting, and waiting to be let back in.

I started this blog to write about dogs, cancer, work, and life’s small disasters. Instead, I’ve become an unpaid, non-American crisis correspondent tracking Donald Trump’s daily chaos. This post is about Trump burnout, political exhaustion, and why staying vocal still matters even when you’re tired, overwhelmed, and desperately in need of a break from the constant “what the hell just happened now” news cycle.

The Super Bowl halftime show delivered flashing lights, cultural whiplash, and a unifying message that definitely ruined someone’s evening in Florida. Watching Bad Bunny perform felt like an Adam Sandler sketch that accidentally became iconic. Chaotic, joyful, confusing, and oddly powerful, this halftime show proved once again that the Super Bowl isn’t just about football. It’s about vibes, identity, and collective national overreaction.

rump’s Greenland “deal” follows a familiar pattern: create a fake crisis, threaten escalation, declare victory, and end up with exactly what already existed. In this Daily Show–style monologue, the Greenland saga is compared to a taxi ride Trump never needed to hijack, exposing dealmaking as theater, diplomacy as collateral damage, and “I won” as a substitute for actual results.

When a federal official dresses like authoritarian fan fiction and throws chemical agents at protesters, the outfit isn’t the problem.

Satire on Trump’s “Board of Peace,” featuring global power players, villain vibes, and the eternal question: what would Batman do?