Thursday, May 13, 2010
Where's My Job?
Today, Yahoo posted an article about President Obama's visit to Buffalo NY which can be found here at http://news.yahoo.com/s/ynews/ynews_ts2049#mwpphu-container (until they take the article down so I have posted the article here for reference purposes...)
"I need a freakin' job." That's the message President Obama saw as he arrived in Buffalo, N.Y., this afternoon for an event talking up the administration's success in creating new jobs. He also pitched Congress on approving a $30 billion credit for small-business growth.
Yet critics say Obama has been focusing his recovery efforts too narrowly and hasn't done enough to help people find work. After all, the latest job figures show 9.9 percent of the country still out of work. That inspired a group of unemployed Buffalo residents — who also have a website called INAFJ.org — to appeal to the president in the form of a billboard along the route his motorcade took into town. A photo of the billboard is at the top of this page.
Yet jobs aren't a huge priority for either party heading into the midterm campaigns, as Politics Daily's Jill Lawrence notes. That might be because other issues have taken precedence. A new Gallup poll finds that for the first time in two months, the issue of "jobs" has fallen to No. 2 on the list of issues Americans are most concerned about. The new No. 1 issue: The economy in general. White House officials defend their efforts on jobs, saying the president has been focused as much on creating new jobs as on "saving" current positions.
But here's a sign the job seekers' message to the administration may be getting through: The White House just announced Obama will travel next Tuesday to Youngstown, Ohio — where unemployment hit 15.1 percent last month, the city's highest jobless rate in more than 15 years. The focus of Obama's visit: "jobs and the economy," according to the White House.
And a more direct sign still: Obama press aide Bill Burton was asked about the billboard in today's press gaggle. His reply was, "The President is here to talk about jobs, what his administration has done to create jobs, what we need to do in order to create an environment where small businesses can create jobs. So the answer is, we're on the path to creating more jobs, and we've got a lot more work to do."
If you are a user of Yahoo you are probably aware of all the nutjobs there that post some hideously ignorant and offensive responses to these articles and this one was no different with a lot of posts about how Obama is responsible for the unemployment situation in this country to which I posted the following response which Yahoo declined to post...
Let's see here... when your beloved Bush became President we had the largest surplus in the history of the United States and the rate of unemploment/underemployment was holding steady at 3,9 percent (or approximately 10.5 million people) - by the end of his FIRST term the rate had climbed to 5.2 percent, representing approximately 7.7 MILLION Americans. The manufacturing sector alone lost nearly 3 million jobs in Bush's first term in office. In fact, 20 states lost more than 20 percent of their manufacturing jobs during the fist four year of Bush's reign over this country (those states being Washington, Colorado, Illinois, Oklahoma, Mississippi, Alaska, Alabama, Ohio, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Washington DC, Pennsylvania, Delaware, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, New Hampshire, Massachusetts,Maine and Rhode Island ( I think I got them all). In fact, only TWO states actually added jobs during that time period - North Dakota and Nevada. Of the remaining states, 8 had a loss of 10- 15 percent of manufacturing jobs (Oregon, Idaho, Nebraska, South Dakota, Indiana, Kansas, Iowa and Kentucky), The remaining states all lost between 15 - 20 percent of manufacturing jobs - all under the watch of President Bush. Interestingly, the 7.7 million OFFICIALLY unemployed represent only 53 percent of US workers - approximately 13.6 million according to The Department of Labor Statistics - who are either unemployed, underemployed or have just plain given up on finding a job. A vast majority of those jobs weren't actually lost though - they were simply sent overseas to countries with less stringent (and sometimes non-existent) protection for workers or the environment. President Bush presided over the worst job growth in over 70 years just in his first term. Bush tore this country down in under 4 years with his poor management "skills" and yet Repukeagains want to lay the blame at Obama's feet. Obama has the unfortunate task of reassembling America and undoing all the messes that Bush left behind. Let me remind you that Bush's approval rate when he left office were the lowest (somewhere in the 30% range) - the lowest approval rating for any second term President since Harry Truman in 1951 and left office as the second most unpopular President in US history with only Richard Nixon ahead of him. So if you want your jobs back maybe you should consider knocking on Bush's door and ask him where your freaking job went (along with the huge surplus that would have kept our country solvent had Bush not felt the need to squander it all on an illegal war against a country that actually had nothing to do with 9/11 and to give handouts to his cronies companies (Enron? Halliburton?). But yea... sure... it's Obama's fault you ignorant bunch of pinheads.
Now, in as an aside to the article and my response I got to thinking about how a group of "unemployed" people were able to come up with the money for a billboard AND a semi-professional video. Obviously they didn't - they had help and I think we all know who is really behind this....
Thursday, April 16, 2009
"Tea Parties"
By now most of the country has heard of this week's "Tea Party" protests - here's my take on this whole pile of BS...
Let me ask you a few questions...
Do you like having paved roadways that are maintained well?
Do you want good schools and day care in your community?
Would you like to see cures for diseases like Cancer, HIV, MS, Cerebal Palsy, Alzheimer's, Hepatitis and a plethera of other diseases?
Do you want to live in a country that takes care of it's poor and infirm?
Do you like the idea of Police, Firemen and Rescue Squad being at your disposal when you need them?
Well, guess what folks? All of these services are partially or fully funded by - you guessed it - your tax dollars!
Let me ask you a few questions...
Do you like having paved roadways that are maintained well?
Do you want good schools and day care in your community?
Would you like to see cures for diseases like Cancer, HIV, MS, Cerebal Palsy, Alzheimer's, Hepatitis and a plethera of other diseases?
Do you want to live in a country that takes care of it's poor and infirm?
Do you like the idea of Police, Firemen and Rescue Squad being at your disposal when you need them?
Well, guess what folks? All of these services are partially or fully funded by - you guessed it - your tax dollars!
Monday, February 09, 2009
Open Hearts
I'm sure you have all seen the commercials with Jane Seymour painting her "Open Heart" symbol that has been made into a line of jewelry to raise awareness and funds for Breast Cancer.
Here's the picture -
Now I don't know about the rest of you but this is what I see...
Now tell me I am wrong...
Friday, October 03, 2008
An unspoken issue in the Presidential Elections
Ok... since no one seems to want to touch this one, let let me be the one the break the ice on this unsavory and unthinkable issue... the idea that there is a high likelihood that the next President Of The United States will die in office! It's unthinkable... but statistically speaking we are overdue for it to happen as evidenced by the list of President's who have died in office and the time span between each death, which is roughly between 10 - 20 years. Don't believe me? Go here and check the list
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_United_States_Presidents_who_died_in_office
Let's face facts - the next Vice President is very likely to be the next President. Unfortunately, we still live in a racially charged country where numerous redneck bubbas would love to go down in history as the man who killed the first black President. Sad but unfortunately true. On the other hand, if McCain wins, he has so many health problems and is so old that the likelihood of him surviving even one term is pretty low. So in essence, this election comes down to whose Vice-Presidential candidate we would want running our country and who is qualified to run our country.
Scary thought eh?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_United_States_Presidents_who_died_in_office
Let's face facts - the next Vice President is very likely to be the next President. Unfortunately, we still live in a racially charged country where numerous redneck bubbas would love to go down in history as the man who killed the first black President. Sad but unfortunately true. On the other hand, if McCain wins, he has so many health problems and is so old that the likelihood of him surviving even one term is pretty low. So in essence, this election comes down to whose Vice-Presidential candidate we would want running our country and who is qualified to run our country.
Scary thought eh?
Monday, September 29, 2008
EAT THE RICH!
Got money problems? You aren't alone and if you voted for G.W. Bush you got no one but yourself to blame. The man who bankrupted every company GIVEN to him by his father has now bankrupt the COUNTRY given to him by his father.
Good job asshole! So very happy to hear that you and your cronies are making more money than you can count while the rest of us are struggling to pay our bills, buy our medications and food and pay for our housing.
But the jokes on you assholes... just like the French Revolution there is a US Revolution coming and it's coming sooner than you think.
You greedy rich motherfuckers are looking MIGHT tasty right about now...
where's my fork and knife?? I got some rich people to eat.
Good job asshole! So very happy to hear that you and your cronies are making more money than you can count while the rest of us are struggling to pay our bills, buy our medications and food and pay for our housing.
But the jokes on you assholes... just like the French Revolution there is a US Revolution coming and it's coming sooner than you think.
You greedy rich motherfuckers are looking MIGHT tasty right about now...
where's my fork and knife?? I got some rich people to eat.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Microsoft Sucks
Ok... how bad a PR move is it when a company as big as Microsoft has to create a commercial campaign that makes it's newest operating system, the horrible Vista monster, look like it's actually a great system? We're talking about their Mojave commercials where "real people" (are there fake people??) are tricked into believing it's THE SYSTEM for them by showing how it works on a computer with EVERYTHING new on it - built to work with their new, piece of shit OS. Face up Microsoft - you blew it again. This is Windows ME again.
I'm switching to Linux!
I'm switching to Linux!
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
I'm stumped...
All I can say is HUH??????
Ok... I get that she is pro life and anti-sex education and teenage pregnancy but for christ sake couldn't the stupid cow tell her little whore daughter to keep her friggin legs closed?? Isn't the 18 year old MAN who impregnated a 17 year old (possibly 16 years old depending on when she was impregnated...) guilty of statutory rape??
Oh jeez... don't get me started. Are you people who support this ticket absolutely stupid or are you just crazy? You are all poster children FOR legalized (in some cases ENFORCED) abortion.
WTF????????
Ok... I get that she is pro life and anti-sex education and teenage pregnancy but for christ sake couldn't the stupid cow tell her little whore daughter to keep her friggin legs closed?? Isn't the 18 year old MAN who impregnated a 17 year old (possibly 16 years old depending on when she was impregnated...) guilty of statutory rape??
Oh jeez... don't get me started. Are you people who support this ticket absolutely stupid or are you just crazy? You are all poster children FOR legalized (in some cases ENFORCED) abortion.
WTF????????
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Independence
After having gone through six months of wretched Hepatitis C treatment I am finding myself a new person - less tolerant of other's stupidity than I have ever been (and I have always had a low tolerance for stupidity) and finding myself more aware of my own and other people's inconsistencies and justifications for the fucked up things they do and don't do to make their and others lives better.
There's a bigger point/issue there but it brings me to a favorite song of mine called "My Way" - NO NOT THE SAPPY FRANK SINATRA LOUNGE LIZARD SONG but a song by the band Los Lonely Boys...
My Way
I don't need no fortune
I don't need no fame
That's all just an illusion
To me it don't mean a thing
You can try and deceive me
But I see right through your skin
And what you're trying to tell me
Is something I don't believe in
Don't tell me how to live my life
Don't tell me how to pray
Don't tell me how to sing my song
Don't tell me what to say
Cuz I believe that miracles
happen every day
I don't care what you say,
I'm gonna do it my way
You say you have all the answers
And I should do it your way
How many times do I have to tell you
I ain't no puppet on a string
Listen to me...
Don't tell me how to live my life
Don't tell me how to pray
Don't tell me how to sing my song
Don't tell me what to say
Cuz I believe that miracles
happen every day
I don't care what you say,
I'm gonna do it my way
I'm gonna do it my way
What'd you say
Ohhhhhhhhh
Ohhhhhhhhh
Ohhhhhhhhh
Don't tell me how to live my life
Don't tell me how to pray
Don't tell me how to sing my song
Don't tell me what to say
Don't tell me how to live my life
Don't tell me how to pray
Don't tell me how to sing my song
Don't tell me what to say
Cuz I believe that miracles
happen every day
I don't care what you say
I'm gonna do it my way
I'm gonna do it my way
Ohhhhhhh I'm gonna do it my way
I'm getting to the point (at 44 years of age I realize it's a little late but better late than never they say) where I am realizing what I want and having the courage to do anything and everything to get it.
There's a bigger point/issue there but it brings me to a favorite song of mine called "My Way" - NO NOT THE SAPPY FRANK SINATRA LOUNGE LIZARD SONG but a song by the band Los Lonely Boys...
My Way
I don't need no fortune
I don't need no fame
That's all just an illusion
To me it don't mean a thing
You can try and deceive me
But I see right through your skin
And what you're trying to tell me
Is something I don't believe in
Don't tell me how to live my life
Don't tell me how to pray
Don't tell me how to sing my song
Don't tell me what to say
Cuz I believe that miracles
happen every day
I don't care what you say,
I'm gonna do it my way
You say you have all the answers
And I should do it your way
How many times do I have to tell you
I ain't no puppet on a string
Listen to me...
Don't tell me how to live my life
Don't tell me how to pray
Don't tell me how to sing my song
Don't tell me what to say
Cuz I believe that miracles
happen every day
I don't care what you say,
I'm gonna do it my way
I'm gonna do it my way
What'd you say
Ohhhhhhhhh
Ohhhhhhhhh
Ohhhhhhhhh
Don't tell me how to live my life
Don't tell me how to pray
Don't tell me how to sing my song
Don't tell me what to say
Don't tell me how to live my life
Don't tell me how to pray
Don't tell me how to sing my song
Don't tell me what to say
Cuz I believe that miracles
happen every day
I don't care what you say
I'm gonna do it my way
I'm gonna do it my way
Ohhhhhhh I'm gonna do it my way
I'm getting to the point (at 44 years of age I realize it's a little late but better late than never they say) where I am realizing what I want and having the courage to do anything and everything to get it.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
my daily dose of laughter
ok... I just got my dose of major entertainment and hilarity courtesy of CNN. I was watching earlier today and of course all the anchors and reporters and special guests (like that douchebag William Bennet - the original drug czar appointed by Reagan... I thought the drug czar was the guy you go to to get your drugs - boy was that a mistake lol) are all debating the results and implications of Super Tuesday and every so often they take a break from the election to go to their various "special correspondents" (i.E. the ones they send out in hurricanes and blizzards and other natural disasters... the "disposable reporters") one of whom I notice she has a big assed cold sore on her upper lip(despite her mask of thickly caked makeup designed to hide the sore) and she does a minute or two showing pictures of the aftermath of the tornadoes yesterday in Tennessee and of course the first picture she shows made me laugh - a picture of a Dr. Pepper machine destroyed by the storms. OH NO...NOT THE DR. PEPPER! Like that was one of the worst results of the storms... a knocked over smashed Dr. Pepper machine - that's the first picture they decide to show. Screw the 57+ who died and the hundreds injured...THERE'S A DR. PEPPER MACHINE DOWN! Now that's funny. But it got even better right after when they cut to commercial from the reporter with the huge cold sore - a commercial for Valtrex! I'm in comedy friggin heaven at this point - a Valtrex commercial right after a report by someone who obviously either needed Valtrex or forgot to take her dose of Valtrex. I'm still trying to figure out if that was planned that way or if someone in the control booth was trying to humiliate the poor girl or it was just coincidental but no matter how it came about it was friggin funny!
