Recent Comments

2014 August

Does a Rush by any other name sound as sweet?

public-domain-images-archive-high-quality-resolution-free-download-splitshire-0003-339418451Assume, assume, assume.
One would think someone of my wisdom, (sounds better than someone my age) would have learned better than to assume. I was running late and of course that would be the time that my car, at that time a 1999 Saturn, word not crank. That’s ok, I hear you snickering out there. I believe to this day that Saturn went out of business because their cars never really died. That was the most reliable and only new car I ever owned. I had it almost 15 years and only got rid of it for a “bucket list” car. Back to our story. One of the very few times my car breaks down on me I’m late for an important Dr.s appointment and I was very frustrated. I called AAA and they said they’d send someone out ASAP. Sure enough shortly after my call here comes the tow truck. The guy got out to hitch up my car. The guy looked like a dude. You know, t-shirt, blue jeans work boots. We chatted as he was doing his thing. I was going to ride with him to the car place, drop my car and get a rental. Everything was chained up and safe and I go to crawl in to his truck. He was in the act of turning his console off explaining “I know not everyone cares for Rush so I’ll turn it down”. After the morning I had had I thought a good dose of Prog Rock would do me good. I told him, “No, please don’t turn that off on my behalf, I love Rush”. He smiled said “cool” and turned the radio back on. Well indeed, Rush it was. Rush, Fucking, Limbaugh. Really. And I thought my morning had been bad up to that point.
Assume, assume, assume.



Shitting Briquettes.

Shitting Briquettes.

I awoke today to the news that Robin Williams died, but he really didn’t die now, did he? He took his own life. He killed himself. Is a suicide more or less tragic than a natural causes death? How about death from an accident, or a murder? I do believe almost all passing to be tragic. I say almost because I am a firm believer in euthanasia for terminally ill people. What kind of society are we that we won’t let our pets suffer, we take them to the vet where they get a shot that allows them to go to sleep. We will let our people rot, bedridden, robbed of their pride and modesty and get hidden away in a “Retirement Village”. I find suicide to be particularly sad. I will admit some of this is selfish as I have been there. I didn’t just cry because Robin Williams robbed us of his genius, I cried because his life had become so hard, so sad, and so bleak that he just couldn’t do it anymore. He was tired and saw no future. I have lost friends due to suicide and had a sister, who was bipolar, attempt suicide many times. I am sharing with you something that very few people know about me and that is,  I not only considered suicide, I attempted it and was almost there. If friends hadn’t called 911 in time I would not be boring you now. I once called a friend from my bathroom, as I was speaking with her I had a razor blade in my hand. I had cried so hard I literally cried my contact lenses out of my eyes. I haven’t seen this girl, now woman, for years and I’ll bet she’ll never know she saved me that night. The more successful attempt landed me in the ER with a belly full of alcohol and prescriptions. I actually remember very little of that night although I do remember waking up the next day in the hospital. My cheeks burned with embarrassment at my foolishness. My mouth was black with charcoal, the tell tale signs of a stomach pump. I just wanted to leave. I didn’t want to be there. The nurse came in and looked at me with open disdain. I told her, quite vehemently, I wanted to leave. She muttered “Well I knew this would happen”. She said I could not leave. I asked if at least they could help me just sleep. I believe she knew that I was going to be a huge pain in the ass so she gave me an injection and I slept. The doctor I worked for found out of my attempted suicide so he fired me, because you know the best and kindest thing you can do for a suicidal person is to fire them. Asshole, with a capital A. The only other 2 things I will tell you about that time is that I was lucky my neurologist had a crush on me and I was able to talk him out of a 72 hour hold, I found out I was one of many as he almost lost his license for being quite the Romeo. The second thing I will let you in on is this, after you have your stomach pumped and charcoal has been forced down your throat, is that you will shit charcoal black for a few days. Looking back, I understand the nurses disdain. This woman worked every day with people who were dying, children who were dying, and here I was trying to give away what so many others were fighting so hard for. She, like many people, view suicide as a selfish, cowardly act. I know what it feels like on the other end. The helpless, hopelessness. You don’t see anything good. It’s a horrid, tortuous feeling. I’ve had much physical pain in my life and none will ever compete or compare to that soul sucking, dark black hole of nothing. Robin gave us many laughs and some soul baring, beautiful acting. I believe Robin gave us so much it left him empty. RIP Mr. Williams and Thank you for sharing.

What makes a good relationship?

Apparently I have no fucking idea as Every, Single, Relationship I’ve ever had has been one Titanic disaster after another. Go ask your shrink. What the fuck you want from me?

Admit it, I was right!

Admit it, I was right!

I once worked for a chiropractor who had pock marked skin, a voice that can best be described as something Seth MacFarlane dreamed up and of course the God complex that so many of his kind are afflicted with. He was a class A asshole who was a witness to a car accident that I was in, that he treated me for, billed me (the insurance company) for and just to prove what a great guy he was he fired me because I attempted suicide. He still got his money but he will have to deal with that butt ugly,pock marked face and that ridiculous cartoon voice. We all know most doctors don’t have souls, more, oh so more on that later. Before my accident I worked with his sister at a part time kinda thing where we would sell flowers at the amphitheater during concerts. We sold roses for $5 a stem, all thorns taken off and placed into one of those little water tubes with a rubber stopper top. His sister, who we’ll call Cunt, would buy the roses from the flower market at about $1 a stem and I would come to her apartment help clean and place roses in the receptacle and I would make a $1.50 profit on each rose I sold. At this time in my life I had a sick body and long legs, I still have the long legs, the rest-ehhh..I’d wear a black,tight fitting dress with a slit up up to there and sandles. The money was good if it was an older, smoother crowd. I made a fortune during the Moody Blues. It was especially great if a drunk dude would come up and buy a rose for me, it was like “Thank you baby, I’ll look at it all night and think of you” and then I resold it. I know. More profits! Yeah!

One day Cunt, old pock faces sister, called me and said to meet her at this bar up the street from her apartment and we could have a few drinks before we went to her place to clean and dethorn the roses. Over a few beers and some chit chat we got on the subject of men. She was whining about her (many) failed relationships and I told her, point blank, “If there is a loser within a mile he will come to me like the Wiseman to Jesus”. She laughed, apparently being unaware of my powerful dirtbag pheromones.  She excused herself to go to the bathroom, she seemed to have a small bladder considering she was a cunt. When said cunt returned to our table, in less than five minutes, she was surprised to find a gentleman had availed himself of our table and was conversing, NOT conversating, with me.  When she sat down this gentleman, who was short a few teeth, informed her that he “would love to play a song for me on the jukebox but I would need to accompany him as he could not read”. I realize that illiteracy is not a joke but I do consider it a big plus in a relationship. I wished I’d have made a bet of some sort.  Admit it, I was right. In record time no less.


The Very Best Reason To Adopt Shelter Animal.



Do I REALLY need to say more? Yes he’s mine. You may kiss his nose.