You Like Me

You like me.

I Farted

 
I farted.

Woman Stung by Scorpion on Plane in LA

 
From the NY Times (2/15/15)-

LOS ANGELES — A scorpion stung a woman on the hand just before her flight from Los Angeles to Portland took off.

Flight 567 was taxiing on the runway Saturday night when the passenger was stung, Alaska Airlines spokesman Cole Cosgrove said. The plane returned to the gate, and the woman was checked by medics. She refused additional medical treatment, but she didn't get back on the plane.

The woman stomped the scorpion to death, and flight attendants checked overhead compartments for any additional unwanted arachnids, Cosgrove said. It's unclear how the scorpion got on the plane, but the flight originated in Los Cabos, Mexico, where scorpions are common, he said.

The flight then took off at 8:40 p.m., about an hour late.

Members of Oregon State University's men's basketball team were on the flight, Cosgrove said.

Oregon State Coach Wayne Tinkle told ESPN that the woman was sitting two rows in front of him.

"The woman was a real champ," Tinkle said. "She acted like it was a mosquito bite. They got it off her, but the needle was stuck."

I'm Dead

 
I'm dead.

Wham, Bam, NO Thank You, Ma'am!

This is not my car, and it's not that bad.

I'm a good driver.  I take driving very seriously.  I know it's dangerous, and it kills thousands of people every year.  Cars kill animals too.  That's why I try to not speed.  The faster I'm going, the less time I'll have to avoid hitting an animal or another car.  I don't use the phone while driving.  I don't eat while driving.  I wouldn't load a CD into the car stereo while driving.
Regardless, I was involved in a car accident a week ago.  I wasn't speeding.  My car was doing about 30 MPH as I was getting ready to stop at a red light.  Suddenly, a car attempted to make a left turn right in front of my car.  I hit the brakes, but I couldn't stop my car from hitting hers.  What she did was completely irresponsible.  She must not have looked to see if any cars were coming before attempting that turn, or she would have seen mine.  Her excuse was that another driver told her she could make the turn.  That is no excuse.  Another driver tells you that you can make a turn, so that's your cue to put a blindfold on and do it?  The more I think about it, the more angry I become.  Her timing was unbelievable.  It was almost as though she was trying to cause an accident.  She turned right in front of me, and I didn't have time, or distance, to avoid hitting her vehicle.
I hadn't been in an accident since I was a teenager, so I didn't even know exactly what to do.  I knew I needed to get her insurance info, but I wanted the police to be involved.  Someone, in an apartment across the street, said that she saw the accident.  I asked her to call the police.  Amazingly, the other driver started yelling about how she wasn''t trying to flee the scene.
I said to her, "I don't know what you're yelling about." I also said, "This is 100% your fault," to her, and she agreed with me.
I flagged a police officer down.  He wrote up a report.  He had some issue with the other driver, to which she responded, "My lawyer said I was good to go."  After a little while, I was allowed to leave, but she had to stay.  She was in some kind of trouble with the officer.
I had a weird day this week.  I found out that, aside from back pain, a hernia, OCD, and depression, I'm otherwise pretty healthy.  In the same day, I found out my car is a total loss.  The damage doesn't look that bad.  A headlight was smashed.  The left front corner of the car was smashed in.  I can't get the hood up.  I have to squeeze into the car, because the door doesn't open all the way now.  But this woman did at least $3700 in damage to my car, which is more than it's worth.  I've been dealing with the other driver's insurance company, which hasn't been fun.  They just sent me a nasty letter, which pisses me off, because I'm an innocent victim here.  I don't need any of this crap.  They haven't acknowledged it's her fault yet.  Meanwhile, I called my insurance company, and the woman I spoke to immediately said it was obvious it was her fault, because she made a turn when it wasn't safe to do so.  So far, this experience has been another example of how life isn't fair.     

Alone Again

 
"Alone Again" (Dokken song)

I'd like to see you in the morning light
I like to feel you when it comes to night
Now I'm here and I'm all alone
Still I know how it feels, I'm alone again

Tried so hard to make you see
But I couldn't find the words
Now the tears, they fall like rain
I'm alone again without you
Alone again without you
Alone again without you

I said stay, but you turned away
Tried to say that it was me
Now I'm here and I've lost my way
Still I know how it feels, I'm alone again

Tried so hard to make you see
But I couldn't find the words
Now the tears, they fall like rain
I'm alone again without you

I tried so hard to make you see
But I couldn't find the words
Now the tears, they fall like rain
I'm alone again without you