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Bringing Sexy Back My Ass
For those of you "not in the know" - there is a plethora of gay "hookup sites" on the Internet where a certain portion (mostly lonely troll like creatures and "men" who act like stupid little boys and are incapable of maintaining a "relationship" any longer than it takes them to "get their rocks off."
My favorite of these sites is one called Manhunt. Manhunt is very well known as THE SITE to be on if you want to meet other "men" for anonymous (and usually highly unsatisfying if not downright creepy) sex AND a great place to make Crystal Meth connections. Now Manhunt has tried for years to claim that they promote "safer sex" and are warriors in the fight against this terrible drug addiction that has afflicted the gay community here in DC. But despite their BS claims, the fact of the matter is Manhunt is one of the prime reasons STD's and Meth addiction is on the rise in the area. Several years ago they even implemented rules for profiles that included "No references to drug use or the term PNP (Party and Play)" - BUT GET THIS - what they did to counteract that decision was to add a checkbox in the profiles where you can check off "NO PNP". So they just made it that much easier to find Meth and the poor schmucks that are addicted to it by simply finding the profiles that DON'T have NO PNP checked off. To my knowledge Manhunt is THE ONLY site with that kind of stupid feature. The owners and moderators of this site should be fined and injected with a vial of a combination of HIV tainted blood mixed with a healthy dose of Crystal Meth. They don't care about the gay community in any way - they care about making money off of us before we die from the diseases we will probably pickup from the people on this site or become such pathetic meth freaks we are no longer able to use a computer (much less speak coherently). Personally, I think the people behind Manhunt are also the people behind the influx of Crystal Meth, but since I don't have any proof that's just my theory.
But my favorite part of the site these days (I love good entertainment and tweaked out drug addled gay men are funny as all hell) is the headlines people use for their profiles. My favorite is "Bringing Sexy Back" - the absurdity of which is mind boggling... the best these poor saps can hope for is to bring STD's and drug addiction back. These pathetic, delusional men couldn't bring sey back if they were Raquel Welch in her prime. It's almost sad to see these people all becoming trolls before their time. Maybe Manhunt should change it's name to Trollhunt. My other favorites about this site is the amount of people who I know personally and or from my former profession working in a doctor's office who claim to be HIV negative when in fact some of them have been positive for 20 years. That and the middle aged guys who only date and/or hookup with kids half their age. Can we say this all together now?... GET OVER YOUR PETER PAN COMPLEX AND ACT LIKE MEN YOU JERKOFFS! Doesn't anyone know how to age gracefully anymore? Apparently in the gay community the answer is a resounding NO.
Then there are the "bug chasers." What, you may ask, in the world is a "bug chaser?" This is about to get ugly and very frightening... you see, "bug chasers" are guys who are lucky enough to be HIV negative but advertise in their ads that they want a poz guy to "give them the gift" That's right - they want to be infected! I've been HIV positive for over 25 years now and let me tell you stupid little moronic shits that HIV IS NOT FUN AND IT SURE AS FUCK ISN'T A CLUB YOU WANT TO JOIN! HIV has all but destroyed much of my life and stolen many of my life's opportunities from me. Taking pills every day gets old REAL FUCKING FAST boys.
You boys definitely AIN'T bringin sexy back...
What's "sexy" to me? Strings... connections... intimacy... knowing the name of the guy I'm doing it with is always hot too. I guess I'm just an old fashioned kind of guy that way.
My favorite of these sites is one called Manhunt. Manhunt is very well known as THE SITE to be on if you want to meet other "men" for anonymous (and usually highly unsatisfying if not downright creepy) sex AND a great place to make Crystal Meth connections. Now Manhunt has tried for years to claim that they promote "safer sex" and are warriors in the fight against this terrible drug addiction that has afflicted the gay community here in DC. But despite their BS claims, the fact of the matter is Manhunt is one of the prime reasons STD's and Meth addiction is on the rise in the area. Several years ago they even implemented rules for profiles that included "No references to drug use or the term PNP (Party and Play)" - BUT GET THIS - what they did to counteract that decision was to add a checkbox in the profiles where you can check off "NO PNP". So they just made it that much easier to find Meth and the poor schmucks that are addicted to it by simply finding the profiles that DON'T have NO PNP checked off. To my knowledge Manhunt is THE ONLY site with that kind of stupid feature. The owners and moderators of this site should be fined and injected with a vial of a combination of HIV tainted blood mixed with a healthy dose of Crystal Meth. They don't care about the gay community in any way - they care about making money off of us before we die from the diseases we will probably pickup from the people on this site or become such pathetic meth freaks we are no longer able to use a computer (much less speak coherently). Personally, I think the people behind Manhunt are also the people behind the influx of Crystal Meth, but since I don't have any proof that's just my theory.
But my favorite part of the site these days (I love good entertainment and tweaked out drug addled gay men are funny as all hell) is the headlines people use for their profiles. My favorite is "Bringing Sexy Back" - the absurdity of which is mind boggling... the best these poor saps can hope for is to bring STD's and drug addiction back. These pathetic, delusional men couldn't bring sey back if they were Raquel Welch in her prime. It's almost sad to see these people all becoming trolls before their time. Maybe Manhunt should change it's name to Trollhunt. My other favorites about this site is the amount of people who I know personally and or from my former profession working in a doctor's office who claim to be HIV negative when in fact some of them have been positive for 20 years. That and the middle aged guys who only date and/or hookup with kids half their age. Can we say this all together now?... GET OVER YOUR PETER PAN COMPLEX AND ACT LIKE MEN YOU JERKOFFS! Doesn't anyone know how to age gracefully anymore? Apparently in the gay community the answer is a resounding NO.
Then there are the "bug chasers." What, you may ask, in the world is a "bug chaser?" This is about to get ugly and very frightening... you see, "bug chasers" are guys who are lucky enough to be HIV negative but advertise in their ads that they want a poz guy to "give them the gift" That's right - they want to be infected! I've been HIV positive for over 25 years now and let me tell you stupid little moronic shits that HIV IS NOT FUN AND IT SURE AS FUCK ISN'T A CLUB YOU WANT TO JOIN! HIV has all but destroyed much of my life and stolen many of my life's opportunities from me. Taking pills every day gets old REAL FUCKING FAST boys.
You boys definitely AIN'T bringin sexy back...
What's "sexy" to me? Strings... connections... intimacy... knowing the name of the guy I'm doing it with is always hot too. I guess I'm just an old fashioned kind of guy that way.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Dysfunctional B*tches
I have an idea. Not just an idea but one of the GREATEST IDEAS EVER for a concert tour AND I don't even care who steals the idea from me. But this is something I know would sell out every stadium in the world...
The Dysfunctional Spoiled Bitches Tour!!!
Just think... Amy Winehouse, Courtney Love, Brit Spears, Christina Aguillerra, Whitney Houston AND Paris Hilton attemping to handle the emcee position.
Tell me you wouldn't pay big bucks for that??
The Dysfunctional Spoiled Bitches Tour!!!
Just think... Amy Winehouse, Courtney Love, Brit Spears, Christina Aguillerra, Whitney Houston AND Paris Hilton attemping to handle the emcee position.
Tell me you wouldn't pay big bucks for that??
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Hep C
I have been spending the last couple of years researching facts about Hepatitis C because I was diagnosed with it three years ago. What astounded me was the lack of knowledge that most people, including my own primary care physician (and most primary care physicians that I know of) have about this disease and it's symptoms and treatment. I joined several online Hep C support boards and educated myself through the experiences and information posted by other Hep C positive people and not only learned more than most of my doctors do about the disease, but also made some great friends along the way. I finally chose to go through the treatment for Hep C back in November of 2007 after much deliberation and at the encouragement of my primary care physician and my boss and co-workers, despite my warnings to them that the treatment is very hard on the patient and the medications have some serious side effects, including mood changes, fatigue and bouts of uncontrollable anger and/or depression. Within the first 2 weeks I had been fired from my job due to an uncontrollable outburst I had directed at our socially and professionally inept office manager. The current standard treatment is weekly shots of Interferon (in most cases Pegulated Interferon) and gobbs and and gobs of Ribavirin. The Ribavirin is the primary cause of the emotional changes as well as causing dry skin (think alligator skin), vision problems and a miriad of other fun side effects. The weekly shot, however, is a whole other ball of wax. It normally results in feeling like you have to flu for 3 or 4 days after - and you have to go through this every week. I am fortunate in that I am on a short treatment plan - 24 weeks and after 6 weeks have already gone undetectable. Many people have to go through the treatment for 52 weeks or more and sometimes have to do the treatment more than once. Let me tell you this now - HEP C SUCKS! And there are a lot of people running around who don't even know they have it. So in the interest of public service and your own health please read the following information about Hep C. One thing noted in the report of great importance is not sharing personal hygiene items such as fingernail clippers, toothbrushes and even combs and brushes. The Hep C virus has the unusual ability to live in the tiniest speck of dried blood for what is thought to be months while retaining it's ability to infect anyone unfortunate enough to come in contact with it. DON'T SHARE YOUR PERSONAL HYGIENE ITEMS FOLKS! And here's the report...
What Is Hepatitis C ?
Hepatitis C virus (HCV) causes inflammation of the liver. A national U. S. survey found that 1.8 percent of Americans – about 3.9 million – have been infected with HCV, of whom most about 2.7 million – are chronically infected with HCV, with many showing no signs or symptoms. The good news is that, in 1995, a reliable antibody test for HCV was finally implemented nationwide. About 41,000 new cases occurred in 1998 with 15-25% recovering spontaneously. Hepatitis C is a slow-progressing disease that may take 10-40 years to cause serious liver damage in some people.
Who Is At Risk?
Since about four million Americans are infected with HCV and most don't know it, you should have a blood test for hepatitis C whether you feel sick or not. About one in ten people infected with HCV have had no identifiable exposure to HCV. That said, here are several obvious risk factors:
Intravenous (IV) drug users – even IV use in the distant past.
Those with multiple sex partners or sex with partners who have other sexually transmitted diseases.
Those with tattoos or body piercing done with unsterile instruments. Anyone who has had a blood transfusion prior to 1992 or clotting factors produced before 1987.
Hemodialysis (diabetes) patients.
The potential for transmission from an HCV-infected mother to her newborn appears to be about 5%.
How Does it Spread?
Injection drug use is the primary risk for HCV infection. Injection drug use accounts for about 60% of all new cases of hepatitis C and is a major risk factor for infection with hepatitis B virus. Among frequent drug users, 50-80% are infected by HCV within the first 12 months of beginning injecting.
Straws shared in snorting drugs are also a potential source of infection of HCV. The hepatitis C virus is found mainly in blood.
HCV is not spread through kissing or casual contact.
In relationships where there is one steady partner, sexual transmission is exceedingly unusual, less than 3% over decades in sexually active couples. Transmission from HCV RNA negative individuals has never been reported. Sexual transmission may be more common among those with multiple sex partners or where there is a history of sexually transmitted disease but this remains controversial and unconfirmed.
HCV may be transmitted by using razors, needles, toothbrushes, nail files, a barber's scissors, tattooing equipment, body piercing or acupuncture needles if these items are contaminated by blood of an infected person.
Healthcare workers have a 2% risk of acquiring HCV after a needle stick contaminated with HCV-positive blood.
There is no evidence indicating that HCV is transmitted through breast milk.
The current transmission rate through blood transfusions is estimated at less than 1 per 1,000,000 units transfused.
Symptoms
Most people who are infected with the HCV do not have symptoms and are leading normal lives. If symptoms are present, they may be very mild and flu-like – nausea, fatigue, loss of appetite, fever, headaches, and abdominal pain. Most people do not have jaundice although jaundice can sometimes occur along with dark urine.
The incubation period varies from 2-26 weeks. Liver enzyme tests may range from being elevated to being normal for weeks to as long as a year. The virus is in the blood and may be causing liver cell damage, and the infected person can transmit the disease to others.
Diagnosis
Test for HCV antibodies: HCV infection can be determined by a simple and specific blood test that detects antibodies against HCV. The current enzyme immunoassay test (EIA) that detects anti-HCV has a sensitivity of about 95% in chronic HCV. HCV infection may be identified by anti-HCV testing in approximately 80% of people as early as five weeks after exposure. This test is not a part of a routine physical examination, and people must ask their doctor for a hepatitis C antibody test. (Note: The antibody itself does not provide immunity, and the test does not distinguish between acute or chronic infection.) If the initial test is positive, it test should be repeated to confirm the diagnosis (and exclude possible laboratory error). If the initial test is negative, but the infection could have occurred within the last six months and HCV is suspected, antibody levels may not be high enough yet to be detectable (antibodies may not be present in the first 4 weeks of infection in about 30% of patients) or you may lack immune response. Under these circumstances, ask you doctor about repeating the test and about alternative test methods.
Test liver enzyme levels: If you may already have chronic infection, your doctor will test the levels of two liver enzymes. These are alanine aminotransferase (ALT) and aspartate aminotrasferase (AST). Both are released when liver cells are injured or die. Elevated ALT and AST levels may appear and disappear throughout the course of the HCV infection. If the liver enzyme levels are normal with chronic HCV, they should be re-checked several times over a 6 - 12 month period. If the liver enzyme levels remain normal, your doctor may check them less frequently, such as once a year.
What Is Hepatitis C ?
Hepatitis C virus (HCV) causes inflammation of the liver. A national U. S. survey found that 1.8 percent of Americans – about 3.9 million – have been infected with HCV, of whom most about 2.7 million – are chronically infected with HCV, with many showing no signs or symptoms. The good news is that, in 1995, a reliable antibody test for HCV was finally implemented nationwide. About 41,000 new cases occurred in 1998 with 15-25% recovering spontaneously. Hepatitis C is a slow-progressing disease that may take 10-40 years to cause serious liver damage in some people.
Who Is At Risk?
Since about four million Americans are infected with HCV and most don't know it, you should have a blood test for hepatitis C whether you feel sick or not. About one in ten people infected with HCV have had no identifiable exposure to HCV. That said, here are several obvious risk factors:
Intravenous (IV) drug users – even IV use in the distant past.
Those with multiple sex partners or sex with partners who have other sexually transmitted diseases.
Those with tattoos or body piercing done with unsterile instruments. Anyone who has had a blood transfusion prior to 1992 or clotting factors produced before 1987.
Hemodialysis (diabetes) patients.
The potential for transmission from an HCV-infected mother to her newborn appears to be about 5%.
How Does it Spread?
Injection drug use is the primary risk for HCV infection. Injection drug use accounts for about 60% of all new cases of hepatitis C and is a major risk factor for infection with hepatitis B virus. Among frequent drug users, 50-80% are infected by HCV within the first 12 months of beginning injecting.
Straws shared in snorting drugs are also a potential source of infection of HCV. The hepatitis C virus is found mainly in blood.
HCV is not spread through kissing or casual contact.
