They told me I was going to lose the fight

I got exactly one thing done this weekend.  One.  I fiddle farted around with a bunch of things but only one got finished.  I was pretty much numb and sleep walking up until I gave blood yesterday and then I came back to life.

I went out onto the healthcare marketplace and bought insurance.  And it was no big deal.  It took about 10 minutes.  The hardest part was figuring out that the system didn’t like Chrome and wanted Safari.  Once I got through that it was no big deal.  It worked smoothly like any other website.  Well almost any.

Because with all of the hullabaloo about how difficult everything was, it wasn’t hard at all.  I got the perfect policy for me.  I don’t have to screw around with any of that 20%, 30%, 40%, 50%, 60%, 70% bullshit.  My policy is simple.  I pay $6350 out of pocket and then it goes to 100%.  And I get three visits per year for free.  So if I get hit by a car, I have it will cost me $6350.  I get some shitty disease, it will cost me $6350.  If I keep rolling like I’ve been rolling, it costs me the premiums and that’s it.

Now I would prefer that this was built into the tax system and I could just go to any Dr. and get fixed like it was in Germany and Italy, but because a bunch of dumbasses that haven’t ever gone more than 50 miles from their birthplace don’t get it, that’s not on the table.  This makes Obama the worst socialist ever.

I just want to point out to all of those people who acted like every website should work perfectly every time that The Brother will be here in California for my birthday this year.  He didn’t want to be.  He got up at 2:30 in the morning to buy Kate Bush tickets.  She is performing in London for the first time in freaking forever.  35 years.  That’s freaking forever.  He had tickets in his queue and while they system was verifying his credit card, the website locked up, threw him out and the 22 shows, 77,000 tickets sold out from under him.

So all of you asshats complaining about the healthcare websites, you can log back in and get health insurance.  Kate Bush is still sold out.  Maybe.  Bookies have her at 5/2 that she adds shows outside of London.

But here I am in prison

I feel like a drunken Irish folk song is in order.

I certainly got punched in the gut today. Quite honestly, this one is as bad as Beauregard.


Norman and his legendary lick granulomas.  Everyone that met him had a solution for his lick granulomas.  Put this on it, do that, isn’t there something you can do?  Dr. Johnson said I would never solve them and I didn’t.  He died with two bloody hocks.  Bloody from his own incessant licking.

I had recently done some reading up on them.  I thought if I got a deal ahead I would take him to UC Davis to have the laser treatment, the only thing known to work, but that day never came.

Norman had been a little slow to get up for the last couple of weeks and had been giving me some crap about getting off the couch at night, going outside, getting in his crate.  Dinner was the only thing he got up for without giving me any crap.

I took him into the vet today.  He got to the scale and collapsed.  I was sure he was working it for his SAG card putting on the performance of his life, but in truth he held on as long as he could, and collapsed at the vet’s office.


The tumor was larger than his heart.  If you met Norman, you know that his heart was enormous.  That dog had the heart of a lion, but it was also a heart of gold.  And the tumor was bigger.  It pressed against his lung nearly collapsing the lung.  It pushed through his ribs making them look like an accident victim’s X-ray.  And his rib bones were compromised.  And like Beauregard, and Miss Cleo and Ike and Xica, there was nothing for me to do.  I asked how long he had and she said that she could load him up with pain meds and I could take him home for the night.  I wouldn’t do that to him.  I let him go.

Big man, you weren’t supposed to stay here.  You hated my brother until he found a package of turkey franks.  Then you sold you soul to him.  I loved you for that.  You took it upon yourself to protect me from all comers.  You were a good dog.  You always came to check on me.  And you were a bit of prankster.  You spilled coffee all over me yesterday.  I was pissed at you at the time.  Now I wish you would spill this beer on me.

Godspeed my handsome man, I am going to miss you.

We did the monster mash

I kind of love that the guy whose name I did not mention also had his name not mentioned by Rachel Maddow.  And I thought I was so freaking clever.


As well it should.

Then there is this little gem which just makes me smile.

Part of me is sick of youtube cutesy pranks but this one is clever.  Some of the other ones are just stupid.  This one is not stupid.

And I have to say the news is pretty amusing to me right now.

CNN spent about 10 days being all about the missing plane while Fox News continued to “report” on Obamacare and I can’t remember the other fake controversy irrelevant thing they were talking about.  The minute it looked like there might be a terrorist link to the flight they were on it like stink on…well, they’re just stink so let’s leave it at that.

A night flight, how would you know the pilots changed course, and off you go into the wild blue yonder, forever.  Scary shit.

King Nothing

Bad people die every day in this world.  This week a really bad man died.  Good riddance.

While part of me would like to see a protest of such a magnitude that the march on Washington would be dwarfed, a bigger part of me says the most poignant thing that can be done is nothing.  Not give him any ink.  Not say his name.  And not protest his funeral if there is one.  There are reports that there will be no funeral.  What a bunch of pussies.

Because he is not worth the gasoline to drive there.  He is not worth the time off work.  He is not worth the time at all.  He is not worth the keystrokes I type out right now.  And his afterlife is not going the way he thought it would.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” ~Martin Luther King Jr.

A doleful damsel I heard cry

One of my biggest fears came to fruition for 239 people over the China Sea on Friday.  You have no idea how much I have to steel myself to get on an airplane any more.  It’s kind of amazing that this world is so big and so small all at the same time.  It’s hard to get away with anything with all of the surveillance cameras and cell phones and GPS and everything else.  But drop a 777 in the China Sea and poof!  It’s gone!

The last time something like this happened Air France dumped one into the drink.  And they screwed up and dumped it in the drink.  That shit scares the hell out of me.  It’s easy to blame the pilots and it was pilot error, the reporter says “He’s on 32 years old” her voice dripping with judgement.  The last words were the Captain asking “but what’s going on?”  He had 11,000 flight hours.  The 32 year old first officer had 2900 flight hours.  He didn’t make the right decision but I think a hero is a hero and Bonin wasn’t.  And the flight went down.

That’s the thing.  How do you if there is a Sully or a Bonin in your cockpit?  99% of the time it just doesn’t matter, but in the oft chance it does…it matters.

The thing is, where that plane went down was such a rugged place in the ocean that it took over two years to find it all.  The underwater mountains were so severe that sonar was useless.

The idea of a watery grave is a little freaky to me.  I’d like to think I’m long gone and can watch from somewhere else by then.  So yeah, the lost Malaysia flight makes me itchy.  And sad for the families who probably have at least several months in front of them of waiting for their loved ones to be recovered.