Ball and Chain

 
"Ball And Chain" (Social Distortion song)

Well it's been ten years and a thousand tears
And look at the mess I'm in
A broken nose and a broken heart,
An empty bottle of gin
Well I sit and I pray
In my broken down Chevrolet
While I'm singin' to myself
There's got to be another way

[Chorus:]
Take away, take away
Take away this ball and chain
Well I'm lonely and I'm tired
And I can't take any more pain
Take away, take away
Never to return again
Take away, take away
Take away
Take away this ball and chain

Well I've searched and I've searched
To find the perfect life
A brand new car and a brand new suit
I even got me a little wife
But wherever I have gone
I was sure to find myself there
You can run all your life
But not go anywhere

[Chorus:]
Take away, take away
Take away this ball and chain
Well I'm sick and I'm tired
And I can't take any more pain
Take away, take away
Never to return again
Take away, take away
Take away
Take away this ball and chain

Well I'll pass the bar on the way
To my dingy hotel room
I spent all my money
I've been drinkin' since half past noon
Well I'll wake there in the mornin'
Or maybe in the county jail
Times are hard getting harder
I'm born to lose and destined to fail

[Chorus:]
Take away, take away
Take away this ball and chain
Well I'm lonely and I'm tired
And I can't take any more pain
Take away, take away
Never to return again
Take away, take away
Take away
Take away this ball and chain

I'm Real

I'm the realest person I ever met.  It's not east being real.  Someone tries to make me laugh, I don't, and then I'm a jerk.  Most people will let the fake laughter flow to avoid awkwardness: not me.  I can't go along with this believing in god stuff.  I could just lie, say I believe in god and love Jesus, and then I'd be a part of this huge club.  But I refuse to lie about it.  I have depression.  I'm on antidepressants, but I don't think they are working any wonders for me.  I'm still depressed.  I had a scary thought.  Is there an antidepressant that exists that is strong enough to fool me into thinking that life doesn't suck?  I doubt it.  Everyday, I think about life.  Everyday I think that life sucks.  It  has been a lifelong study.  I keep coming to the same conclusion.
Being as real as I am can hurt your employment situation.  What if my boss tries to make me laugh, but I don't?  If he gets the chance, he might replace me with a fake laugher.  I've thought, plenty of times, "They aren't paying me nearly enough money to laugh at this bozo's jokes."  Obviously, being this real isn't good for making, and keeping, friends.  I'm currently not speaking to my best (human) friend.  I feel as though I've taken a ton of crap from him.  I don't even really understand friendship.  If I don't feel like calling someone, I won't.
I haven't been able to stop drinking.  I've been trying to drink less.  I just get so bored of being sober.  I don't care if it's bad for my health.  I don't want to live to be 100.  I'm not looking forward to my mind and body deteriorating (further than they already have).  That's what old age is: coming undone.  I took a DVD out from the library and popped it into the DVD player.  I had seen it before.  That's not the only time that happened.  That's a "senile" type of thing to do.  I'm losing my marbles, and there is no keeping them.
At this point, I no longer live for myself.  I don't want to live.  But I want to change the world, which is hard to do when you're dead.  I want to improve things for animals: especially those living under the cruel thumb of humans.  I want to convince people to adopt kids that already need a home instead of bringing more into the world.  At least I have 2 good reasons to live.       

Pain

Pain in my brain
Pain in my heart
Pain in my hernia
Pain in my knees
Pain in my back
Pain in my soul
Pain in my soles
Pain in my stomach
Pain in my head
Pain in my legs
Pain in my hands
Pain in my life
Pain in my liver
Pain in my throat
Pain in my feet
Pain in my ankles
Pain in my lungs
Pain in my pancreas
Pain in my gall bladder
Pain in my rectum
Pain in my neck