In relationships where there is one steady partner, sexual transmission is exceedingly unusual, less than 3% over decades in sexually active couples. Transmission from HCV RNA negative individuals has never been reported. Sexual transmission may be more common among those with multiple sex partners or where there is a history of sexually transmitted disease but this remains controversial and unconfirmed.
HCV may be transmitted by using razors, needles, toothbrushes, nail files, a barber's scissors, tattooing equipment, body piercing or acupuncture needles if these items are contaminated by blood of an infected person.
Healthcare workers have a 2% risk of acquiring HCV after a needle stick contaminated with HCV-positive blood.
There is no evidence indicating that HCV is transmitted through breast milk.
The current transmission rate through blood transfusions is estimated at less than 1 per 1,000,000 units transfused.
Symptoms
Most people who are infected with the HCV do not have symptoms and are leading normal lives. If symptoms are present, they may be very mild and flu-like – nausea, fatigue, loss of appetite, fever, headaches, and abdominal pain. Most people do not have jaundice although jaundice can sometimes occur along with dark urine.
The incubation period varies from 2-26 weeks. Liver enzyme tests may range from being elevated to being normal for weeks to as long as a year. The virus is in the blood and may be causing liver cell damage, and the infected person can transmit the disease to others.
Diagnosis
Test for HCV antibodies: HCV infection can be determined by a simple and specific blood test that detects antibodies against HCV. The current enzyme immunoassay test (EIA) that detects anti-HCV has a sensitivity of about 95% in chronic HCV. HCV infection may be identified by anti-HCV testing in approximately 80% of people as early as five weeks after exposure. This test is not a part of a routine physical examination, and people must ask their doctor for a hepatitis C antibody test. (Note: The antibody itself does not provide immunity, and the test does not distinguish between acute or chronic infection.) If the initial test is positive, it test should be repeated to confirm the diagnosis (and exclude possible laboratory error). If the initial test is negative, but the infection could have occurred within the last six months and HCV is suspected, antibody levels may not be high enough yet to be detectable (antibodies may not be present in the first 4 weeks of infection in about 30% of patients) or you may lack immune response. Under these circumstances, ask you doctor about repeating the test and about alternative test methods.
Test liver enzyme levels: If you may already have chronic infection, your doctor will test the levels of two liver enzymes. These are alanine aminotransferase (ALT) and aspartate aminotrasferase (AST). Both are released when liver cells are injured or die. Elevated ALT and AST levels may appear and disappear throughout the course of the HCV infection. If the liver enzyme levels are normal with chronic HCV, they should be re-checked several times over a 6 - 12 month period. If the liver enzyme levels remain normal, your doctor may check them less frequently, such as once a year.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
A Song Before Bed
I'm busy these days transferring all of my music onto my IPod (yes I have succumbed to the almighty POD - I AM A POD PERSON NOW!) - including my huge collection of CD's, massive stacks of old obscure records (ok... yea I got some awful shit in my record collection I admit it) along with the record collection my mother left behind when she passed as well as all of my downloaded live music from trader friendly bands. A huge job to be sure and while I hate converting to the IPod format from the purer WAV files I can't argue with the ability to carry my entire library of music with me. Anyway tonight I burned a show by a band I like called Donna The Buffalo and the opening song to that night's show had kind of stuck in my head - a song called "Seems To Want To Hurt This Time"... Kind of sums up how I feel about life these days...
Seems To Want To Hurt This Time
Jeb Puryear
Life, love, potential love
Causes so much joy
Has the adverse power
To hurt you that much more
It's the same dark that falls
On the light that shines
Everything seems to want to hurt this time
I take a look inside
Nowhere to turn or go
No clear distinction
Above or below
Surreal existence
Casts its shadows to the blind
Everything seems to want to hurt this time
Aw, the party's crashin'
Fade into a distant drone
It only takes just one of us to be alone
Nobody's going but I still feel left behind
Everything seems to want to hurt this time
Red lights serenade me as I try to go
Outside the wind crashes with the smell of blowing snow
Three in the morning, cradled by a mental bind
Everything seems to want to hurt this time
Someday I will return
It will be none too soon
Jump off the front porch
Land on the crescent moon
Until then these fancy dreams
Are for another mind
Everything seems to want to hurt this time
All I want to do is wake up
Return to the loving kind
But everything seems to want to hurt this time
All I want to do is wake up
Return to the living kind
But everything seems to want to hurt this time
Seems To Want To Hurt This Time
Jeb Puryear
Life, love, potential love
Causes so much joy
Has the adverse power
To hurt you that much more
It's the same dark that falls
On the light that shines
Everything seems to want to hurt this time
I take a look inside
Nowhere to turn or go
No clear distinction
Above or below
Surreal existence
Casts its shadows to the blind
Everything seems to want to hurt this time
Aw, the party's crashin'
Fade into a distant drone
It only takes just one of us to be alone
Nobody's going but I still feel left behind
Everything seems to want to hurt this time
Red lights serenade me as I try to go
Outside the wind crashes with the smell of blowing snow
Three in the morning, cradled by a mental bind
Everything seems to want to hurt this time
Someday I will return
It will be none too soon
Jump off the front porch
Land on the crescent moon
Until then these fancy dreams
Are for another mind
Everything seems to want to hurt this time
All I want to do is wake up
Return to the loving kind
But everything seems to want to hurt this time
All I want to do is wake up
Return to the living kind
But everything seems to want to hurt this time
Sunday, January 13, 2008
New Year Same Old Sh*t
Well... now I know anyone who might be reading my blog (IS anyone reading my blog I wonder??) probably is wondering a few things... like am I crazy? And since I don't post with any kind of regularity what the hell is the point of me having a blog anyway and therefore why does it (and by extension why do any of us) exist? Well the answer to question one is probably and the answer to question number two requires too much time to answer and has been pondered over for thousands of years by some of the greatest philosopher's of our times. Of course, I'm the only one who knows the answer to that great question but I'm sure as hell not sharing it with anyone who reads this tripe. You wouldn't get it anyway. Which isn't to call any of you stupid or simple but hey you are reading my blog so what does that say? Case closed.
Anyway... it's a New Year with new challenges (like keeping people like Huckabee and Romney out of the friggin White House...) and as per my long standing policy of not picking any resolutions until at least the middle of the year there will be none listed here. Last year I made my resolutions in November and they all worked out pretty good so why mess with a good method eh?
Anyway for the past few months I have been doing treatment for Hepatitis C (which, if you don't know anything about you need to inform yourself about) - the treatment sucks - it consists of a weekly shot of Interferon (in my case Pegulated Interferon)which leaves you feeling like you have the flu for 3 days EVERY friggin week as well as a myriad of pills that have such charming side effects as fatigue, dizziness and uncontrollable emotional outbursts that usually exhibit themselves as something known as Riba-Rage (Ribavirin is one of the rude meds I have to take every day). In the first week of treatment the Riba-Rage actually ended up costing me my job. It was a shitty paying job with a psycho bitch for an office manager and I had been looking for another job anyway so it all worked out in the end. Turns out many people (the smart ones) don't work while they are on treatment. So I spend my days taking my meds and feeling sleepy and sometimes a little rage here and there and wait for the treatment to be done with (I finish in March I think and then there's another 6 months of clearing all the poisons out of my system). And despite eating I've lost more than 20 pounds since beginning treatment. I was 150 now I am 128 pounds. It ain't pretty. BUT it's working... my viral load has already gone undetectable and I am likely to completely clear the virus. It's good to know it's working because as I said the treatment and the sides SUCK ASS!
Last couple of years have been rough - my partner of 12 years this coming March and I have been on a roller coaster in life. Somehow I doubt the ride is over so when I don't post it's either because I am constantly dealing with the side effects of my meds or I'm too busy holding on for dear life while riding the roller coaster.
So Happy New Year to any fool who might be reading this... who knows when I will post again? Could be tomorrow could be next week might not be ever.
That's kind of how life is...
Anyway... it's a New Year with new challenges (like keeping people like Huckabee and Romney out of the friggin White House...) and as per my long standing policy of not picking any resolutions until at least the middle of the year there will be none listed here. Last year I made my resolutions in November and they all worked out pretty good so why mess with a good method eh?
Anyway for the past few months I have been doing treatment for Hepatitis C (which, if you don't know anything about you need to inform yourself about) - the treatment sucks - it consists of a weekly shot of Interferon (in my case Pegulated Interferon)which leaves you feeling like you have the flu for 3 days EVERY friggin week as well as a myriad of pills that have such charming side effects as fatigue, dizziness and uncontrollable emotional outbursts that usually exhibit themselves as something known as Riba-Rage (Ribavirin is one of the rude meds I have to take every day). In the first week of treatment the Riba-Rage actually ended up costing me my job. It was a shitty paying job with a psycho bitch for an office manager and I had been looking for another job anyway so it all worked out in the end. Turns out many people (the smart ones) don't work while they are on treatment. So I spend my days taking my meds and feeling sleepy and sometimes a little rage here and there and wait for the treatment to be done with (I finish in March I think and then there's another 6 months of clearing all the poisons out of my system). And despite eating I've lost more than 20 pounds since beginning treatment. I was 150 now I am 128 pounds. It ain't pretty. BUT it's working... my viral load has already gone undetectable and I am likely to completely clear the virus. It's good to know it's working because as I said the treatment and the sides SUCK ASS!
Last couple of years have been rough - my partner of 12 years this coming March and I have been on a roller coaster in life. Somehow I doubt the ride is over so when I don't post it's either because I am constantly dealing with the side effects of my meds or I'm too busy holding on for dear life while riding the roller coaster.
So Happy New Year to any fool who might be reading this... who knows when I will post again? Could be tomorrow could be next week might not be ever.
That's kind of how life is...
Monday, September 10, 2007
Sexual Compulsion
I am a reluctant member of a community that has adopted Sexual Compulsion and Addiction as a cultural badge of honor and celebrates and values sexual promiscuity and conquest above relationships, love, intimacy and commitment. This "culture" has resulted in the birth of a plethora of gay Internet "hook up sites" that reduces sex (and the "quest" for it) to the equivalent of getting a "meal" at McDonald's or any number of other fast food joints, the most popular of which (of the gay sex hookup sites NOT the fast food places... it's so easy to get them confused I know...) is a site called Manhunt. The very name conjures up imagery of men as nothing more than animals to be hunted, conquered and mounted and finally displayed in the trophy room. It also happens to be a great place to get drugs and a multitude of diseases and they even slyly promote this kind of activity. They should rename it McManhunt (where EVERYTHING HAS to be Super-Sized) and have Grimace as their mascot. It's fast, it's easy, there's always a couple of different items to choose from on the menu - and just like fast food, fast sex ultimately is BAD FOR YOU. There's no arguing this point. Just like fast food burgers clog your arteries, fast sex clogs your pleasure receptors. Just as fast food cripples your ability to discern (or even care about) the difference between good and bad food, fast sex has the same effect on one's ability to tell the difference between good and bad sex, and even worst, leaves you not really caring either way just so long as you meet the daily requirements of your diet.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Ignorance (as viewed by Frank Zappa)
More of the same - I couldn't say it better...
The Exaltation of Ignorance
Stupidity has a certain charm -- ignorance does not.
It has been said that ignorance is bliss -- I'm not so sure. Perhaps I have been deprived in this regard but,
never having been truly ignorant, I find it difficult to speak with any authority on the topic of such a
'blissful state.'
I have, however, observed a lot of other people who were certifiably ignorant, and I wouldn't say they
were in a state of 'bliss.' They were having a good time, but I wouldn't call it 'bliss.'
When we celebrate Ignorance, and make that the National Standard of Excellence, we embarrass
ourselves.
We celebrate it in hit records, TV sitcoms, most films, most commercials and, to a great extent, in our
schools.
Our school systems train kids to be ignorant, with style -- functional ignoramuses. They do not equip
students to deal with things like logic; they don't give them the criteria by which to judge between good
and bad in any product or situation. They are groomed and launched to function as mindless buying
machines for the products and concepts of a multinational military-industrial complex that needs a World
Of Dumbells to survive.
As long as you're just smart enough to do some kind of job, and just dumb enough to swallow the bunting,
you're going to be 'all right' -- but, if you venture beyond that, you run the risk of mysterious stomach
problems and migraine headaches.
I believe that U.S. schools have a Search and Destroy program, aimed at any hint of creative thinking
exhibited by students. Somebody plans this curriculum. Somebody writes those textbooks. Somebody sets
those standards. Somebody watches to make sure it all goes well. Somebody pays big bucks for this shit.
The Exaltation of Ignorance
Stupidity has a certain charm -- ignorance does not.
It has been said that ignorance is bliss -- I'm not so sure. Perhaps I have been deprived in this regard but,
never having been truly ignorant, I find it difficult to speak with any authority on the topic of such a
'blissful state.'
I have, however, observed a lot of other people who were certifiably ignorant, and I wouldn't say they
were in a state of 'bliss.' They were having a good time, but I wouldn't call it 'bliss.'
When we celebrate Ignorance, and make that the National Standard of Excellence, we embarrass
ourselves.
We celebrate it in hit records, TV sitcoms, most films, most commercials and, to a great extent, in our
schools.
Our school systems train kids to be ignorant, with style -- functional ignoramuses. They do not equip
students to deal with things like logic; they don't give them the criteria by which to judge between good
and bad in any product or situation. They are groomed and launched to function as mindless buying
machines for the products and concepts of a multinational military-industrial complex that needs a World
Of Dumbells to survive.
As long as you're just smart enough to do some kind of job, and just dumb enough to swallow the bunting,
you're going to be 'all right' -- but, if you venture beyond that, you run the risk of mysterious stomach
problems and migraine headaches.
I believe that U.S. schools have a Search and Destroy program, aimed at any hint of creative thinking
exhibited by students. Somebody plans this curriculum. Somebody writes those textbooks. Somebody sets
those standards. Somebody watches to make sure it all goes well. Somebody pays big bucks for this shit.
Stupidity as told by Frank Zappa
Following is an except from "The Real Frank Zappa Book" - I wanted to blog about the incredible amount of stupidity I witness every day but this says it so well there's little one can add...
Hydrogen
"As you grow older in your observation of the peoples of this Earth
world, it becomes more noticeable that stupidity is the reigning virtue.
The masses are always willing that somebody take the responsibility of
caring for them."
Paul Twitchell, The Far Country
Some scientists claim that hydrogen, because it is so plentiful, is the basic building block of the universe. I
dispute that. I say there is more stupidity than hydrogen, and that is the basic building block of the
universe.
This is not a matter of 'pessimism' vs. 'optimism' -- it's a matter of accurate assessment.
Not only is there more stupidity than anything else in terms of universal quantity, but there is a wonderful
quality to this stupidity. It is so intensely perfect that it completely overwhelms whatever it is that nature
has piled up on the other pan of the scale.
Stupidity is replicating itself at an astonishing rate. It breeds easily and is self-financing.
The person who stands up and says, "This is stupid," either is asked to 'behave' or, worse, is greeted with a
cheerful "Yes, we know! Isn't it terrific!"
