sapphoq n friends

It amused me

2012-01-27T02:49:00.000-05:00

You know you're down on your luck when...

2012-01-24T19:39:00.001-05:00

You know you're down on your luck when it's a three dog night and you only got one dog and she's a chihuahua.

sapphoq n friends

So Fair Use is Dead

2012-01-19T22:04:00.001-05:00

Here's an artistic expression of my displeasure with the DMCA, SOPA, PIPA, attempts by large corporations to censor the internet, and the latest crap being talked about by politicians who are not computer geeks, courtesy of my dog and convenient snow mound:

Oh, the Twelve Days of Christmas

2012-01-03T08:54:00.002-05:00

I recently received a currently circulating e-mail about the supposed origins of the song "The Twelve Days of Christmas." Groan. A quickly Googled search (with Google) revealed that this mythmail is currently making the rounds of various sites whose bloggers and websters have perpetrated it along to the masses, including a few sites bearing references to Roman Catholicism in their titles.

Come on people, how hard can it be to check with a site such as Snopes dot com before hitting your "Send" or "Publish" button?

/headdesk

On a different note, I had a nice winter solstice. I spent it in the company of my dog and other loved ones.

sapphoq n friends

"Superfly"
the usual stuff: yes this is my image that i created from a photograph that i've taken with my camera. the original is safely stored on my harddrive and a few other places. although i do not like to write these sorts of thing, because i understand that the dmca is not my friend among other reasons, i have also found that there are a bunch of people who do not play nice in respect to stuff that some of the rest of us create. fair use i am for. claiming that you created something that someone else did is uncool. therefore: all rights reserved.

Weaving Pumpkin

2011-12-28T11:16:00.001-05:00

In a field, someone discarded a bunch of busted up pumpkins. The local chickadees had a feast on the seeds. This is a pumpkin half which I modded. I'm not sure the alpha layer shows well here. The white space here is actually transparency from an alpha layer. All rights reserved.

sapphoq n friends

Underground in Paris

2011-12-23T00:47:00.000-05:00

Recently, I've had the occasion to visit the catacombs underneath the city of Paris. This is a virtual self looking quite prim and proper in a rendition of a typical 1900s gown. The boat tour was unavailable so I walked myself through the route and found this spot here to take a rest.

Another Hiserville Spring

2011-05-15T14:40:00.000-04:00

Dad is now installed in the second adult living facility, a much prettier and smaller place with better service. He is carving his space out and doing as well as anyone with Lewey Body Dementia can be. He has now found some medication that he can tolerate and is willing to take, has acquainted himself with his new neighborhood, and is gaining back some needed weight.

I have lost the weight I needed to and am now maintaining. I attend TOPS faithfully. People clap for me when I am in leeway (up to three pounds above my goal weight), at goal, or under goal (up to six pounds below my goal weight). I clap for the other folks who have made it to their goal weight and for the others who stay the same or lost but not at goal yet. I remind those who gained that "tomorrow starts a new week." It is a group thing and comforting in the existence of its' own rituals and support.

The dog is a year older. Companion has just started talking about getting a puppy. I am not quite ready to face the idea of dog's decline and inevitable death.

Out in the backyard, along with the usual white-throats and white crowns, house sparrows, happy little chickadees and friends, and hairies and downies, raucous blue jays and stately cardinals, there was a bit of unusual activity in the past month. A large mixed flock of over thirty house finches and purple finches decided that my backyard feeder was the place to be and they have come every day faithfully for a month now. I've been startled by a tufted titmouse and a mourning dove who decided separately to sit on the railing within three feet of my stoop and check me out. Last week the first hummer of the season made its' way through the blossoms of my crabapple tree. A pair of hairies have been vigorously inspecting the quaking aspen (maybe for a nesting site I don't know). A pair of rose-breasted grosbeaks flew in one evening and stopped to feed. The female ate in the usual manner with her legs on the anti-squirrel bar and beak facing the sunflower seeds. The male didn't. He positioned himself away from the feeder which forced his head to turn left or right to grab the seeds. He ate for a solid ten minutes as if exhausted from flight. A half hour later the couple returned and the male did a repeat performance. They flew off and I haven't seen them since. A couple of mornings ago, a catbird flew in. He treated me to a few stanzas of his song with a few cat-like meows thrown in. And then he too departed.

