Joyanna Adams

Nobody's Opinion

Nobody’s Gitmo Time: Stage Four

Nobody Flashes

Hi again.

By now, you are saying (You know who you are— I can COUNT you on one hand and a pinkie): Well, where ARE you Joyanna? You said, just last week: “God willing” that you would be back on Monday. You weren’t. What happened? Wasn’t God Willing?

Did your absence have something to do with the last of the White Rhino’s dying off the planet?” somebody out there might ask.

No. And politically speaking, after hearing about the last omnibus bill, that might not be a bad idea—

No, it had to do with my Nobody’s Gitmo Time.

Let me explain in one sentence: “If you can’t get to Stage four, then it’s Nobody’s Gitmo Time.”

I’ll explain Stage four in a minute. First, we must get through stage one, two, and three.

Basically, I’ve been tortured.

It’s not a pretty thing when you find yourself lying on the floor, and saying to yourself, “Damn. I did it again.” Fall that is. I’ve been falling lately, not because I’m clumsy, no, it’s because I’m usually in stage four sleep and I’m trying to walk.

Do NOT compare me to Hillary. She’s usually awake when she falls. No, this is ‘stage four’ lack of sleep torture.

Not sleeping Joyanna? Big deal. Go take a nap.

I can’t nap. Too much caffeine. You see, I can’t sleep, I can’t nap. The REAL Gitmo would be a vacation to me right now.

Why are you not in bed you might ask? Because, for the last four months of my life, I have been tortured by experts that even the toughest of Gitmo CIA operatives would be jealous of.

And that main CIA operative in my house’s name is: Koko.

My little 17-pound dog was named after the famous gorilla who could use sign language, because at the time she was literally dropped on our doorstep, I had much more important things to do beside name a dog. KOKO the gorilla was on the TV at the time I was changing my mother’s diaper–therefore I shouted, “Let’s name her Koko!” And went back to diaper duty.

But Koko is MUCH smarter than her namesake. She doesn’t even need opposing thumbs. She has a bark that tells me everything she needs. A bark SO LOUD that car alarms go off, TV’s turn on, and ground hogs turn over in their holes when she opens up her little mouth.

She can’t hear her own bark because, you see, she’s 17, and deaf.

She’s also blind.

The vet says: Hey, if a dog can still smell, she’ll be fine!

Fine for the dog. Torture for the owner. As you can guess…my VET is a democrat.

Let me go on to say that Koko has a great heart, but her back hips are giving out. And every night, she wakes up, around 2 or 3 am, and barks SO loud that I literally rise from the bed like Linda Blair in the exorcist.

So far, my husband has not noticed this elevation.

Big deal? Yes, because you see, she sleeps at the end of the bed and I must get up out of my sleep and lift her up, take her to the back-patio door, and gently take her down the two steps outside. Otherwise, there is a big mess on her bed, or on OUR bed, and that means an entire day of laundry.

I’m so tired, I usually don’t bother to put shoes on. Snow? Who cares? Cold? Hey, I’m dead to the world.

So, being that at 3am in the morning I am in stage four sleep, sometimes, I trip going to the door in the dark, and I’m thinking: “I’ve fallen! Do I HAVE to get up?”

Now, let’s review: Stage one is the first 20 minutes of sleep. Then…Stage two. That lasts around an hour, where people usually dream. Stage 3 doesn’t last long and frankly, nobody really remembers it, but Stage FOUR! Oh, that’s the time, around the third to fourth hour, when the brain reboots, the immune system repairs all the damages done doing the day, and gets you ready for the NEXT four hours. And then it all starts over. Every night. Unless you are a turtle, that’s what happens.

Most people go through two stage fours a night. Not me. I never make it to even ONE.

If ONLY I was a dolphin.

If you are awakened in the lovely sleep stage of one or two, then you wake from either a dream of, in my case, pythons or tornadoes, or a lovely dream. I dream of designer homes of the rich and famous where I am the rich and not so famous. I can design the BEST bathtubs in my dreams.

You should see them.

But to be awakened night after night after night after night, after night, after night, after night after….(for three months straight, or has it been six?) when I’ve just gotten into stage four?

Total torture. Putin would tell you. (The Russians have perfected sleep deprivations torture.) Your body, doesn’t want to move. Your arms feel like they are being held down by Michael Moore who is actually grinning: Your legs feel like the great wall of China. They simply refuse to budge.

Hillary Clinton herself could be standing by my bed with an axe and I’d turn over and try to go back to sleep.

And once I get up? I don’t DARE cook breakfast. I can’t get near a stove until at least 4pm.

But…. let’s get back to 3am. I’m just beginning to fall into Stage four sleep, and I hear– BARK! BARK!
I somehow manage to lift her down, stay awake 20 minutes while KoKo does her stuff, sniffs the house, drinks some water, gets stuck behind a corner, where I have to find her and rescue her, and then, I hear the bark: I WANT BACK UP.”