When Hitler was doing his shit, a whole bunch of people thought he was terrific, too. How could they be
wrong? There were so many of them; they thought they looked good together -- their arms all went up at
the same time.
It seems to me that Americans in the eighties exhibit a remarkable willingness to embrace Fascism,
especially when it is presented to them on a TV tray with balloons and bunting all over it.
It would be easier to pay off the national debt overnight than to neutralize the long-range effects of OUR
NATIONAL STUPIDITY.
Forget about Iranian stupidity, or Chinese, or Russian, or South American, or Canadian stupidity -- our
very own homemade incompetence gets The Grand Prize.
We're not talking light-hearted foolishness here -- when we go for stupid we go for BIG STUPID -- like
people who shoot at you on the freeway, or the Rambos and Ramboettes who blow people away in
shopping malls and fast-food restaurants with automatic weapons.
Here it comes, folks! Watch it grow! One day, the BIG STUPID goes to a PTA meeting, winds through
the PTL Club, wends its way to the White House, spreads out from the Oval Office like a cow flop into
the judiciary system, dribbles over onto the desks of BIG BUSINESS, and the next thing you know we've
got THE VERY BIG STUPID.
THE VERY BIG STUPID is a thing which breeds by eating The Future. Have you seen it? It sometimes
disguises itself as a good-looking quarterly bottom line, derived by closing the R&D Department.
I can't think of any developing nation with a genuine 'fondness' for America. People in these countries see
America as a threat to their national security; they see US as an 'Evil Empire.' Everything Reagan said in
the early days about Russia is easily descriptive of our country, viewed by a developing nation.
Because we possess THE VERY BIG STUPID, they know there is always the possibility that we might
use it on them -- accidentally.
Folks, over the years we have developed a first-strike capability with this hideous weapon, and have
already deployed it several times, disguised as Reagan Administration 'foreign policy.'
Some people in the Imaginary Heartland of America might say, "Who gives a shit? They ain't going to get
us. They ain't coming over here. Why, some of em don't even have air-o-planes."
That kind of guy has bought stock in the THE VERY BIG STUPID, and has reaped a philosophical
dividend which states on its face that, as a Special Christian Nation, we have the right to stomp all over
the other guys (Manifest Destiny). God is on Our Side, and we're supposed to do this, because we're the
only creatures sophisticated enough to bring peace and sanity to the rest of the world.
Pheeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwww.
Hydrogen
"As you grow older in your observation of the peoples of this Earth
world, it becomes more noticeable that stupidity is the reigning virtue.
The masses are always willing that somebody take the responsibility of
caring for them."
Paul Twitchell, The Far Country
Some scientists claim that hydrogen, because it is so plentiful, is the basic building block of the universe. I
dispute that. I say there is more stupidity than hydrogen, and that is the basic building block of the
universe.
This is not a matter of 'pessimism' vs. 'optimism' -- it's a matter of accurate assessment.
Not only is there more stupidity than anything else in terms of universal quantity, but there is a wonderful
quality to this stupidity. It is so intensely perfect that it completely overwhelms whatever it is that nature
has piled up on the other pan of the scale.
Stupidity is replicating itself at an astonishing rate. It breeds easily and is self-financing.
The person who stands up and says, "This is stupid," either is asked to 'behave' or, worse, is greeted with a
cheerful "Yes, we know! Isn't it terrific!"
When Hitler was doing his shit, a whole bunch of people thought he was terrific, too. How could they be
wrong? There were so many of them; they thought they looked good together -- their arms all went up at
the same time.
It seems to me that Americans in the eighties exhibit a remarkable willingness to embrace Fascism,
especially when it is presented to them on a TV tray with balloons and bunting all over it.
It would be easier to pay off the national debt overnight than to neutralize the long-range effects of OUR
NATIONAL STUPIDITY.
Forget about Iranian stupidity, or Chinese, or Russian, or South American, or Canadian stupidity -- our
very own homemade incompetence gets The Grand Prize.
We're not talking light-hearted foolishness here -- when we go for stupid we go for BIG STUPID -- like
people who shoot at you on the freeway, or the Rambos and Ramboettes who blow people away in
shopping malls and fast-food restaurants with automatic weapons.
Here it comes, folks! Watch it grow! One day, the BIG STUPID goes to a PTA meeting, winds through
the PTL Club, wends its way to the White House, spreads out from the Oval Office like a cow flop into
the judiciary system, dribbles over onto the desks of BIG BUSINESS, and the next thing you know we've
got THE VERY BIG STUPID.
THE VERY BIG STUPID is a thing which breeds by eating The Future. Have you seen it? It sometimes
disguises itself as a good-looking quarterly bottom line, derived by closing the R&D Department.
I can't think of any developing nation with a genuine 'fondness' for America. People in these countries see
America as a threat to their national security; they see US as an 'Evil Empire.' Everything Reagan said in
the early days about Russia is easily descriptive of our country, viewed by a developing nation.
Because we possess THE VERY BIG STUPID, they know there is always the possibility that we might
use it on them -- accidentally.
Folks, over the years we have developed a first-strike capability with this hideous weapon, and have
already deployed it several times, disguised as Reagan Administration 'foreign policy.'
Some people in the Imaginary Heartland of America might say, "Who gives a shit? They ain't going to get
us. They ain't coming over here. Why, some of em don't even have air-o-planes."
That kind of guy has bought stock in the THE VERY BIG STUPID, and has reaped a philosophical
dividend which states on its face that, as a Special Christian Nation, we have the right to stomp all over
the other guys (Manifest Destiny). God is on Our Side, and we're supposed to do this, because we're the
only creatures sophisticated enough to bring peace and sanity to the rest of the world.
Pheeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwww.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Dale Jenkins
I recently came across an album recorded by a friend of mine by the name of Dale Jenkins way back in the early 1980's. Dale was a really nice fellow... tall, kinda geeky, troubled, but most of all a pretty talented musician. He and I had a casual friendship and talked a lot on the phone and hung out once in a while. He was a pretty depressed guy overall though... self conscious about his looks (although I always thought he was kind of sexy). We used to have long late night talks about all the usual teenage stuff... the meaning of life, the horrors of being a teenager and sexuality and so forth. A lot of our talks though were about how unhappy he was and his ultra-conservative religious mother who made him feel (according to him) worthless and evil. Dale did have a drug/alcohol/authority problem (like most teens of his age in that day) which landed him in a special school for troubled but gifted students. Dale was also gay... maybe bi, I don't know. I do know he wanted to date me and for some reason I turned him down repeatedly despite the fact that I was very fond of him. I don't think I was ready to fully admit to my own sexuality and at the time I didn't think he was my type at the time anyway. But we remained good friends throughout school... he would call me late at night and sing me various new songs and snippets of songs he had written. Usually dark and kind of sad but good nonetheless. After school ended we remained friends for a while but as so often happens we drifted apart and rarely spoke. There were a few nights when he called feeling suicidal but I was always able to bring him to his senses. Eventually though we just sort of stopped talking. I had heard he had made an album all on his own... produced by him and all instruments and songs performed and written by him. I was lucky enough to get one of a very limited amount of the records but for some reason never really listened to it. In any case, some time later, I opened the local gay newspaper to discover that sweet Dale was dead... an apparent suicide. I felt heartbroken and somewhat guilty in that I felt that had I been around I could have somehow saved him. Hell - we might have even ended up dating and falling in love. But I (and so many others I suppose) let him slip away. Recently I rediscovered his album in my collection and listened to it for the first time. Besides the fact that the songs are pretty well done I was struck by the pain and sorrow that permeated his lyrics. I wish I had not lost touch with him. He was a talented and nice (albeit troubled) young man who would have gone far in life. I did a search for him on the Internet and couldn't find one single reference to him anywhere which made me very sad. So this is Dale Jenkins' space on the Internet so that he won't ever be completely forgotten. He was a good guy and I miss him. Eventually I hope to present his single known album to anyone interested... in the meantime recognize the ones you love and hold on to them with all your strength. You never know when they will disappear from your life. More importantly, you never know when the loss of that person will hit you hardest... sometimes it's immediate and sometimes it sneaks up on you one day unexpectedly.... and sometimes it stays with you every moment of every day.
The main reason for this post is so that Dale won't be forgotten. I've done searches on the Internet with his name but came up with NO info about him. He deserves (like all people) to be remembered. If anyone out there is familiar with Dale or has any info on him please contact me so I can expand on his life.
I do hope eventually (if legal) to make his music available either here or via trade.
Peace!
Here's to Dale Jenkins may he rest in peace!
The main reason for this post is so that Dale won't be forgotten. I've done searches on the Internet with his name but came up with NO info about him. He deserves (like all people) to be remembered. If anyone out there is familiar with Dale or has any info on him please contact me so I can expand on his life.
I do hope eventually (if legal) to make his music available either here or via trade.
Peace!
Here's to Dale Jenkins may he rest in peace!
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Ohhh Poor Poor Paris
Ok... does anyone really gives a rats ass about where Paris Hilton in incarcerated?
I know I don't. Let he stay in her mansion - set up a little pink cell for her sorry ass and feed her prison cell food and make the little spoiled crazy bitch pay for it.
What's the problem here?
I find it kind of funny that tonight on the news how lawyers are trying to prove she has a mental condition... who the fuck doesn't have a mental condition and who the hell can possible have seen her on that awful train wreck of a show and not known the girl is mentally ill?
We've been greatly and sufficiently entertained by your public display of total lack of self control and your talent at raising being a spoiled brat bitch but guess what darling?
Your time is up!
It's been up for a while... you overstayed your Warholian declared 15 minutes of fame now would you kindly GO THE FUCK AWAY AND GET SOME HELP YOU STUPID SPOILED WHORE?
After all... unlike MOST addicts and alcoholics YOU CAN AFFORD TO GET GOOD HELP!
I know I don't. Let he stay in her mansion - set up a little pink cell for her sorry ass and feed her prison cell food and make the little spoiled crazy bitch pay for it.
What's the problem here?
I find it kind of funny that tonight on the news how lawyers are trying to prove she has a mental condition... who the fuck doesn't have a mental condition and who the hell can possible have seen her on that awful train wreck of a show and not known the girl is mentally ill?
We've been greatly and sufficiently entertained by your public display of total lack of self control and your talent at raising being a spoiled brat bitch but guess what darling?
Your time is up!
It's been up for a while... you overstayed your Warholian declared 15 minutes of fame now would you kindly GO THE FUCK AWAY AND GET SOME HELP YOU STUPID SPOILED WHORE?
After all... unlike MOST addicts and alcoholics YOU CAN AFFORD TO GET GOOD HELP!
Monday, May 28, 2007
Links to tests that YOU NEED TO TAKE
whatever you are doing right now - STOP IT!
This requires your undivided attention - don't bullshit here and say you don't have the time for this shit. You aren't nearly as important or busy as you pretend to be. So sit your sorry ass down for a half hour and take the following tests and learn a little about your TRUE NATURE. THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!
That is if you have the balls to face the real you...
This requires your undivided attention - don't bullshit here and say you don't have the time for this shit. You aren't nearly as important or busy as you pretend to be. So sit your sorry ass down for a half hour and take the following tests and learn a little about your TRUE NATURE. THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!
That is if you have the balls to face the real you...
Your true aura
THE ASSHOLE/BITCH TEST
grrrr
Ok... So I am less than happy at this moment in time. For one thing I am working on my laptop and laptops are just a great big pain the ass to do any serious amount of typing without that an abundance of typos...mostly coz the keys are too tightly compressed together for a normal man sized hand. Just one more sign the midget/dwarf/faerie species area about to stage a wold revolution in which we normal folk" are gonna end up converted amusement park rides (the parachute drop, the roller coaster through the inside to a real human body yeeehhaaa!, and of course the FREAK GASTROINTESTINAL LOG FLUME!"). But that's not what's got me pissed. I woke at 5 AM this morning with my mind racing with thoughts that needed to be BLOGGED immediately or they would be forever lost to those lost fiend brain cells still remaining from my party days. So I bolt quietly from my bed and head to my laptop and switch on some CNN(CNN AND CSPAN always gets me going if there's no BBC news to watch) down in my living room getting ready to smoke a little and start writing my deep, thought provoking essay which contained (I kid you not!) the answers to each and ever question related to the meaning of life but BLOGGERS new BULLSHIT autosave didn't save my post and wouldn't let me manually save it either so now you will just have to go through life clueless as to what it is all about
SO BLOGGER SUCKS!
SO BLOGGER SUCKS!
assholes semi-anonymous
I am surrounded by assholes everywhere. Even if you don't think you are one chances are that you probably are... just take a good look at all of the people you know - coworkers, loved ones, customers, total strangers, your parents, your children, your neighbors, your parole officer , your life mate, your paperboy, your grocer, people you in meet bars and at concerts, bums, crazy people, people attending funerals, people attending weddings, people attending a babies birth, people attending an execution and so on and so on. Face it - you are surrounded by shit-spewing tight asses who think their feces has the magnificent odor of a royal garden. Hell...even most of my friends are assholes (sorry guys but the truth hurts).
I'm an asshole too a good majority of the time.
BUT I KNOW IT AND I try to balance it out (even if just a little) by holding elevator doors for people and giving a homeless person a little money, or comfort someone who is feeling down or going though rough times. Hell, I even like baking cakes and treats for people I barely know to celebrate their birthdays or anniversaries or just to make them smile. I even buy flowers for co-workers once in a while. And rarely ever push old people down the stairs for my daily amusement (although it is always good for a laugh). But still, for the most part, I am an asshole. Like the times I am at the grocery store and some lazy bitch in front of me has an uncontrollable mutant epileptic pig tailed obnoxiously cute and pushy brat who will NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP about the candy the fat little piggie wants and how hot that little closeted gay boy on Teen People is while his/her/it's mom continues yacking away obliviously on her crappy cell phone( "Can you hear me now? How about if I YELL REAL LOUD HERE IN THE GROCERY AISLE?NOW CAN YOU HEAR ME?") about some meaningless and trivial matter that I shouldn't fucking have to listen to. I have been known on such occasions to berate (quite loudly) the parent as they try to continue their yacking on the phone - and if that fails I start in on the kid(s). Alec Baldwin has NOTHING on me when I get pissed! Sooner or later though I am bound to get arrested but I have no tolerance for bad parents or rude children so what choice do I have? All you folks spending all your time in public with that piece of plastic in your ear having what should be PRIVATE conversations need to know one thing:
Dumb All Over
-F. Zappa
Whoever we are
Wherever we're from
We shoulda noticed by now
Our behavior is dumb
And if our chances
Expect to improve
Its gonna take a lot more
Than tryin to remove
The other race
Or the other whatever
From the faceOf the planet
altogether
They call it the earth
Which is a dumb kinda name
But they named it right
cause we behave the same...