I've continued to have not good experiences with VESID now accessNY (lol what a name!)-- OVR or BVR in other states and continue to run through job developers and VESID counselors. The latest job developer however appears to be a human being (a refreshing change for me) and is in the process of setting up the second half of a job assessment, although not at an animal shelter. She is endeavoring to get me a spot at a small photography studio based on my skills with creating textures and backgrounds and things using (registered trademarks) Corel's PaintShop Pro 9 and 10 and (freeware) The GIMP. I will have to learn (registered trademark) Adobe Photoshop Plus which is what the professionals are using these days but looking forward to this possibility. So although I indicated that I can manage to work Saturday mornings at the animal shelter, I am hoping that something can be arranged with a photography place.

Gas prices have gone up like crazy, Osama bin Laden is dead and I hope we nuke the countries of origins of any terrorists who dare to come over here to bomb ours in retaliation for his death, I am at a healthy weight, I am managing my traumatic brain injury as well as I can with occasional lapses, I remain abstinent (thirty years of a day at a time and counting), and I am reasonably happy. I haven't blogged regularly in awhile-- dementia makes for havoc and chaos in the lives of the caregiver turned advocate and family even when at its' calmness-- and to that I can only say "We'll see if I can return to semi-regularity" rather than make any promises that I cannot keep.

sapphoq n friends

p.s. I've abandoned Facebook cuz I hate it.

Dearly Demented Dad

2010-10-07T22:55:00.001-04:00

Dad wants to go to alf and I feel guilty.
He even has one picked out-- the one we saw that was affordable.
He is visiting us because he has a neurology appointment tomorrow.
He wants to visit the alf AGAIN tomorrow.
He doesn't know when he wants to move in yet but he clearly wants to live there in his own room on the second floor-- it's a coupla miles from our home.

Dad had five accidents in five months and thus quit driving in May (car got wrecked) and I feel guilty.
I'd tried to get Dad to quit driving a couple of years ago but failed. His wife/now ex-wife felt unable to get rid of the car. I told the state of New Jersey that he had dementia and sent them copies of his records and of his failed driving evaluation-- so they gave him his license back.
And so he had his five accidents in five months this year (thankfully no one was hurt. The last one was the worst-- he plowed into a parked car and then drove to the police station to tell them that he had an accident).
He still has his license. He says he won't "give that up."
But at least the car is gone.

Dad wants to stay with ex-wife "for as long as she has bills that she cannot pay alone" and I feel guilty.
She says she tells him to think about himself and his own needs. He says she doesn't talk to him at home or that she is "mean." He wants to get a part-time job once he moves to the alf-- whenever that is.

Dad won't take any medicine for his dementia, copd, or atrial fib and I feel guilty.
When he lived with us for several months a couple of years ago, after a very long time I had gotten him to take meds and he had even agreed to see a neurodoc up here. But the ex-wife was still his wife then and she wanted him back home so he went. Now it is two years later, he's deteriorated further and he still has no dementia meds.
His walking is worse this week than it was two weeks ago when he was here last.
The only meds he will take now are Rogaine, Robitussin, and an over the counter anti-constipation pill. He says he is taking the cough medicine and the anti-constipation pill for his copd.
His a-fib puts him at high risk for a debilitating or deadly stroke (yes I just saw that commercial on teevee. Dad didn't see it-- he is sleeping in his chair). My primary care doc told him that and he didn't seem to care. There was no reaction to that news. He says his brother takes the meds and his brother had a stroke anyways. (The brother mostly recovered from it).
Can the once again untreated a-fib have caused the dementia or worsened it??? (No, there have not been any mini-strokes). He has the neurology appointment up here tomorrow and I am afraid of the answer for that one.