Pain in my ass

Mind Alive

 
My mind is alive today.  I spent yesterday with my closest human friend (My friends consist of dogs, cats, and squirrels as well.).  He is a biological parent.  I finally told him my true feelings about biological parenthood.  I think it is "messed-up" (edited) for people to bring other people, and animals, into this brutal world.  This resulted in a spirited discussion.  My friend, who I'll call Herb, is an intense debater.  If he disagrees with something I said, he'll tell me.  He disagreed with the statement I made.  He said that he thinks "virtually everyone" is happy.  Now I disagree with that statement vehemently.  Just take a look at the suicide rate.  Suicide is consistently a leading cause of death worldwide.  Forgive me if you're aware I've written this here before, but it's only one sentence, and I think it bears repeating.  The American media, by and large, does not report suicides (with the obvious exceptions of stars like Kurt Cobain and Robin Williams), because the CDC has asked them not to.  Why?  Because when the media reports suicides, it leads to more (copycat) suicides. 
Forgive me, I believe I'm currently experiencing hypomania, which has been redlined here (and "redlined" too, but I'll use it anyway), but The New York Times uses this word, and if it's good enough for them, it's good enough for me.  I'm irritable.  I think it's becasue I smoked with Herb yesterday.  According to him, he and "virtually" everyone else are happy as clams (Which is a good one.  Do you think clams are happy?  I don't.), but, as he himself has admitted, he self medicates.
When I told Herb how I feel, and he disagreed, and I admitted my philosophies are based on my own experiences, his response was predictable: "Boo-freaking-hoo. (edited)"  I'm a cry baby.  I'm a whiner.  I'm not afraid to be called a whiner.  I used to be a whiner, then I realized that nobody gave a damn, because everyone has their own problems to deal with.  So I stopped being a whiner.  But I recently thought that "Don't be a whiner." is just a way for the insanity to continue.   "I'm miserable, my life isn't going the way I want it to, but I won't whine about it.  Then I'll bring one or more people into the world, and if they're miserable, I'll tell them to stop whining."  And the vicious cycle continues.
Herb also said that people aren't gonna wanna hang out with someone who thinks that life sucks.  That's understandable, but it's more important to me to be REAL.            

Got to Give It Up

 
I haven't been posting much original stuff here lately.  It seems like my page views took a nose dive when I shared my thoughts about god and religion.  People will be offended by my thoughts on this subject, but I'm likewise offended when a Christian says that anyone who hasn't accepted Jesus as their lord and savior is going to burn in hell.
I had a very uncomfortable psychiatrist appointment this week.  As usual, I met with her and the director of the mental health place I've been going to for a while now.  The appointment was going the way it usually does, when the director asked if I'd gained weight.  I admitted I had.  They began to interrogate me about the weight gain.  I was asked if I still exercise.  The answer was yes.  Then I was asked if I drink.  The answer was yes.  How much?  About 5 times a week.  This is where the mood in the room changed.  How much do you drink?  I had to do a little math in my head, because I usually drink vodka, and I measure out 1 ounce of it into each drink, which is 2/3 of a shot.  I answered that I drink about 5 drinks a day (5 times a week) or more.  The mood really got dark from that point on.  After all, it was clear that I was a fat drunk: definitely not the best day of my life.  Both of them stopped smiling and looked very concerned.  Then it was established that I've been drinking like this the entire time I've been on Prozac.  I was told that the combination of Prozac and the alcohol I'd been drinking wasn't good for my health.  They are concerned about my liver.  I need to see a doctor and get my blood tested.  It was also established that my friend thinks I'm annoying when I drink too much, and I black out regularly.  I was told these are enough good reasons to quit.  I was asked about other drugs.  I admitted to smoking weed a few times a month.  They seemed to be much more concerned about the alcohol.  I asked if I could finish what I had left: 4 beers and less than 1 bottle of vodka.  I was told I should pour it out.  I probably won't do that.  I plan to give it to a friend.
I haven't drank any alcohol since that meeting, which was 2 days ago.  I want to quit.  I'm much more likely to feel better the day after not drinking than if I had drank.  I don't like going to the liquor store.  I think liquor stores are evil places.  When someone goes into business manufacturing alcohol, or they sell it in stores, they are, in my opinion, involved in evil activities.  People drink themselves to death.  People drink and drive and kill others as a result.  People get drunk and become violent.  I'm hoping I can quit.  Unfortunately, alcohol is everywhere.
These are lyrics to a song by the great Thin Lizzy that are applicable:

       "Got To Give It Up"

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

Tell my mama and tell my pa
That their fine young son didn't get far
He made it to the end of a bottle
Sitting in a sleazy bar

He tried hard but his spirit broke
He tried until he nearly choked
In the end he lost his
Bottle drinking alcohol

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

Tell my brother I tried to write and
Put pen to paper but I was frightened
I couldn't seem to get the words out right
Right quite right

Tell my sister I'm sinking slow
Now and again I powder my nose
In the end I lost my bottle
It smashed in a casbah

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

I've been messing with the heavy stuff
For a time I couldn't get enough
But I'm waking up and it's wearing off
Junk don't take you far

Tell my Mama I'm coming home
In my youth I'm getting older
And I think it's lost control
Mama I'm coming home

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff