FIND A BETTER COUNTRY

Back in the glorious MySpace days of 2008 I remember a cousin's husband at the time (she's on marriage #3...common in Texas) had this pithy quote on his page: 

"This is AMERICA. If you don't like it you can LEAVE."

I took umbrage. He lived in a brand-new brick house (thanks to his wealthy grandfather) and I was living on WIC and food stamps in a tiny trashy rent house I called The Crack Whore Shack in Nederland, Texas with my infant son and his father, my second husband. I remember thinking, "I would LEAVE if I COULD. Asshole."

I don't like The United States of America, the country of my birth. I don't like Texas, the state of my birth. I finally left at the age of 53. I live on this island in the Caribbean. I've been here with my fiance (David) since May. We still haven't been to Secret Beach but we aren't really beach people. We don't drink. We don't get stoned. We're boring as hell with our weights and resistance bands and yoga mat. We write books and fuck each other and take pictures of palm trees and iguanas and the moon.

There's no Walmart or McDonald's or Taco Bell or Ross Dress For Less on this island. How do I cope? Oh, the usual...eating JIF Extra Crunchy from the jar, watching "Cheaters" in bed with my man, reading the PDF of his novel until I sob.

I am not Taylor Swift. Jesus wept. Selah.

p.S. in a recent dream I purchased a FIFTH AVENUE candy bar, something I haven't done in many moons

 

swooncaKe aesthetic

Not everyone is special. Not everyone is worthy of attention, publicity, wealth, health, divine revelations, favor. I did not make the rules, I only abide by them. If something isn't special I do not share it. That was not always the case. Lately I've been dedicated to the culling process. I've been deleting old photographs, blog posts, videos and playlists. God (according to David GOD does not exist but I remain a believer) has instructed me and I have obeyed. We don't all get a seat at the table. We can't all be Kim Kardashian. We can't all be Taylor Swift. We can't all be Sharon Osbourne. We can't all be Anais Nin. We can't all be Erica Jong. I could puke from now until the day I die looking around at those who are favored, celebrated, lauded, rewarded. Last night I watched a favorite film of mine, "Coal Miner's Daughter." David was amused and disgusted. He doesn't get it. Not everyone thinks Loretta Lynn was a great or even good singer. Not everyone is mesmerized by Sissy Spacek's portrayal of Loretta Lynn. Not everyone worships at the altar of Elvis. Not everyone thinks RETARD PENIS should be purchased, read, reviewed. 

It's lonely (quite) at my table. I am seated at the kiddie table. I'm too ridiculous and rude to be welcome at The Grown-Up Table where the gossip ranges from Billy Bob's latest Home Depot haul to Kelly Sue's latest pregnancy. I don't feel like I'm missing out on much at all. Loneliness is often delicious. No one I think is in my tree and that is perfectly acceptable. I was deluded for several years, jumping through hoops of fire for various motherfuckers. No mas, hoss.

I celebrate trash. I celebrate the absurd. I celebrate the ridiculous. End transmission.

 

DATA CENTER SMOKE BREAK

The bugs are biting the sun is setting the dogs are barking the music is playing in Belize. Earlier there were tacos and I was ranting because I thought I had lost a track I was madly in love with. I just heard a gunshot. I'm safe here in bed with my Aries rapist. Inside joke. I no longer eat cereal but if I did my cereal of choice sure as fucking hell would not be FANS CORNFLAKES. Capital letters are still somehow important. Have you driven a FORD lately? Confident. Confident. Dry and secure. Raise your hand. Raise your hand if you're SURE. I have this memory of lying awake in my canopy bed in Goree, Texas in 1975 or 1976. The television in the den had been turned off for hours but I kept hearing the A&W Root Beer commercial over and over again. I thought I was losing my mind. I probably was. All these years later I remain obsessed with audio. Here is my latest track available for $1.50. Bye.

 

YOU HAVE BEEN REPORTED

 

 

"She's a hateful vengeful tarot card shuffling incense burning Satan loving witch," Cousin One said on her way to the nail salon. Paris beckons! So many photo ops for Instagram! Family reunion at Cracker Barrel tonight! Y'all be there! LOL!

 

Another gender reveal cupcake party. Get excited. Another baby shower. Get excited. Another wedding. Get excited. Black Friday at Target. Frozen margaritas with the girls in Las Vegas. Taylor Swift concert. Paul McCartney is still singing "Love Me Do"! Here's proof!

 

Splurge on a Versace handbag, bitch. Four thousand dollars never felt so GOOD. Jesus wants us to have the very best! Designer cowboy boots. Designer sofa. McMansion on the safe side of Dallas. See how good we look at Facebook? Jesus doesn't want you to be jealous. Jesus wants you to praise your neighbor for having a better house a better car a better family a better life. We pray the wildfires and tornadoes and floods away! We are FAVORED!

 

Google the outcast. Google the bitch who colors outside the lines. Google the bitch who chooses SELF over prescribed deity. Google the bitch who never found the prize easter egg in moo cow pasture.

 

53 years in the proudest reddest state. 53 years of judgment, gossip, JESUS SAVES JESUS SAVES, junk food, fast food, BULLSHIT RODEO, garage sales, asthma attacks, men drinking cheap beer swinging leather belts because Daddy Knows Best, women scribbling mindless sermons in Hallmark cards because Jesus Forgives Us All, another Baptist preacher droning on about abortion/guns/obeying the parents, respecting the elected leader who has raped women and children, filling houses with ceramic angels and various guns because that is what will save us from terrorists, rapists, pedophiles, immigrants, AI, witches, Satanists, poets, terrible weather.

 

As For Me & My House We Will Serve The Lord

 

LIVE LAUGH LOVE LIE

 

Bless Her Heart

 

We Speak ENGLISH HERE

 

written by Misti Velvet Rainwater on Friday 31 July 2026 

 

ORANGE FACE FOREVER

 

 

 

FLORIDA SUPERNATURAL 

 

250

celebrate with spam sandwiches & budweiser