Dad is here alive and I feel guilty. I have tried to protect him and failed.

Spring Comes to Hiserville

2010-05-18T11:08:00.003-04:00

Spring is struggling to maintain a foothold here in the willy-nillies of Hiserville. The backyard has borne witness to bunches of grackles and crows, a lone song sparrow, a pair of nesting house wrens, a cowbird or two, the usual collection of house sparrows and starlings and cardinals and blue jays, chickadees and a few nuthatches, goldfinches, three mourning doves who have apparently decided that both the yard and the dog are theirs, a hungry goshawk, and a northern thrasher. The grass has resumed its' tortured existence, the tulips and lilacs are blooming, the peonies and road lilies are shooting up leaves and stems, the coral bells have announced their survival of the winter. Bees and ants abound. The crab apple trees have lost their pink blossoms to the wind and the forsythias are budding.

I have lost over twenty pounds since the official start of spring. My worn comfortable clothing is a bit more comfortable these days. The dog has lost a pound and a half. She now shows a well developed muscular gut and defined thighs upon examination. The husband has himself lost weight in steadfast support of my quest to develop a healthier relationship with food. The African Bullfrog has not lost weight nor does he care to. The cats remain two bodies of strong density and excellent physical condition from all their wrestling and charging up and down stairs.

It is time to engage the dog in the first one of several walks. In my mind's eye I behold waves of the little yellow signs which are popping up over the landscape. These particular signs denote that the inhabitants within have paid around a hundred dollars a month in order for chemicals to be applied to their landscapes in order to eradicate random patches of violets and other flora. The dog will kept off of the smelliest lawns since at least one of the ingredients in the mixture can bind with the proteins present in dogs' footpads and kill them off. Indeed, the dog is not permitted to use all lawns everywhere as her personal toilet bowl. The dog has "spots" located strategically near the roadway, and I come equipped with poopy pick-up bags.

Later on the dog and I will head off for the D.O.T. trail along the river. We will inspect the latest blow-down, the progress of trillium and solomon's seals, the shifting sunlight in the forest. We may spot baby snappers sunning themselves on the logs in the swamp, a pair of brave boaters, other dogs out with their families. So delicious this time of year-- this brief interim between bitter cold and black fly season-- in spite of the weather which cannot make up its' mind sometimes minute to minute of how to be.

Fingers fly over the keyboard while a dog snoozes in the yard happily. The cats are napping in baskets near the window. Someone outside is mowing. The computer repeats its' endless refrain, advising that all is well within its' mechanical soul. The wooden chair feels hard. The body is still. The toes curl and the feet are ready. I hit "save now" and then "publish post", "sign out", x, "shutdown". The dog waits for the adjustment of harness and lead. The reader is left with no moral and no astonishing earth-shattering insights here. I hang the lanyard with the house key around my neck, adjust a tie on one sandal and we are gone.

sapphoq and canine friend

World Frog Day

2010-03-22T10:53:00.001-04:00

March 20 was World Frog Day as well as the Vernal Equinox.
In order to celebrate World Frog Day properly, one must obtain a frog and a blender...

sapphoq n friends

Two Things to Worry About

2010-03-09T09:34:00.002-05:00

shout out to rebellion dawgs for telling me this variant of heaven no worries/hell shaking hands with your buddies who are there too:

A Jewish guy got drafter for the war and he was worried. So he went to his rabbi. The rabbi told him this:

Son, after training you will be assigned to a combat unit or a non-combat unit. If you are assigned to a non-combat unit, you have nothing to worry about. If you are assigned to a combat unit, you will have two things to worry about.

Either you will be assigned to combat or assigned to something other than direct combat. If you are assigned to something other than direct combat, you have nothing to worry about. If you are assigned to direct combat, you will have two things to worry about.