So, I pick her up and put her back in her bed.

It takes her a good five minutes after turning around to find a good spot. I finally get to fall back asleep…BUT…in just two hours…I’ve passed through sleep stage one, two…three…and THEN….

The clock turns to 4am. My husband wakes up. He turns the TV on. The other dog is barking and up. I don’t have to move, but I cannot go into stage four for another 45 minutes until he leaves at five, and I’m FINLLY in stage four, and….

BARK! It’s 6 am! Wake up! BARK BARK BARK!! BARK BARK BARK!!.

Both dogs. Get up! Get up! Feed me! Let’s play! 

This has gone on for four months straight. Add to that the fact that every other night my husband snores loud enough to launch the new Russian missile over Joe Biden’s house, and even the radio in my ear doesn’t drown THAT out, I cannot even get to stage two on those nights.

Try sleeping on a transistor under your back and your ear tangled up in wire. Try making it through the day when you are actually worse than a Zombie in last night’s Living Dead Episode. Try remembering why you are AT the grocery store.

And then, after going through the day half asleep, try writing a coherent blog right before bedtime.

So, you get it.

I have had no REAL sleep in over four months.

And here’s the kicker.

You cannot make up sleep. Nope. Whoever told you that is lying to you. The only thing you can do is take bucket loads of caffeine and make a lot of spelling mistakes. Which I do all the time, AS YOU ALL KNOW, but then again, so does President Trump.

I don’t think it’s just Congress and the democrats that are torturing our President.

I don’t think he gets enough Stage four sleep either.

Now, you might think I’m lying. But I swear, the LAST memory of myself ever having slept a full 8 hours (which is what I really need) and waking up feeling just marvelous, was in the year 2000. Yes, I remember it well. Seventeen years ago, almost to the day.

I was in Naples, Florida at a friend’s house, visiting. And I was….ALONE.

But, I don’t want to be alone. I have a wacko blind and deaf dog whom I cherish, a husband whose snore I’m sure I would miss despite the torture, and a brain that might not ever recover.

Anyway, any sane person, who’d had been sleeping properly, would not post this.

But, at the moment, I am not sane, I’m just…. tortured, and I don’t want to lose what little following of my blog that I have.

So, I just wanted to let you know: I’m thinking of joining the CIA where I too, can learn how to torture.

I have not disappeared.

I’m just…….in Nobody Needs Deep Sleep Gitmo.

Where I am losing sleep— but gaining my sense of humor back.

I guess you really have to suffer in life to enjoy it. That’s all I have to say about it.

Only to add…Nobody’s Perfect. Someday, sleep will come. When I’m dead.

Until that time…I’ll write when I can.

March 22, 2018 Posted by | humor, Life, Uncategorized | , | 1 Comment

Nobody Takes a Break

Nobody Flashes:

Once a year usually, I just have to give myself a break, to take care of myself, life, my family.

My own soul.

This is one of those times.

God willing, I will be back next Monday.

Everybody have a great week. And for the few of you who do read me,

Thank you…Thank you.


March 11, 2018 Posted by | Life | | 2 Comments

How Precious is Life…

Nobody Flashes

The many celebrations and reminders of how precious life is ….


March 3, 2018 Posted by | Life, Uncategorized | | 1 Comment

Christmas Dancing in the Snow With Irishmen

Nobody Flashes

This song simply HAS to be played today…for me.

I was talking to one of the men putting in my patio door today, an Irish looking guy. Our old one cracked into tiny pieces. We had been putting tons of pillows and curtains and boards up to keep the cold out, so we were pretty excited to get a new one.

It’s a three paneled door, and we had been waiting for 2 months for it to be manufactured and then installed. It was only 57 degrees here today, warm for December, so the door installers said they would be coming by 10.30.

To say I was excited is an understatement.

10.30 passed.

11.30 passed.

12.30 passed.

1:30 passed.

2:30 passed.

Where were they? I thought.

And then the head guy called and said they’d be there by

3:30 passed, and they arrived at 4:30. It gets dark at 5:pm here, so I was surprised when they apologized, said they had trouble at the first job, and jumped in to repair our patio door, which by the way, is three huge glass panels and takes up a whole wall.

5:30 PM, they got the old frame out…and all of us: the three contractors, my husband, and I…went quiet.

There, underneath the frame, were THOUSANDS of termites.

Quickly we got an old can of termite spray from the house, and Justin, the man in charge sprayed the whole can on top. I ran up to the local hardware store and bought more cans.

What to do now?

Justin said, “Well, we’ve got to put the door up, otherwise you have a whole wall with nothing there. You need to get an extermination, and we need to come back TAKE the door down, replace the rotten wood, and put it in right.