We are dumb all over
Dumb all over,
Yes we are
Dumb all over,
Near n far
Dumb all over,
Black n white
People, we is not wrapped tight
Nerds on the left
Nerds on the right
Religious fanatics
On the air every night
Sayin the bible
Tells the story
Makes the details
Sound real gory
bout what to do
If the geeks over there
Don't believe in the book
We got over here
You cant run a race
Without no feet
n pretty soon
There wont be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religious fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(I mean it wont blow up
n disappear
It'll just look ugly
For a thousand years...)
You cant run a country
By a book of religion
Not by a heap
Or a lump or a smidgen
Of foolish rules
Of ancient date
Designed to make
You all feel great
While you fold, spindle
And mutilate
Those unbelievers
From a neighboring state
To arms! to arms!
Hooray! that's great
Two legs ain't bad
Unless there's a crate
They ship the parts
To mama in
For souvenirs: two ears (get down!)
Not his, not hers, (but what the hey? )
The good book says:(it gotta be that way!)
But their book says:
Revenge the crusades...
With whips n chains
n hand grenades...
Two arms? two arms? Have another and another
Our God says:There ain't no other!
Our God says:Its all okay!
Our God says:This is the way!
It says in the book:
Burn n destroy...
n repent, n redeem n revenge, n deploy n rumble thee forth
To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side
cause they don't go for whats in the book
n that makes em bad
So verily we must choppeth them up
And stompeth them down
Or rent a nice french bomb
To poof them out of existence
While leaving their real estate just where we need it
To use again
For temples in which to praise our god
(cause he can really take care of business!)
And when his humble TV servant
With humble white hair
And humble glasses
And a nice brown suit
And maybe a blond wife who takes phone calls
Tells us our God says
Its okay to do this stuff
Then we gotta do it,cause if we don't do it,
We ain't gwine up to hebbin!
(depending on which book you're using at theTime...cant use theirs... it don't work...its all lies...gotta use mine...)
Ain't that right?
That's what they say
Every night...
Every day...
Hey, we cant really be dumb
If were just following gods orders
Hey, lets get serious...
God knows what hes doin
He wrote this book here
And the book says:
He made us all to be just like him,
So...
If we're dumb...
Then God is dumb...
(and maybe even a little ugly on the side)
I'm an asshole too a good majority of the time.
BUT I KNOW IT AND I try to balance it out (even if just a little) by holding elevator doors for people and giving a homeless person a little money, or comfort someone who is feeling down or going though rough times. Hell, I even like baking cakes and treats for people I barely know to celebrate their birthdays or anniversaries or just to make them smile. I even buy flowers for co-workers once in a while. And rarely ever push old people down the stairs for my daily amusement (although it is always good for a laugh). But still, for the most part, I am an asshole. Like the times I am at the grocery store and some lazy bitch in front of me has an uncontrollable mutant epileptic pig tailed obnoxiously cute and pushy brat who will NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP about the candy the fat little piggie wants and how hot that little closeted gay boy on Teen People is while his/her/it's mom continues yacking away obliviously on her crappy cell phone( "Can you hear me now? How about if I YELL REAL LOUD HERE IN THE GROCERY AISLE?NOW CAN YOU HEAR ME?") about some meaningless and trivial matter that I shouldn't fucking have to listen to. I have been known on such occasions to berate (quite loudly) the parent as they try to continue their yacking on the phone - and if that fails I start in on the kid(s). Alec Baldwin has NOTHING on me when I get pissed! Sooner or later though I am bound to get arrested but I have no tolerance for bad parents or rude children so what choice do I have? All you folks spending all your time in public with that piece of plastic in your ear having what should be PRIVATE conversations need to know one thing:
Dumb All Over
-F. Zappa
Whoever we are
Wherever we're from
We shoulda noticed by now
Our behavior is dumb
And if our chances
Expect to improve
Its gonna take a lot more
Than tryin to remove
The other race
Or the other whatever
From the faceOf the planet
altogether
They call it the earth
Which is a dumb kinda name
But they named it right
cause we behave the same...
We are dumb all over
Dumb all over,
Yes we are
Dumb all over,
Near n far
Dumb all over,
Black n white
People, we is not wrapped tight
Nerds on the left
Nerds on the right
Religious fanatics
On the air every night
Sayin the bible
Tells the story
Makes the details
Sound real gory
bout what to do
If the geeks over there
Don't believe in the book
We got over here
You cant run a race
Without no feet
n pretty soon
There wont be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religious fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(I mean it wont blow up
n disappear
It'll just look ugly
For a thousand years...)
You cant run a country
By a book of religion
Not by a heap
Or a lump or a smidgen
Of foolish rules
Of ancient date
Designed to make
You all feel great
While you fold, spindle
And mutilate
Those unbelievers
From a neighboring state
To arms! to arms!
Hooray! that's great
Two legs ain't bad
Unless there's a crate
They ship the parts
To mama in
For souvenirs: two ears (get down!)
Not his, not hers, (but what the hey? )
The good book says:(it gotta be that way!)
But their book says:
Revenge the crusades...
With whips n chains
n hand grenades...
Two arms? two arms? Have another and another
Our God says:There ain't no other!
Our God says:Its all okay!
Our God says:This is the way!
It says in the book:
Burn n destroy...
n repent, n redeem n revenge, n deploy n rumble thee forth
To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side
cause they don't go for whats in the book
n that makes em bad
So verily we must choppeth them up
And stompeth them down
Or rent a nice french bomb
To poof them out of existence
While leaving their real estate just where we need it
To use again
For temples in which to praise our god
(cause he can really take care of business!)
And when his humble TV servant
With humble white hair
And humble glasses
And a nice brown suit
And maybe a blond wife who takes phone calls
Tells us our God says
Its okay to do this stuff
Then we gotta do it,cause if we don't do it,
We ain't gwine up to hebbin!
(depending on which book you're using at theTime...cant use theirs... it don't work...its all lies...gotta use mine...)
Ain't that right?
That's what they say
Every night...
Every day...
Hey, we cant really be dumb
If were just following gods orders
Hey, lets get serious...
God knows what hes doin
He wrote this book here
And the book says:
He made us all to be just like him,
So...
If we're dumb...
Then God is dumb...
(and maybe even a little ugly on the side)
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
DING DONG FALWELLS DEAD!
Jerry Falwell was found dead in his office at Liberty University today. It is being speculated that he may have died of a heart rhythm abnormality.
I think not.
I think the evil little butterball was murdered.
And I know who did it.
Think about it... Falwell's outing of Tinky Winky in 1999 created a furor (not to be confused with the Fuhrer he created when his Moral Majority - which was neither - helped Ronald Reagan win the White House...) and led to the demise of the great 90's Supergroup known as the Teletubbies. Ultimately poor Tinky (who was humiliated by the allegations but never publicly denied them) lost everything... his family, his friends, his money, and his pride (get it? Pride? get it????). Then came the legendary "lost years" during which Tinky descended into a haze of drug and alcohol fueled self-destructive behaviour. For a while he was seen turning tricks behind a notoriously famous leather bar in San Francisco for money to support his all but crippling crystal meth addiction. There is the now infamous incident where Tinky, drunken out of his mind, heckled one of the Smothers Brothers during their standup act while wearing a tampon on his head. The poor guy was really messed up... I mean Tinky was utterly and totally destroyed by what Falwell did to him.
There are a couple of theories as to why Falwell outed poor Tinky. One theory says that Falwell was outraged by Tinky Winky and his friends use of the name "Teletubbies" as Falwell was not only one of the original Televangalists but also the first true teletubby (fat bastard that he was). The more accepted theory however, is that Rev. Falwell and Tinky had been having a secret affair for some time, but in late 1998 Tinky met a young Barney The Dinosaur and fell instantly head over heels in love. The two tried to keep their affair a secret but after several months, Falwell simply could no longer ignore the tabloid rumors and photos of Tinky and Barney out at all the big nightspots. In a jealous rage, he demanded Tinky immediately cut off all contact with Barney but Tinky refused, gathered his belongings from the Falwell mansion and moved into Barney's spacious uptown condo. The next morning Falwell was all over the news talking trash about poor Tinky... "He's purple... that's the color of the gays" and "He carries a purse... that's really gay" and "He has an upside down triangle on his head... that clinches it" and stuff like that. Falwell warned parents what a bad influence on their children (and society at large) this strange gay creature was and within days Tinky's endorsement deals had dried up (with the exception of a line of bizarre Tinky Winky clubwear and circuit party accessories), his agent and bandmates wouldn't return his calls and worst of all, Barney had kicked him out of the condo and was quickly distancing himself from Tinky. Tinky begged him to stay but Barney (also being a purple creature of questionable sexuality who worked with children) told Tinky he couldn't risk losing his dream of being a BIG STAR! And so, with that one terrible revelation, Falwell managed to destroy Tinky's life. Poor Tinky couldn't even retaliate by counter-outing him since Falwell had destroyed all evidence of their relationship, although there are rumors of a sizzling hot home sex movie floating around on the internet that they made together which showcases Tinky's "other enormous talent" as well as Falwell's unholy ability to accommodate Tinky's aforementioned talent. (And you thought Tommy Lee and Pamela Anderson had it going on...)
In recent years, Tinky's drinking and drug acquaintances say he often ranted about "that fat bastard who ruined my life" and had vowed to get revenge on Falwell no matter what. It is being reported now that he had been sited wandering the streets of Lynchburg not far from Liberty University for the past several weeks, muttering to himself and cursing at stop signs.
So my theory is that Tinky stalked Jerry for a few days, learning his routine and then broke into his office and butt fucked Jerry Falwell all the way to hell. Go ahead... bring Tinky Winky in for questioning... see if he has an alibi. Check Falwell's body both outside and in any...uh...orifices for a slimy, salty, purple liquid of some type.
Tinky did it - and I am glad. Falwell was a tremendous dick of a human being with no compassion for (and no understanding of) people "not like him".
I'm glad the douchebag is gone and I'm not ashamed to say it. One more nail in the coffin of the nightmare known as "The Reagan Era"
So thanks Tinky, wherever you are!
You did good little purple dude!
I think not.
I think the evil little butterball was murdered.
And I know who did it.
Think about it... Falwell's outing of Tinky Winky in 1999 created a furor (not to be confused with the Fuhrer he created when his Moral Majority - which was neither - helped Ronald Reagan win the White House...) and led to the demise of the great 90's Supergroup known as the Teletubbies. Ultimately poor Tinky (who was humiliated by the allegations but never publicly denied them) lost everything... his family, his friends, his money, and his pride (get it? Pride? get it????). Then came the legendary "lost years" during which Tinky descended into a haze of drug and alcohol fueled self-destructive behaviour. For a while he was seen turning tricks behind a notoriously famous leather bar in San Francisco for money to support his all but crippling crystal meth addiction. There is the now infamous incident where Tinky, drunken out of his mind, heckled one of the Smothers Brothers during their standup act while wearing a tampon on his head. The poor guy was really messed up... I mean Tinky was utterly and totally destroyed by what Falwell did to him.
There are a couple of theories as to why Falwell outed poor Tinky. One theory says that Falwell was outraged by Tinky Winky and his friends use of the name "Teletubbies" as Falwell was not only one of the original Televangalists but also the first true teletubby (fat bastard that he was). The more accepted theory however, is that Rev. Falwell and Tinky had been having a secret affair for some time, but in late 1998 Tinky met a young Barney The Dinosaur and fell instantly head over heels in love. The two tried to keep their affair a secret but after several months, Falwell simply could no longer ignore the tabloid rumors and photos of Tinky and Barney out at all the big nightspots. In a jealous rage, he demanded Tinky immediately cut off all contact with Barney but Tinky refused, gathered his belongings from the Falwell mansion and moved into Barney's spacious uptown condo. The next morning Falwell was all over the news talking trash about poor Tinky... "He's purple... that's the color of the gays" and "He carries a purse... that's really gay" and "He has an upside down triangle on his head... that clinches it" and stuff like that. Falwell warned parents what a bad influence on their children (and society at large) this strange gay creature was and within days Tinky's endorsement deals had dried up (with the exception of a line of bizarre Tinky Winky clubwear and circuit party accessories), his agent and bandmates wouldn't return his calls and worst of all, Barney had kicked him out of the condo and was quickly distancing himself from Tinky. Tinky begged him to stay but Barney (also being a purple creature of questionable sexuality who worked with children) told Tinky he couldn't risk losing his dream of being a BIG STAR! And so, with that one terrible revelation, Falwell managed to destroy Tinky's life. Poor Tinky couldn't even retaliate by counter-outing him since Falwell had destroyed all evidence of their relationship, although there are rumors of a sizzling hot home sex movie floating around on the internet that they made together which showcases Tinky's "other enormous talent" as well as Falwell's unholy ability to accommodate Tinky's aforementioned talent. (And you thought Tommy Lee and Pamela Anderson had it going on...)
In recent years, Tinky's drinking and drug acquaintances say he often ranted about "that fat bastard who ruined my life" and had vowed to get revenge on Falwell no matter what. It is being reported now that he had been sited wandering the streets of Lynchburg not far from Liberty University for the past several weeks, muttering to himself and cursing at stop signs.
So my theory is that Tinky stalked Jerry for a few days, learning his routine and then broke into his office and butt fucked Jerry Falwell all the way to hell. Go ahead... bring Tinky Winky in for questioning... see if he has an alibi. Check Falwell's body both outside and in any...uh...orifices for a slimy, salty, purple liquid of some type.
Tinky did it - and I am glad. Falwell was a tremendous dick of a human being with no compassion for (and no understanding of) people "not like him".
I'm glad the douchebag is gone and I'm not ashamed to say it. One more nail in the coffin of the nightmare known as "The Reagan Era"
So thanks Tinky, wherever you are!
You did good little purple dude!
Friday, April 06, 2007
Scarey People Stupid Freaks
So I was online on a gay cruising site and I get this email from a 21 year old kid and in his email are several links to various sites on the Internet disputing the existence of HIV. Let me repeat that - a 21 YEAR OLD is trying to convince me that the virus that has been living in my body longer than he has been living on this Earth doesn't exist. The virus that I watched wipe out a huge chunk of the gay community in a few short years isn't real! And he believes this all because he has access to the Internet and found a few sites that agree with his nutjob viewpoint and offer "hard facts" to help him state his case. All I have to combat that with is 25 years of personal experience. Oh... and the vast majority of the scientific and medical community...
If you are one of those people who believes HIV doesn't exist let me just counter by saying I don't believe your brain exists. That's probably more likely in the end.
And if any of you morons really believe that HIV is an imaginary disease I would be more than happy to send you a vial of my blood for you to inject into yourself so that you can find out firsthand just how real it is. Dipshit!
If you are one of those people who believes HIV doesn't exist let me just counter by saying I don't believe your brain exists. That's probably more likely in the end.
And if any of you morons really believe that HIV is an imaginary disease I would be more than happy to send you a vial of my blood for you to inject into yourself so that you can find out firsthand just how real it is. Dipshit!
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
The Wild, Wild... East??
Howdy pardners! Things is gettin mighty weird around these here parts... what with the new Congress and King George the Cowboy having a big ol showdown...