Either you will get injured or you won't. If you don't get injured, you have nothing to worry about. If you do get injured either you will recover or you won't.

If you recover, you have nothing to worry about. If you don't recover, you will have two things to worry about. Either you will live with your injuries or you will die.

If you live with your injuries, you have nothing to worry about. If you die, you have two things to worry about. Either you will go to heaven or you will go to hell.

If you go to heaven, you have nothing to worry about. And if you go to hell, you still have nothing to worry about because they take bribes in hell.

sapphoq n friends

The Dog and her Presents

2009-12-28T19:45:00.002-05:00

The other day, my aunt sent home a stuffed toy that resembled a large bone in a zebra coat for the dog. A couple of years ago, my aunt had sent one in a leopard coat. The dog pried the new stuffed "bone" out of my hands, trotted off to the kitchen with it and deposited it next to the leopard coated stuffed "bone."

Later, a friend gave me a cloth chicken for the dog. She laid that one down on "her" living room throw rug alongside her "green bird", "ducky" and "quack quack."

She's either a very smart dog or I am adept at anthropomorph-ing her. I'm willing to go with the idea that the second incident of "things with wings" perhaps was random. But with the two stuffed bones, the first "bone" was in a place where her toys specifically usually are not found. Maybe she recognized the new "bone" as having the same shape as the older one. Maybe she identified the scent on both as having originated from my aunt. Maybe it was just a bit of whimsy.

I also share quarters with two cats. The older cat is more retiring although I am convinced that he likes us well enough. The younger is bold. He will eat out of the dog's dish (to the utter dismay of the dog), investigate anything in his path, and responds to the doorbell. When the cable guy came once (a man that the cat had never met), the cat walked across his papers, pawed at the guy, demanded attention. The younger cat is also gifted. After my cross-country trip, I deposited the dog's new "quack-quack" in her water dish while she was in the back yard. The cat quickly walked over to the bowl and knocked the duck out of the water dish with one paw. He then retreated to his nap spot.

I put the duck back in the water dish and called the dog inside. She tentatively picked up the new "quack-quack," and squeezed it several times so it produced a series of sounds that were intended to resemble a duck's voice (I guess) and then promptly went to the back door with it. I had to demand that she leave the "quack-quack" inside the house. Dog was disappointed as she clearly wanted the annoying thing OUT. Dog has since resigned herself to the presence of the "quack-quack" in her domicile. Occasionally she engages in squeezing the duck so it emits that horrid sound over and over again-- particularly when husband is concentrating on television.

sapphoq n friends

Dog Eats Rolls: an urban legend

2009-11-15T09:50:00.003-05:00

This is one variation of an urban legend which recently is making the internet rounds again. Shout out to JoJo for passing this along:

Jasper and the Uncooked Yeast Rolls

We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He came to us in the summer of 2001 from the fox terrier rescue program. For those of you who are not familiar with this type of adoption, imagine taking in a 10yr. old child whom you know nothing about and committing to doing your best to be a good parent.

Like a child, the dog came with his own idiosyncrasies. He will only sleep on the bed, on top of the covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without actually performing a French kiss on me. Lest you think this is a bad case of 'no discipline,' I should tell you that Perry and I tried every means to break him of this habit including locking him in a separate bedroom for several nights. The new door cost over $200. ... But I digress.

Five week's ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost of the project is downright obnoxious, it is 20 yrs' overdue, AND it got me out of cooking Thanksgiving for family, extended family, and a lot of friends that I like more than family most of the time. I was, however, assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner rolls for the two Thanksgiving feasts we did attend. I'm still cursing the electrician for getting the new oven hooked up so quickly; the only appliance in the whole darn house that worked, thus the assignment.

I made the decision to cook the rolls on Wednesday evening to reheat on Thursday morning. Since the kitchen was freshly painted you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams latex paint #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and set them in the living room to rise for 5 hours. After 3 hours, Perry and I decided to go out to eat, returning in about an hour. An hour later the rolls were ready to go in the oven. It was 8:30pm.