Now, it’s dark out, and getting cold. And I said, “Well, 2017 has NOT been kind to us.”

First, our garage door opening stopped working.

Then, our 64 inch big screen TV, the only one we watch, died.

Then our basement flooded. It was completely finished off. Bedroom, pool room, bathroom…bar…everything had to be repaired. We had to tear out the rugs, rebuild the walls, and put up new drywall.

Then, our oven died. It was a wall oven, and my husband and I had to try to “lift’ the new one in all by ourselves. Labor would have been $500, never mind the expense of a new wall oven.

The electrician for downstairs still hasn’t given us our bill. We had to rewired most everything.

And then…the sewer line backed up. Good thing all the rugs were already torn out. But, because whoever built the house did not leave room for a ‘line’, they had to remove the toilet downstairs to clean out the sewer backup.

Anyway….there was more stuff, MUCH more, it’s just that my mind is trying to BLOCK the rest out.

So, back to the story. I was telling them what a bad year we had. And then, like Christmas magic, we all bonded in silence. The working class. The WHITE working class men mostly, making the world go round, and yet, each day a struggle.

And one young guy shook his head. “Yeah, it was a bad year for me too.”

“Well, make us feel better.” I said. “Tell us your bad deal.”

“My fiancé broke up with me. I found her with another guy.” He has spent $6,000 for a ring. She gave it back but he only got $350 for it when he sold it.

“Her big loss” I said. And I meant it. Then we all told him he was lucky it happened BEFORE the marriage and no kids were involved. Surely, I told him, he would find another.

Just ordinary Americans. These guys were the good stuff. The good stuff that this country was built on. And every time I hear Hillary trash white people, I…well…where’s that termite spray.

Trump, is…so right.

Tonight, I opened a Christmas card from my neighbor who lives three doors down. I was supposed to get together with her, and do something last March, I called her, left a message, but she never called me back.

Being my typical self, I told my husband, “Well, I guess she’s just doesn’t like me.” and tried to just shrug it off. (That never really works, does it?)

But then, the reason why she never called became clear: Our phone number has been changed (she’s right) and she has stage four ovarian cancer most of the year, and is going through chemo.

What’s a few termites compared to cancer?

We sat on the long bus rides to high school together. She is the only girl who ever laughed at my jokes.

Cancer. Horrible.

So, THAT’s why I’m posting these very happy drunk Irishmen.

Join me, and toast! To the Irish Rovers!

To my favorite Irish man! (He knows who he is.)

To all the termites in my house! (Your days are NUMBERED SUCKERS.)

And to President Trump! May he defeat the swamp with swiftness and bold American bravado.

God bless the Good King of Christmas!

And God bless all you who read me, and wonder when I’m going to drive myself crazy.

I’m already there…dancing in the snow with Irishmen.

Thank you for your help, and your kind emails.

I don’t think I could have made it through 2017, without you.

Okay…another glass? These guys are too much fun!

God bless freedom loving people on the planet wherever they are! The tyrants will be defeated.

They always are…so…

Tonight, I dance with the drunken Irishmen.

Care to join me?


December 16, 2017 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment

Nobody Loves You Like A Dog

Nobody Flashes

Dog lovers will love this.

It’s got to feel good to come home to this much love.


December 15, 2017 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment

Salvador Mundi VS Ketchup

Nobody Flashes

While the universe was obsessed with sex scandals, other fun news was happening.

It almost seems impossible, that a Leonardo Da Vinci would show up out of nowhere, and depict the most famous person in all of history: Jesus Christ, but it did.

This painting was thought to be a hoax and once sold for $60 dollars, and then, it was discovered that it was the real deal and a Russian bought it, and paid about $174 million for it, so he made a nice profit. Somebody bought it for $450 million.

Since Mona Liza is the most famous painting in the world, Jesus certainly gets the bigger bang for the buck.

Gasps rippled through the Christie’s auction house. And then cheers. “Salvator Mundi,” a 600-year-old painting by Leonardo da Vinci, had just sold for $450 million.

Most of us have seen a lot of picture of Jesus, but even looking at it on the internet, I have to say, it’s probably my favorite. Still, why would the Russian sell it?

Fake or not, it’s beautiful.

And then you do have the real fake…a painting that has what I like to call it the “Hillary Clinton” effect. It’s a painting done with Ketchup. A painting that even a 4-year old could pull off, and some fool paid $50 million for it.

So, what FOOL paid $50 million for a canvas of Ketchup that he could have done at home for under $50?

I guarantee you, it was a liberal fool, because THIS is how the liberals described it:

Red is the colour of wine, but also of blood, and these canvases encompass both the sensual pleasure and violent debauchery associated with the god. This contrast is echoed in the paintings’ combination of euphoric loops that soar upwards and vermilion floods of paint that ooze and cascade down the canvas. The unfurling gestures of these paintings were made, like Henri Matisse’s works in old age, with a brush affixed to the end of a pole, which lends them their vitality and scale.”

Well, I have ketchup ooze and cascade down my hamburger too. What a bunch of BS hooey. Sounds just like a liberal: conning you to buy their paintings just like they con you to buy their politics. With big fancy words of description meaning absolutely nothing.

And these people rule the world.

I want to know who bought both paintings, don’t you?

I HOPE the Vatican bought the Da Vinci. It should be among the most valuable treasures. It should stay in Italy.

And the Ketchup? Well, one thing for sure…it wasn’t President Trump.

Now, if it had been GOLD cascading….

November 17, 2017 Posted by | Life | , | Leave a comment

Machio Kaku: The Mind of God

Nobody Flashes

GOD according to Michio KaKu!


September 23, 2017 Posted by | Life | , | 1 Comment

Nobody Prays

Nobody Prays

President Trump declared this a National Day of Prayer.

So, this nobody prays for all the lonely hearts and the suffering going on today in Texas. (And the rest of the country for that matter.)  Let’s hope that the strength of God and the people of Texas pull through this.

If you don’t believe in God, then I feel sorry for you.

It’s much like…never having a child.

Unless you experience his (Or it’s spiritual) presence, you really never know what you’re missing.

So, I’m saying a prayer…that God helps us SAVE America.

And can I also pray that John McCain, Paul Ryan, and Mitch McConnell…get voted out?

Come on. Okay, how about term limits?

I’m taking Monday off, because my husband and I will be nailing 2x4s’s to concrete walls. We will have the usual. “WAIT..did you measure that before you installed it, and what do you mean I don’t listen to you?” husband and wife conversations that always make the day…less boring.

Everybody have a great Labor Day Weekend! I’ll be laboring, as most Americans will, and will see you back here on Tuesday.


September 2, 2017 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment

Dad’s: What Would We Do Without Them?


June 17, 2017 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment


Nobody Flashes


May 13, 2017 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment

Milo Yiannopoulos Shows the True Meaning of “tolerance.”

Nobody Flashes a man of great tolerance on a Sunday.

We’ve heard again and again about the need for tolerance in society, by Obama, and Hillary. In fact, they barely ever shut up about it.

The truth is: Americans have been more tolerant than any civil society in history.

Okay. We all know they use the damning to control speech, and behavior, in order to make a docile society, but Milo, knows all of this.

And he points it out here by visiting these people who were damaged greatly by the Obama “gay” warriors.

How can you NOT be a fan?


December 10, 2016 Posted by | Life | | Leave a comment

Nobody Flashes Stress Relievers: Stars and Elephants

Nobody Flashes

Does anybody else want to get away from the nasty and depressive news? I do. I was so keyed up tonight, I ALMOST brought a Gargoyle online. I decided against that, and opted instead to get out of the house, and just walk.

When I’m stressed, two thing usually put my mind back into perspective: The vastness of the universe (Which proves how insignificant most everything is on this planet.) and the sweet, sweet  innocence of babies.

Any babies. And THIS baby is one of my favorites. He brings his joy right back into my needy spirit, bless his heart.


October 15, 2016 Posted by | Life, Uncategorized | | Leave a comment

Walk In THEIR Shoes….

Nobody Flashes

I’m old enough to remember the days when Nike first starting charging $120 for kids’ tennis shoes. I was a single parent at the time, and the marketing was so good, that if your kid didn’t have a pair of Nike’s, he (or she) was doomed to forever be a nobody, and so, I always somehow managed to find the money.

In fact, marketing executives are so good now, our politicians probably have Nike working for them.

I myself wear very cheap tennis shoes from Wal-Mart. BUT….I might buy myself a pair of these.

Unless of course they charge over $500. What do you think? Would you buy a pair?

Or is it just all the usual hype?



October 9, 2016 Posted by | Life | | 3 Comments

Somewhere Tonight…

Nobody Flashes

Somewhere tonight in America…

Somewhere tonight in New York, bombs are going off, set by evil people who mean to kill.

Somewhere tonight (it’s 10.43 pm on Saturday night) a newborn baby is off to sleep, the mother exhausted.

Somewhere tonight, a woman goes home alone: lonely. A little drunk.

Somewhere tonight, a black man shoots another black man on the streets of Chicago.

Somewhere tonight, lovers kiss, make love, than watch TV, munching on Potato chips.

But somewhere tomorrow, IF it’s nowhere near Miami Beach, a ladybug will fly, with no one to witness it.

And at least more than half of the people in America will go through their whole lives thinking…that ladybugs don’t fly.

God keeps his most precious gems alive, and hidden…thankfully, away from us all.

What little we know.


September 17, 2016 Posted by | Life | Leave a comment

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