In response to King George's whinefest over Congress's passing of the bill that (hopefully) is finally going to bring an end to the aforementioned King's vendetta in Iraq (you tried to kill mah pappy now feel my wrath...), Nancy Pelosi (our brilliant Speaker of The House) said:
"Calm down with the threats... there's a new Congress in town..."
Oh my!! Someone in Congress who can actually speak the President's native language... Bad John Wayne Movie Cowboy-ese. I am so very impressed and excited! What a great moment in recent Amerikan History (misspelling intentional - I'll start using a "c" again when we start using the Constitution again ok?)... finally Congress has a translator who is fluent in the native language of the sitting President! Yeeeehaaaawwwwww!!!
At the same time it gives me a bit of the shivers though, I must admit. In the back of my head I am hearing that bad Cowboy showdown music (The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly). I'm seeing visions of citizen's scooping up their children and scurrying off the streets into the nearest shuttered building where they begin to barricade themselves while tumbleweeds roll down the empty streets. The sun is hanging low in the sky... casting long, ominous shadows down... uhm.... Pennsylvania Avenue I guess. More showdown music... the shootout is imminent... the tension is heavy in the air. All I know is I'm headin to the Saloon for a drink...
Jesus H Christ... Washington DC has turned into a bad Western B-movie. Can we at least charge the rest of the world some sort of small fee for providing this kind of entertainment?
Oh wait... the rest of the world is already paying out the ass for our shenanigans aren't they?
Oooops... sorry... our bad.
In response to King George's whinefest over Congress's passing of the bill that (hopefully) is finally going to bring an end to the aforementioned King's vendetta in Iraq (you tried to kill mah pappy now feel my wrath...), Nancy Pelosi (our brilliant Speaker of The House) said:
"Calm down with the threats... there's a new Congress in town..."
Oh my!! Someone in Congress who can actually speak the President's native language... Bad John Wayne Movie Cowboy-ese. I am so very impressed and excited! What a great moment in recent Amerikan History (misspelling intentional - I'll start using a "c" again when we start using the Constitution again ok?)... finally Congress has a translator who is fluent in the native language of the sitting President! Yeeeehaaaawwwwww!!!
At the same time it gives me a bit of the shivers though, I must admit. In the back of my head I am hearing that bad Cowboy showdown music (The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly). I'm seeing visions of citizen's scooping up their children and scurrying off the streets into the nearest shuttered building where they begin to barricade themselves while tumbleweeds roll down the empty streets. The sun is hanging low in the sky... casting long, ominous shadows down... uhm.... Pennsylvania Avenue I guess. More showdown music... the shootout is imminent... the tension is heavy in the air. All I know is I'm headin to the Saloon for a drink...
Jesus H Christ... Washington DC has turned into a bad Western B-movie. Can we at least charge the rest of the world some sort of small fee for providing this kind of entertainment?
Oh wait... the rest of the world is already paying out the ass for our shenanigans aren't they?
Oooops... sorry... our bad.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
The Idiot Bastard King
Ahhh... gotta love the idiocy of "King George W. Bush"...
except from an article printed yesterday about the new funding bill for the "war in Iraq" that speaks for itself to the total idiocy of the man running this war -
A House committee on Thursday approved the spending bill. It includes a troop withdrawal deadline of Sept. 1, 2008. It also requires that troops receive proper training, equipment and rest, although Bush is permitted to waive those provisions.
Bush said all of those "arbitrary and restrictive conditions" are unacceptable.
"These restrictions would handcuff our generals in the field by denying them the flexibility they need to adjust their operations to the changing situation on the ground," he said. "And these restrictions would substitute the mandates of Congress for the considered judgment of our military commanders
Great idea - I mean really , do our troops really need all that equipment and training and rest? Why hell that stuff is for WHIMPS and we ain't no whimps here in Amerika! Suck it up boyz!!
I would just like to take this opportunity to apologize to the entire world for Amerika's current rampage and would like to gently remind you that we didn't actually elect the dickhead in charge of the rampage. Oh and if possible could you maybe send help? After all we are being held hostage by an Idiot Bastard King...
except from an article printed yesterday about the new funding bill for the "war in Iraq" that speaks for itself to the total idiocy of the man running this war -
A House committee on Thursday approved the spending bill. It includes a troop withdrawal deadline of Sept. 1, 2008. It also requires that troops receive proper training, equipment and rest, although Bush is permitted to waive those provisions.
Bush said all of those "arbitrary and restrictive conditions" are unacceptable.
"These restrictions would handcuff our generals in the field by denying them the flexibility they need to adjust their operations to the changing situation on the ground," he said. "And these restrictions would substitute the mandates of Congress for the considered judgment of our military commanders
Great idea - I mean really , do our troops really need all that equipment and training and rest? Why hell that stuff is for WHIMPS and we ain't no whimps here in Amerika! Suck it up boyz!!
I would just like to take this opportunity to apologize to the entire world for Amerika's current rampage and would like to gently remind you that we didn't actually elect the dickhead in charge of the rampage. Oh and if possible could you maybe send help? After all we are being held hostage by an Idiot Bastard King...
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Van Who?
Yet another news report that has me laughing like a hyena...
Van Halen, R.E.M. head into rock hall
03/12/2007 11:48 PM, AP
David Bauder
Two of the biggest rock bands of the 1980s took different paths to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on Monday — indie favorites R.E.M. with a happy reunion and party band Van Halen with a fragmentary turnout.
Only Van Halen's second lead singer, Sammy Hagar, and ex-bass player Michael Anthony turned up for their induction. Guitarist Eddie Van Halen has just gone into rehab and original lead singer David Lee Roth stayed away in a tiff over what he would perform.
Hagar said he wished his bandmates could be there, but "it's out of our control."
"It's hard for Mike and I to be up here to do this, but you couldn't have kept me away from this with a shotgun," Hagar said.
It took less to keep Roth away. He stood up the hall, reportedly because he couldn't agree on what to sing with the band Velvet Revolver, which offered a tribute. Joel Peresman, president and CEO of the Hall of Fame, said Roth was offered a chance to sing a song of his choice with the house band. "The decision not to come was solely his, not ours."
Hagar and Anthony joined Velvet Revolver to sing "Why Can't This Be Love."
How funny is it that the only members of the band that showed up are guys that got kicked out of the band? Why wasn't Alex Van Halen there... I mean it would have been nice to have at least one REAL Van Halen there to accept the award. And who the hell invited Velvet Revolver to this debacle? Even more importantly why is Velvet Revolver being tapped to replace Van Halen on their recently cancelled tour? Is it really a good idea to replace a band that dropped out of a tour due to their leader being in rehab with a band whose singer is legendary for his addiction troubles and has his own wing at every rehab clinic in the country? Yes Scott Weiland I mean you... is Eddie really that much more messed up than Scott? YIKES!! Best bet is this tour will never happen...
Van Halen, R.E.M. head into rock hall
03/12/2007 11:48 PM, AP
David Bauder
Two of the biggest rock bands of the 1980s took different paths to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on Monday — indie favorites R.E.M. with a happy reunion and party band Van Halen with a fragmentary turnout.
Only Van Halen's second lead singer, Sammy Hagar, and ex-bass player Michael Anthony turned up for their induction. Guitarist Eddie Van Halen has just gone into rehab and original lead singer David Lee Roth stayed away in a tiff over what he would perform.
Hagar said he wished his bandmates could be there, but "it's out of our control."
"It's hard for Mike and I to be up here to do this, but you couldn't have kept me away from this with a shotgun," Hagar said.
It took less to keep Roth away. He stood up the hall, reportedly because he couldn't agree on what to sing with the band Velvet Revolver, which offered a tribute. Joel Peresman, president and CEO of the Hall of Fame, said Roth was offered a chance to sing a song of his choice with the house band. "The decision not to come was solely his, not ours."
Hagar and Anthony joined Velvet Revolver to sing "Why Can't This Be Love."
How funny is it that the only members of the band that showed up are guys that got kicked out of the band? Why wasn't Alex Van Halen there... I mean it would have been nice to have at least one REAL Van Halen there to accept the award. And who the hell invited Velvet Revolver to this debacle? Even more importantly why is Velvet Revolver being tapped to replace Van Halen on their recently cancelled tour? Is it really a good idea to replace a band that dropped out of a tour due to their leader being in rehab with a band whose singer is legendary for his addiction troubles and has his own wing at every rehab clinic in the country? Yes Scott Weiland I mean you... is Eddie really that much more messed up than Scott? YIKES!! Best bet is this tour will never happen...
Priceless
I don't even know what to say about this story but when I stop laughing (if I ever do) I'm sure I will think of something...
Ambassador Recalled Amid Lurid Report
Conduct Called 'Unbecoming of a Diplomat'
Reuters
JERUSALEM (March 12) - Israel has recalled its ambassador in El Salvador after he was found drunk and naked with sex toys lying nearby in the yard of his official residence, Israeli media reports said on Monday.
A foreign ministry spokeswoman confirmed that the ambassador, Tsuriel Raphael, was recalled but offered no details. "The ministry sees his behavior as unbecoming of a diplomat," the spokeswoman said.
Israeli media reported that local police found Raphael in the yard of the official residence in San Salvador. The reports said he was drunk, naked, and bound and gagged with a rubber ball in his mouth and sex toys lying near him.
The foreign ministry spokeswoman said the incident took place two weeks ago.
"As soon as the episode was brought to attention of the foreign ministry it reacted and the ambassador was recalled to Israel. He is going to remain in Israel," she said.
Israel would seek another ambassador in El Salvador, an Israeli official said.
Now there's a goodwill ambassador!! And what an act to follow... I feel bad for his replacement...
Ambassador Recalled Amid Lurid Report
Conduct Called 'Unbecoming of a Diplomat'
Reuters
JERUSALEM (March 12) - Israel has recalled its ambassador in El Salvador after he was found drunk and naked with sex toys lying nearby in the yard of his official residence, Israeli media reports said on Monday.
A foreign ministry spokeswoman confirmed that the ambassador, Tsuriel Raphael, was recalled but offered no details. "The ministry sees his behavior as unbecoming of a diplomat," the spokeswoman said.
Israeli media reported that local police found Raphael in the yard of the official residence in San Salvador. The reports said he was drunk, naked, and bound and gagged with a rubber ball in his mouth and sex toys lying near him.
The foreign ministry spokeswoman said the incident took place two weeks ago.
"As soon as the episode was brought to attention of the foreign ministry it reacted and the ambassador was recalled to Israel. He is going to remain in Israel," she said.
Israel would seek another ambassador in El Salvador, an Israeli official said.
Now there's a goodwill ambassador!! And what an act to follow... I feel bad for his replacement...
Bad Writing 101
Ok... so howzabout a little break from the Long Strange Trip for a quick example of the kind of stuff that I notice every day that drives me freaking nuts?
Richard Jeni committed suicide a couple of days ago - here is a small excerpt from Sandy Cohen's AP article about the suicide and autopsy:
LOS ANGELES - An autopsy was performed Monday on comic Richard Jeni but the cause of his death won't be known for several weeks, according to the Los Angeles County coroner's office. Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound. He was 49.
"It was reported to us as a possible suicide," coroner's Capt. Ed Winter said Monday. He did not disclose what kind of weapon was used.
Ok... let's dissect this tiny little excerpt shall we? First sentence tells us Jeni is dead but the cause of death won't be known for several weeks. The VERY NEXT SENTENCE reads "Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound."
Uhm... do you see where I am going with this? I don't know about you but my head is starting to hurt already... not as bad as Jeni's but still...
Next sentence informs us that it was not disclosed what kind of weapon was used in the reported/suspected suicide.
I'm guessing (just guessing here... I'm no Sherlock Holmes or anything...) that the cause of death might have had something to do with the huge hole in his face/head that resulted from the GUNSHOT WOUND referred to in the first paragraph of the report. And I'd be brave enough to take it one step further and bet that the undisclosed weapon involved might just have been a GUN (once again just a guess based on the aforementioned sentence reading "Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound").
It had also been reported that Jeni's girlfriend was cooking him breakfast when he shot himself (or shoved the bullet into his skull with a hammer or whatever happened since the weapon used hasn't been disclosed and thusly we shouldn't assume it was a gun... maybe he pulled a Macguyver kind of thing with a rubber band, a paper clip, a straw and the bullet - we don't know for sure apparently).
So these questions beg to be asked:
Was Richard Jeni's girlfriend's cooking so incredibly bad that he felt suicide was the only way out of eating her swill without hurting her feelings? And if so couldn't he have just taken her to Denny's or something?
Is the LA Coroner's Office full of morons who need weeks to figure out that the huge hole the guy put in his head with the undisclosed weapon is what killed him? Are they covering something up... is this another JFK kind of thing? Back and to the left... back and to the left... Was Macguyver involved and that's why they can't disclose what the weapon was?
Or maybe does Sandy Cohen know something the coroner's office doesn't? Is she psychic? Where exactly was Sandy at the time of the alleged suicide? Does she have a solid alibi? What was her relationship with Jeni and how does she know all these things that the coroner's office doesn't? Shouldn't someone be interrogating her about now? (I'm kidding of course... OR AM I????)
Most importantly isn't there supposed to be Editor's who read this kind of crappy writing and (after reassembling their head's because the horrible writing made them explode) smack the stupid writer upside their heads?
Am I the only one noticing this kind of stupid shit or what?
By the way and just for the record I liked Jeni's comedy and it sucks that he's gone... this world needs as much humor and laughter as possible and Jeni's departure from our world leaves a silent void where a thunderous laugh should be.
Richard Jeni committed suicide a couple of days ago - here is a small excerpt from Sandy Cohen's AP article about the suicide and autopsy:
LOS ANGELES - An autopsy was performed Monday on comic Richard Jeni but the cause of his death won't be known for several weeks, according to the Los Angeles County coroner's office. Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound. He was 49.
"It was reported to us as a possible suicide," coroner's Capt. Ed Winter said Monday. He did not disclose what kind of weapon was used.
Ok... let's dissect this tiny little excerpt shall we? First sentence tells us Jeni is dead but the cause of death won't be known for several weeks. The VERY NEXT SENTENCE reads "Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound."
Uhm... do you see where I am going with this? I don't know about you but my head is starting to hurt already... not as bad as Jeni's but still...
Next sentence informs us that it was not disclosed what kind of weapon was used in the reported/suspected suicide.
I'm guessing (just guessing here... I'm no Sherlock Holmes or anything...) that the cause of death might have had something to do with the huge hole in his face/head that resulted from the GUNSHOT WOUND referred to in the first paragraph of the report. And I'd be brave enough to take it one step further and bet that the undisclosed weapon involved might just have been a GUN (once again just a guess based on the aforementioned sentence reading "Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound").
It had also been reported that Jeni's girlfriend was cooking him breakfast when he shot himself (or shoved the bullet into his skull with a hammer or whatever happened since the weapon used hasn't been disclosed and thusly we shouldn't assume it was a gun... maybe he pulled a Macguyver kind of thing with a rubber band, a paper clip, a straw and the bullet - we don't know for sure apparently).
So these questions beg to be asked:
Was Richard Jeni's girlfriend's cooking so incredibly bad that he felt suicide was the only way out of eating her swill without hurting her feelings? And if so couldn't he have just taken her to Denny's or something?
Is the LA Coroner's Office full of morons who need weeks to figure out that the huge hole the guy put in his head with the undisclosed weapon is what killed him? Are they covering something up... is this another JFK kind of thing? Back and to the left... back and to the left... Was Macguyver involved and that's why they can't disclose what the weapon was?
Or maybe does Sandy Cohen know something the coroner's office doesn't? Is she psychic? Where exactly was Sandy at the time of the alleged suicide? Does she have a solid alibi? What was her relationship with Jeni and how does she know all these things that the coroner's office doesn't? Shouldn't someone be interrogating her about now? (I'm kidding of course... OR AM I????)
Most importantly isn't there supposed to be Editor's who read this kind of crappy writing and (after reassembling their head's because the horrible writing made them explode) smack the stupid writer upside their heads?
Am I the only one noticing this kind of stupid shit or what?
By the way and just for the record I liked Jeni's comedy and it sucks that he's gone... this world needs as much humor and laughter as possible and Jeni's departure from our world leaves a silent void where a thunderous laugh should be.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
The Long Cold Ugly 80's
So as the 70's came to a sad, whimpering end the world around us was changing drastically. Jimmy Carter admitted to having "sinned in his heart" in a Playboy Interview and was still elected President. That's how strongly the Nation had turned against the Republican Party. The mere idea of a Presidential Candidate giving an interview to Playboy magazine was fairly risky in a political sense but then to admit to "being a sinner" (even if only in his heart) should have been a death blow to his candidacy. But it wasn't. And for the record let me say I liked Carter and still do to this day. He was a good man who had the great misfortune to become President at a very bad moment in history. The Iran Hostage Crisis changed everything. Had President Carter's rescue mission been successful he would have been hailed as a hero and won re-election by a landslide and in all likelihood this country would be on a drastically different path than it is today. Unfortunately the rescue plan was doomed and so too was President Carter's chances at re-election as well as this country's hopes of becoming a shining beacon of democracy and freedom. The 80's were ushered in with the election of an aged ex-actor (and a bad one at that) Republican with strong ties to the Right Wing Conservative factions that would take control of Amerika's (no longer to be spelled with a C anymore) foreign and domestic policy the second Reagan took the Oath of Office.
Anyway... by the time the 80's had rolled around my father and brother were gone, leaving me and my mother alone. Dad would bring money by once a week for bills and groceries and such but otherwise was out of the picture despite the fact that he and my mother never legally separated. Mom had been in and out of the hospital but had more or less stabilized and had quit smoking for good. For a few years we had a relatively normal life. I graduated from high school in 1982 and since college wasn't really an option (both for financial reasons and the responsibility I had to take care of my mother) I began working. At the same time I had come out of the closet... well not exactly. You see, I had been in what I thought was a pretty discrete relationship with a boy I had met a year earlier. After about a year together he dumped me for my best friend - a girl I worked with. I was broken hearted having lost both my lover and best friend in one blow and fell into a deep depression. My mother called me into her room one day and flat out told me that she knew about me and my friend's relationship and wanted to know what happened. After telling her the whole story she had me call a friend from high school who was very obviously gay and asked him to show me where the gay bars were and get me laid. I kid you not. My mom was very very cool. Unfortunately, within 2 years her health declined to the point where she was hospitalized and put on a ventilator to help her breathe. She was in the hospital for several months and almost died a couple of times as we tried unsuccessfully to ween her from the ventilator. Her lungs were too far gone though and she spent the remainder of her life hooked to that machine. At that time it was unheard of for a patient on a ventilator to be taken care of at home due to the amount of attention and care vent patients required. I was told she would have to be placed in a nursing home and the only nursing home even remotely nearby was on the Eastern Shore of Maryland - a good 2 - 3 hours away. My mother and I both refused and gave the hospital folks two options - teach me how to care for her and arrange for supportive visiting nurses and let me take her home to live OR disconnect the ventilator and let me take her home to die. I spent the next couple of months learning how to suction the fluids from her lungs through the tracheotomy, monitor the machine settings and "bag" her with a hand held air pump in case the machine were to fail. Heavy stuff to be sure but I didn't even think about it that way really. I just wanted my mom home. My mom was one tough cookie. She survived until 1995 with the beeps and wooshing sounds of that machine her constant companion.
It was somewhere around this same time that I tested positive for HIV. By this time HIV was known about but still somewhat of an enigma - no one knew how it was transmitted and for the most part it was a death sentence. When I tested positive I was told my immune system was in pretty bad shape and the doctor's believed that I had contracted it several years prior to testing positive. I wasn't really all that surprised. I had been sexually active since my early teens and had done a little bit of stripping and hustling so the chances were pretty good the test was going to come back positive.
Well... I continued on this posting here and wrote a very long concise timetable of the events of the 80's but guess what?
I hit publish post and my post disappeared entirely. No auto save, no backup, no nothing. Again I say Blogger sucks ass sometimes. Too bad - I had some good quotes and original phrases in there that there is no way I will ever remember now.
Thanks Blogger you are a real pal.
Anyone know of a more reliable blog site that won't censor the fuck out of me?
Anyway... by the time the 80's had rolled around my father and brother were gone, leaving me and my mother alone. Dad would bring money by once a week for bills and groceries and such but otherwise was out of the picture despite the fact that he and my mother never legally separated. Mom had been in and out of the hospital but had more or less stabilized and had quit smoking for good. For a few years we had a relatively normal life. I graduated from high school in 1982 and since college wasn't really an option (both for financial reasons and the responsibility I had to take care of my mother) I began working. At the same time I had come out of the closet... well not exactly. You see, I had been in what I thought was a pretty discrete relationship with a boy I had met a year earlier. After about a year together he dumped me for my best friend - a girl I worked with. I was broken hearted having lost both my lover and best friend in one blow and fell into a deep depression. My mother called me into her room one day and flat out told me that she knew about me and my friend's relationship and wanted to know what happened. After telling her the whole story she had me call a friend from high school who was very obviously gay and asked him to show me where the gay bars were and get me laid. I kid you not. My mom was very very cool. Unfortunately, within 2 years her health declined to the point where she was hospitalized and put on a ventilator to help her breathe. She was in the hospital for several months and almost died a couple of times as we tried unsuccessfully to ween her from the ventilator. Her lungs were too far gone though and she spent the remainder of her life hooked to that machine. At that time it was unheard of for a patient on a ventilator to be taken care of at home due to the amount of attention and care vent patients required. I was told she would have to be placed in a nursing home and the only nursing home even remotely nearby was on the Eastern Shore of Maryland - a good 2 - 3 hours away. My mother and I both refused and gave the hospital folks two options - teach me how to care for her and arrange for supportive visiting nurses and let me take her home to live OR disconnect the ventilator and let me take her home to die. I spent the next couple of months learning how to suction the fluids from her lungs through the tracheotomy, monitor the machine settings and "bag" her with a hand held air pump in case the machine were to fail. Heavy stuff to be sure but I didn't even think about it that way really. I just wanted my mom home. My mom was one tough cookie. She survived until 1995 with the beeps and wooshing sounds of that machine her constant companion.
It was somewhere around this same time that I tested positive for HIV. By this time HIV was known about but still somewhat of an enigma - no one knew how it was transmitted and for the most part it was a death sentence. When I tested positive I was told my immune system was in pretty bad shape and the doctor's believed that I had contracted it several years prior to testing positive. I wasn't really all that surprised. I had been sexually active since my early teens and had done a little bit of stripping and hustling so the chances were pretty good the test was going to come back positive.
Well... I continued on this posting here and wrote a very long concise timetable of the events of the 80's but guess what?
I hit publish post and my post disappeared entirely. No auto save, no backup, no nothing. Again I say Blogger sucks ass sometimes. Too bad - I had some good quotes and original phrases in there that there is no way I will ever remember now.
Thanks Blogger you are a real pal.
Anyone know of a more reliable blog site that won't censor the fuck out of me?
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
The Trip (through the 70's)
Seeing as how the title of this here BLOG is "The Long Strange Trip" and my idea for this thing was to write down some sort of recollection of my life I figure maybe I should get to it. This is more certainly not a memoir or autobiography or anything so high and mighty as that - just my recollections of my life so far and maybe a form of cheap self-therapy. Then again maybe that's what a memoir or autobiography is really... so call this what you will. I call it a long, strange trip... and (hopefully anyway) I am a long way from the end.
So some of my first memories are of me with a little plastic pretend kiddy doctor's kit administering fake candy pills to my ill grandmother laying on the living room couch. It seemed as if she was always ill, at least in my memory. We lived with my mother's parents in their quiet home in Northwest Washington DC when I was a small child and as I said it seemed as if grandmother was always sick and I was always giving her fake candy remedies to cure her ills - I would use the term "I was playing doctor with my grandmother" but that conjures up some very sick imagery that some stupid ass would misconstrue so let's just not go there ok? Admittedly by saying that I have already taken you to that ugly place but now I can just use that term without any of the silly innuendo and stupid associated crap... ok? I PLAYED DOCTOR WITH MY GRANDMOTHER - there I said it. But not in a weird way ok? Anyway... I don't know if she actually ate the little candy pills I offered up but in retrospect this memory sets the tone for the direction of this long, strange trip that I call my life. I don't even know how sick my grandmother really was - I had been told when I was much older that grandmother (who had by now long since passed away) was a bit of a hypochondriac.
All of this had to have been around the time when I was 5 or maybe 6... sometime in the late 60's. I also remember how much I loved my grandfather - I can still remember scampering into his lap as he sat in his easy chair in the living room and he would give me one of the cherry throat lozenges he always seemed to have on hand. My grandfather, I am told, had a glorious tenor voice and sang in the choir at the church he attended in Georgetown. I guess that's why he always had those lozenges. In any case they were a treasured treat to me. I was told that I was my grandfather's favorite of the grandchildren by my mom - I don't know if that is so or not but I always felt like the apple of his eye. I don't recall him getting ill but he was hospitalized in late November or early December of 1970 with a blood clot I think. In any case I remember being pulled out of class on December 10 and being told that my grandfather had died and I would be staying with a family friend that night. Apparently my grandfather refused to use the bedpan and had gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom - the clot shook loose and went straight to his heart or brain or lung or wherever it is these things go to kill you. I do know that my mother was in the hospital cafeteria at the time it happened and heard the call of "Code Blue" over the loudspeaker - she rushed to the room only to arrive in time to see my Grandfather laying on the floor as the doctors tried unsuccessfully to revive him. I can't recall who told me he had died - maybe it was a school official or maybe my parent's came to pick me up and told me themselves. I just remember feeling very empty and lonely and helpless and worst of all, removed from my mother who I adored and who I knew adored her father and she was in pain that I couldn't do anything about. No amount of candy pills could ever fix this. I don't recall ever playing with my little fake doctor's kit again. Around this same time (maybe before maybe after I can't really recall) my mother's beloved dog Tinkerbell also died but that was just one more encounter with our new uninvited friend Death.
After my grandfather's death, my grandmother's health quickly declined and the family elected to have her placed in a nursing home... as is often the case with people who have been married to one another all their lives, she died within a year and a half of her husband. But still Mr. Death wasn't done with us. Two weeks after my grandmother's death came the high profile murder case of my mother's brother - my Uncle Corky Nalls. He was 17 years old when he was shot in the head by James Walburn, the father of the pregnant girlfriend Corky wanted to marry. The killer was captured a few days later at his rural cabin running around nude acting like a crazy man. Maybe he was crazy, I don't know. I only know that his actions drove the final stake into the heart of what remained of my family. The ensuing murder trial was big news for the next year or so in the local media and I have strange little memories of the trial itself. I had a very bad poison ivy infection that covered almost every inch of my body at one point (I don't know - maybe I was rolling around in it or something). It was so bad that I obviously couldn't go to school so my parents had to bring me along to the trial. I have vague memories of sitting in the court room as the trial unfolded... mostly it is a blank but I do have distinct memories of a chalk board on which the defense lawyer drew an overhead view of the crime scene (the front porch of the killer's home) and arguing that the killing was accidental. Yes he said the accused did have a rifle and was threatening my Uncle and telling him to stay away from his daughter and get off his property when he tripped over the leg of a rocking chair that was on the porch which caused the rifle to discharge. The shot hit him in the face. My poor Uncle staggered a few houses away where he collapsed and died in a pool of his own blood. Eyewitnesses had a different story as to how the murder happened. I don't remember their testimony - I may not have even been present for that but I do remember waiting in a room for the jury's decision with the family of the killer and our family crammed together in horrible, deafening silence. There we all were, his family and our family, all destroyed by a moment of rage. I can remember playing with one of the boys from the killer's family during the trial in the hallway - or maybe it was in the waiting room as we all sat with our lives in tatters all around us. We were too young to understand. Broken families, broken people, broken lives. But to two little kids the importance and gravity of this moment was lost - at least for the time. But the ripple effects of the event were far reaching and treacherous. For my family that was the final blow... the family home was sold (I presume to pay bills for my grandmother's care and funeral and my uncle's funeral and so forth). The family drifted apart and (I suppose) did their best to find ways to heal the wounds of the past couple of years or at least forget them. One of my Uncle's spent the majority of the remainder of his life in and out of mental institutions and addicted to drugs. The other spent his life doing his best to live a "normal" life with his family. My Aunt's moved away and my mom... well she just survived as best as she could. Her marriage fell apart and her health steadily declined until her death in 1995. She never really got over the events of those 18 months in early 1970/1971. I don't know much of what became of the killer and his family. He was convicted of murder but was released from prison after a few years because he allegedly had cancer or a heart condition or some such nonsense and only had a few months to live. I don't know what kind of strings he pulled to get out of jail but I know he lived for many years later, albeit without much dignity. My father once swore that he saw the killer picking through a garbage can in an alley in downtown Dc - homeless and broken. I don't know if that's true but it would be a fitting end to a miserable man's life. He had apparently done horrible things throughout his life and was suspected in the deaths of at least two of his family members - so who knows, maybe he was crazy. As to the rest of his family I don't know what became of them although I would guess they were as ruined by this tragedy as my family was. I don't recall ever seeing that little boy again. I feel as bad for them as I do for my own family - none of us asked for this to happen but all of our lives were changed by this one man's actions. A tough lesson for 2 little boys to have to learn. I wonder if he took from that experience the same lessons that I did...
The next few years of my life were more or less uneventful and average, relatively speaking. I did the typical kid things like playing baseball and soccer and theater stuff. For a few years I got to have a somewhat normal childhood. Well... if you take into account the fact that my father was an alcoholic and my parent's marriage was falling apart. They tried hard to fix the marriage and pull our little family unit together by doing things like weekend camping trips that more often than not turned out disastrous due to my father's drinking. Those trips didn't last though. The "gas crisis" made trips like those virtually unaffordable and even had that not been the case the truth was the camping trips did nothing to bring us closer together as a family. If anything it created more stress and friction. I can recall one Friday just before going camping my teacher telling the class that one of our classmates (and one of my best friends) had died overnight of kidney failure. We knew he had been sick for a while but still I was destroyed by the news. Fernando was a "little person" - a midget... maybe a dwarf. I don't really know - it wasn't important to me at that age - I just knew he was my friend and now he too was gone. And then I had to go camping with my broken family. It all seemed so futile to me at 10 or 11 years old. And that's pretty much how all of my memories of those camping trips are, which is really sad because I am sure that in reality there had to have been some wonderful adventures and fun that we had that was overshadowed by all the pain of the times we were going through. I wish I could go back and relive those times so that I can at least remember a few of the good times. But that isn't how life works... I just have to believe that those moments DID happen and they are burned into my brain somewhere on a subconscious level.
By this time I had dealt with the rapid loss of my grandparents, the murder of my uncle and the resulting trial, the loss of one of my best friends, the sudden death of my mother's sister's husband due to a massive heart attack on a golf course, and just for fun, being sexually molested by my father's father. I wasn't the only one - he got to pretty much all of the kids in the family before I ratted him out to my parents after he gave me a dollar to pull my pants down and let him touch my penis. I don't recall exactly what happened but I remember afterwards knowing that what he did was wrong and I should tell my mommy which I did. He was never allowed to be alone with the grandchildren again. Let me just say here that I don't think he was a bad man - I believe he had a mental illness and I always looked at it that way throughout my life. So you might expect that my life was overdue for some semblance of normalcy by this point. Ahh... once again that's not how life works. Life had other plans for me and far bigger challenges to overcome.
My parent's relationship continued to deteriorate and my brother continued to act out always getting into trouble (and trying to get every girl in sight pregnant to boot). By the time I was in my early teens my brother and father had both moved out of the house and my mother had been diagnosed with severe emphysema. Her lungs were like Swiss cheese from smoking since she was a teenager. She tried to quit but the strain of her marital problems led her back to her trusty crutch - the cigarette. She was on oxygen at home and her mobility became more and more limited due to her inability to breathe. Other than going to Bingo and the grocery store she was more or less home bound and I was left to care for her. I can remember the ordeal of coming home from school every day and getting off of the bus a block from my house. It was always such a long walk in my head because I was always thinking in the back of my mind that one day I would come home and find her dead or dying on the floor. This was, unfortunately a very real possibility and the reality I had to deal with on a daily basis. I can actually recall one night my mother turning blue before my eyes as I frantically called my dad to come take her to the hospital. She was hospitalized and one morning I received a call that my mother had gone into respiratory arrest and had stopped breathing several times overnight and that they had to resuscitate her and had put her on a ventilator and she was in critical condition. I was not prepared for what I saw when I arrived at her room. There on the hospital bed was my mother, horribly bloated, eyes open but more or less rolled back in her head with no focus and she was a strange grayish color. There was a large machine next to her bed bellowing out loud whooshing sounds with a tube leading from the machine to her mouth and down her throat. The tube was taped in place over her mouth and her hands were bound to the bed because she had tried repeatedly to remove the tube from her throat. I remember speaking softly to her telling her how she had given us all a scare and that I loved her but she was non-responsive. I left the room and collapsed in the ICU lobby. When I finally composed myself enough to speak to the doctor things only got worse. After my mother was diagnosed with emphysema she did try to quit but as I said cigarettes were her one crutch in life (she wasn't a drinker or drug taker) and the burden of the marital problems coupled with her health problems drove her right back to smoking. It was her only outlet. But since she was essentially housebound and didn't want my father to know she had started smoking again she had no way of getting cigarettes except to send her sons to the local pharmacy to get her fix for her. Eventually I think my brother refused to do it but I was never able to refuse my mother so I began making the pickups of the drug that was killing her. Somehow (I don't really remember how this came about) the doctor had caught wind of the fact that I had been supplying my mother with cigarettes. The end result being the doctor telling me that if my mother died it was my fault because I bought her the cigarettes. I was devastated to say the least and to this day those words still haunt me. And that... more or less... was the 70's for me. But the Long Strange Trip was just getting started...
So some of my first memories are of me with a little plastic pretend kiddy doctor's kit administering fake candy pills to my ill grandmother laying on the living room couch. It seemed as if she was always ill, at least in my memory. We lived with my mother's parents in their quiet home in Northwest Washington DC when I was a small child and as I said it seemed as if grandmother was always sick and I was always giving her fake candy remedies to cure her ills - I would use the term "I was playing doctor with my grandmother" but that conjures up some very sick imagery that some stupid ass would misconstrue so let's just not go there ok? Admittedly by saying that I have already taken you to that ugly place but now I can just use that term without any of the silly innuendo and stupid associated crap... ok? I PLAYED DOCTOR WITH MY GRANDMOTHER - there I said it. But not in a weird way ok? Anyway... I don't know if she actually ate the little candy pills I offered up but in retrospect this memory sets the tone for the direction of this long, strange trip that I call my life. I don't even know how sick my grandmother really was - I had been told when I was much older that grandmother (who had by now long since passed away) was a bit of a hypochondriac.
All of this had to have been around the time when I was 5 or maybe 6... sometime in the late 60's. I also remember how much I loved my grandfather - I can still remember scampering into his lap as he sat in his easy chair in the living room and he would give me one of the cherry throat lozenges he always seemed to have on hand. My grandfather, I am told, had a glorious tenor voice and sang in the choir at the church he attended in Georgetown. I guess that's why he always had those lozenges. In any case they were a treasured treat to me. I was told that I was my grandfather's favorite of the grandchildren by my mom - I don't know if that is so or not but I always felt like the apple of his eye. I don't recall him getting ill but he was hospitalized in late November or early December of 1970 with a blood clot I think. In any case I remember being pulled out of class on December 10 and being told that my grandfather had died and I would be staying with a family friend that night. Apparently my grandfather refused to use the bedpan and had gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom - the clot shook loose and went straight to his heart or brain or lung or wherever it is these things go to kill you. I do know that my mother was in the hospital cafeteria at the time it happened and heard the call of "Code Blue" over the loudspeaker - she rushed to the room only to arrive in time to see my Grandfather laying on the floor as the doctors tried unsuccessfully to revive him. I can't recall who told me he had died - maybe it was a school official or maybe my parent's came to pick me up and told me themselves. I just remember feeling very empty and lonely and helpless and worst of all, removed from my mother who I adored and who I knew adored her father and she was in pain that I couldn't do anything about. No amount of candy pills could ever fix this. I don't recall ever playing with my little fake doctor's kit again. Around this same time (maybe before maybe after I can't really recall) my mother's beloved dog Tinkerbell also died but that was just one more encounter with our new uninvited friend Death.
After my grandfather's death, my grandmother's health quickly declined and the family elected to have her placed in a nursing home... as is often the case with people who have been married to one another all their lives, she died within a year and a half of her husband. But still Mr. Death wasn't done with us. Two weeks after my grandmother's death came the high profile murder case of my mother's brother - my Uncle Corky Nalls. He was 17 years old when he was shot in the head by James Walburn, the father of the pregnant girlfriend Corky wanted to marry. The killer was captured a few days later at his rural cabin running around nude acting like a crazy man. Maybe he was crazy, I don't know. I only know that his actions drove the final stake into the heart of what remained of my family. The ensuing murder trial was big news for the next year or so in the local media and I have strange little memories of the trial itself. I had a very bad poison ivy infection that covered almost every inch of my body at one point (I don't know - maybe I was rolling around in it or something). It was so bad that I obviously couldn't go to school so my parents had to bring me along to the trial. I have vague memories of sitting in the court room as the trial unfolded... mostly it is a blank but I do have distinct memories of a chalk board on which the defense lawyer drew an overhead view of the crime scene (the front porch of the killer's home) and arguing that the killing was accidental. Yes he said the accused did have a rifle and was threatening my Uncle and telling him to stay away from his daughter and get off his property when he tripped over the leg of a rocking chair that was on the porch which caused the rifle to discharge. The shot hit him in the face. My poor Uncle staggered a few houses away where he collapsed and died in a pool of his own blood. Eyewitnesses had a different story as to how the murder happened. I don't remember their testimony - I may not have even been present for that but I do remember waiting in a room for the jury's decision with the family of the killer and our family crammed together in horrible, deafening silence. There we all were, his family and our family, all destroyed by a moment of rage. I can remember playing with one of the boys from the killer's family during the trial in the hallway - or maybe it was in the waiting room as we all sat with our lives in tatters all around us. We were too young to understand. Broken families, broken people, broken lives. But to two little kids the importance and gravity of this moment was lost - at least for the time. But the ripple effects of the event were far reaching and treacherous. For my family that was the final blow... the family home was sold (I presume to pay bills for my grandmother's care and funeral and my uncle's funeral and so forth). The family drifted apart and (I suppose) did their best to find ways to heal the wounds of the past couple of years or at least forget them. One of my Uncle's spent the majority of the remainder of his life in and out of mental institutions and addicted to drugs. The other spent his life doing his best to live a "normal" life with his family. My Aunt's moved away and my mom... well she just survived as best as she could. Her marriage fell apart and her health steadily declined until her death in 1995. She never really got over the events of those 18 months in early 1970/1971. I don't know much of what became of the killer and his family. He was convicted of murder but was released from prison after a few years because he allegedly had cancer or a heart condition or some such nonsense and only had a few months to live. I don't know what kind of strings he pulled to get out of jail but I know he lived for many years later, albeit without much dignity. My father once swore that he saw the killer picking through a garbage can in an alley in downtown Dc - homeless and broken. I don't know if that's true but it would be a fitting end to a miserable man's life. He had apparently done horrible things throughout his life and was suspected in the deaths of at least two of his family members - so who knows, maybe he was crazy. As to the rest of his family I don't know what became of them although I would guess they were as ruined by this tragedy as my family was. I don't recall ever seeing that little boy again. I feel as bad for them as I do for my own family - none of us asked for this to happen but all of our lives were changed by this one man's actions. A tough lesson for 2 little boys to have to learn. I wonder if he took from that experience the same lessons that I did...
The next few years of my life were more or less uneventful and average, relatively speaking. I did the typical kid things like playing baseball and soccer and theater stuff. For a few years I got to have a somewhat normal childhood. Well... if you take into account the fact that my father was an alcoholic and my parent's marriage was falling apart. They tried hard to fix the marriage and pull our little family unit together by doing things like weekend camping trips that more often than not turned out disastrous due to my father's drinking. Those trips didn't last though. The "gas crisis" made trips like those virtually unaffordable and even had that not been the case the truth was the camping trips did nothing to bring us closer together as a family. If anything it created more stress and friction. I can recall one Friday just before going camping my teacher telling the class that one of our classmates (and one of my best friends) had died overnight of kidney failure. We knew he had been sick for a while but still I was destroyed by the news. Fernando was a "little person" - a midget... maybe a dwarf. I don't really know - it wasn't important to me at that age - I just knew he was my friend and now he too was gone. And then I had to go camping with my broken family. It all seemed so futile to me at 10 or 11 years old. And that's pretty much how all of my memories of those camping trips are, which is really sad because I am sure that in reality there had to have been some wonderful adventures and fun that we had that was overshadowed by all the pain of the times we were going through. I wish I could go back and relive those times so that I can at least remember a few of the good times. But that isn't how life works... I just have to believe that those moments DID happen and they are burned into my brain somewhere on a subconscious level.
By this time I had dealt with the rapid loss of my grandparents, the murder of my uncle and the resulting trial, the loss of one of my best friends, the sudden death of my mother's sister's husband due to a massive heart attack on a golf course, and just for fun, being sexually molested by my father's father. I wasn't the only one - he got to pretty much all of the kids in the family before I ratted him out to my parents after he gave me a dollar to pull my pants down and let him touch my penis. I don't recall exactly what happened but I remember afterwards knowing that what he did was wrong and I should tell my mommy which I did. He was never allowed to be alone with the grandchildren again. Let me just say here that I don't think he was a bad man - I believe he had a mental illness and I always looked at it that way throughout my life. So you might expect that my life was overdue for some semblance of normalcy by this point. Ahh... once again that's not how life works. Life had other plans for me and far bigger challenges to overcome.
My parent's relationship continued to deteriorate and my brother continued to act out always getting into trouble (and trying to get every girl in sight pregnant to boot). By the time I was in my early teens my brother and father had both moved out of the house and my mother had been diagnosed with severe emphysema. Her lungs were like Swiss cheese from smoking since she was a teenager. She tried to quit but the strain of her marital problems led her back to her trusty crutch - the cigarette. She was on oxygen at home and her mobility became more and more limited due to her inability to breathe. Other than going to Bingo and the grocery store she was more or less home bound and I was left to care for her. I can remember the ordeal of coming home from school every day and getting off of the bus a block from my house. It was always such a long walk in my head because I was always thinking in the back of my mind that one day I would come home and find her dead or dying on the floor. This was, unfortunately a very real possibility and the reality I had to deal with on a daily basis. I can actually recall one night my mother turning blue before my eyes as I frantically called my dad to come take her to the hospital. She was hospitalized and one morning I received a call that my mother had gone into respiratory arrest and had stopped breathing several times overnight and that they had to resuscitate her and had put her on a ventilator and she was in critical condition. I was not prepared for what I saw when I arrived at her room. There on the hospital bed was my mother, horribly bloated, eyes open but more or less rolled back in her head with no focus and she was a strange grayish color. There was a large machine next to her bed bellowing out loud whooshing sounds with a tube leading from the machine to her mouth and down her throat. The tube was taped in place over her mouth and her hands were bound to the bed because she had tried repeatedly to remove the tube from her throat. I remember speaking softly to her telling her how she had given us all a scare and that I loved her but she was non-responsive. I left the room and collapsed in the ICU lobby. When I finally composed myself enough to speak to the doctor things only got worse. After my mother was diagnosed with emphysema she did try to quit but as I said cigarettes were her one crutch in life (she wasn't a drinker or drug taker) and the burden of the marital problems coupled with her health problems drove her right back to smoking. It was her only outlet. But since she was essentially housebound and didn't want my father to know she had started smoking again she had no way of getting cigarettes except to send her sons to the local pharmacy to get her fix for her. Eventually I think my brother refused to do it but I was never able to refuse my mother so I began making the pickups of the drug that was killing her. Somehow (I don't really remember how this came about) the doctor had caught wind of the fact that I had been supplying my mother with cigarettes. The end result being the doctor telling me that if my mother died it was my fault because I bought her the cigarettes. I was devastated to say the least and to this day those words still haunt me. And that... more or less... was the 70's for me. But the Long Strange Trip was just getting started...
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