When I went to the living room to retrieve the pans, much to my shock, one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty. I called out to Jasper and my worst nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled over to me. He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin Tire man wrapped up in fur. He groaned when he walked. I swear even his cheeks were bloated.

I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would probably be OK, however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every 2 hours for the rest of the night. God only knows why I thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were sick. Suffice to say that by the time we went to bed the dog was black, white and pink. He was so bloated we had to lift him onto the bed for the night.

Naively thinking the dog would be all better by morning was very stupid on my part. We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first thing; put the dog out to relieve himself. Well, the darn dog was as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was running into walls, falling flat on his butt and most of the time when he was walking his front half was going one direction and the other half was either dragging the grass or headed 90 degrees in another direction. He couldn't lift his leg to pee, so he would just walk and pee at the same time. When he ran down the small incline in our back yard he couldn't stop himself and nearly ended up running into the fence. His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon.

I endured another few seconds of laughter from the vet (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk. He assured me that, not unlike most binges we humans go through, it would wear off after about 4 or 5 hours and to keep giving him Pepto Bismol.

Afraid to leave him by himself in the house, Perry and I loaded him up and took him with us to my sister's house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the day. My sister lives outside of Muskogee on a ranch, (10 to 15 minute drive). Rolls firmly secured in the trunk (124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back seat onto the console of the car between Perry and I, we took off.

Now I know you probably don't believe that dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a drunk tank at the police station. But that's not the worst of it. Now he was beginning to fart and they smelled like baked rolls. God strike me dead if I am not telling the truth! We endured this for the entire trip to Karee's, thankful she didn't live any further away than she did.

Once Jasper was firmly placed in my sister's garage with the door locked, we finally sat down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving meal of the day. The dog was the topic of conversation all morning long and everyone made trips to the garage to witness my drunk dog, each returning with a tale of Jasper's latest endeavor to walk without running into something.

Of course, as the old adage goes, "what goes in must come out" and Jasper was no exception. Granted if it had been me that had eaten 12 risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well have put a concrete block up my behind, but alas a dog's digestive system is quite different from yours or mine. I discovered this was a mixed blessing when we prepared to leave Karee's house. Having discovered his "packages" on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car so we could hose down the floor. This was another naive decision on our part.

The blast of water from the hose hit the poop on the floor and the poop on the floor withstood the blast from the hose. It was like Portland cement beginning to set up and cure. We finally tried to remove it with a shovel. I (obviously no one else was going to offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to get the remnants off of the floor.

And as if this wasn't degrading enough, the darn dog in his drunken state had walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the garage floor that had to be brushed too.

Well, by this time the dog was sobering up nicely so we took him home and dropped him off before we left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's sister's house. I am happy to report that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal both in size and temperament. He has had a bath and is no longer tricolor. None the worse for wear I presume.

I am also happy to report that just this evening I found 2 risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my closet door. It appears he must have come to his senses after eating 10 of them but decided hiding 2 of them for later would not be a bad idea.

Now, I'm doing research on the computer as to "How to clean unbaked dough from the Carpet."

And how was your Day?

---Jasper and the Unbaked Yeast Rolls

Those of you who have/had animals will probably appreciate it more. It is a story that is hilarious in itself and the person that wrote it is a good writer and made the story even better. Enjoy...

We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He came to us in the summer of 2001 from the fox terrier rescue program. For those of you, who are unfamiliar with this type of adoption, imagine taking in a 10 year old child about whom you know nothing and committing to doing your best to be a good parent.

Like a child, the dog came with his own idiosyncrasies. He will only sleep on the bed, on top of the covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without actually performing a French kiss on me.

Lest you think this is a bad case of 'no discipline,' I should tell you that Perry and I tried every means to break him of this habit including locking him in a separate bedroom for several nights. The new door cost over $200. But I digress.

Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost of the project is downright obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking Thanksgiving for family, extended family, and a lot of friends that I like more than family most of the time.

I was assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner rolls for the two Thanksgiving feasts we did attend.

I am still cursing the electrician for getting the new oven hooked up so quickly It was the only appliance in the whole darn house that worked, thus the assignment.

I made the decision to cook the rolls on Wed evening to reheat Thurs am. Since the kitchen was freshly painted, you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and set them in the living room to rise for a few hours. Perry and I decided to go out to eat, returning in about an hour.
The rolls were ready to go in the oven.

It was 8:30 PM. When I went to the living room to retrieve the pans, much to my shock one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty. I called out to Jasper and my worst nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled over to me. He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin Tire man wrapped up in fur. He groaned when he walked. I swear even his cheeks were bloated.

I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would probably be OK, however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every 2 hours for the rest of the night.

God only knows why I thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were sick. Suffice it to say that by the time we went to bed the dog was black, white and pink. He was so bloated we had to lift him onto the bed for the night.

We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first thing; put the dog out to relieve himself. Well, the dog was as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was running into walls, falling flat on his butt and most of the time when he was walking his front half was going one direction and the other half was either dragging the grass or headed 90 degrees in another direction.

He couldn't lift his leg to pee, so he would just walk and pee at the same time. When he ran down the small incline in our back yard he couldn't stop himself and nearly ended up running into the fence.

His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon. I endured another few seconds of laughter from the vet (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk.

He assured me that, not unlike most binges we humans go through, it would wear off after about 4 or 5 hours and to keep giving him Pepto Bismol.

Afraid to leave him by himself in the house, Perry and I loaded him up and took him with us to my sister's house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the day.

My sister lives outside of on a ranch, (10 to 15 minute drive). Rolls firmly secured in the trunk (124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back seat onto the console of the car between Perry and me, we took off.

Now, I know you probably don't believe that dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP.. These burps were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a drunk tank at the police station. But that's not the worst of it.

Now he was beginning to fart and they smelled like baked rolls. God strike me dead if I am not telling the truth! We endured this for the entire trip to Karen's, thankful she didn't live any further away than she did.

Once Jasper was firmly placed in my sister's garage with the door locked, we finally sat down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving meal of the day. The dog was the topic of conversation all morning long and everyone made trips to the garage to witness my drunken dog, each returning with a tale of Jasper's latest endeavor to walk without running into something. Of course, as the old adage goes, 'what goes in must come out' and Jasper was no exception.

Granted, if it had been me that had eaten 12 risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well have put a concrete block up my behind, but alas a dog's digestive system is quite different from yours or mine. I discovered this was a mixed blessing when we prepared to leave Karen's house. Having discovered his 'packages' on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car so we could hose down the floor.

This was another naive decision on our part. The blast of water from the hose hit the poop on the floor and the poop on the floor withstood the blast from the hose. It was like Portland cement beginning to set up and cure.

We finally tried to remove it with a shovel. I (obviously no one else was going to offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to get the remnants off of the floor. And as if this wasn't degrading enough, the darn dog in his drunken state had walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the garage floor that had to be brushed too.

Well, by this time the dog was sobering up nicely so we took him home and dropped him off before we left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's sister's house.

I am happy to report that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal both in size and temperament. He has had a bath and is no longer tricolor. None the worse for wear I presume. I am also happy to report that just this evening I found 2 risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my closet door.

It appears he must have come to his senses after eating 10 of them but decided hiding 2 of them for later would not be a bad idea. Now, I'm doing research on the computer about: 'How to clean unbaked dough from the carpet.'

And how was your day?

Human Swines

2009-10-20T16:09:00.002-04:00

I was talking with a buddy earlier today. In the course of our conversation, I related that husband speaks of a certain cable channel viewed primarily by women audiences as "the men are pigs channel." I then went on to admit that there are some "women who are pigs too." Buddy became excited at that point. "Finally, a woman admits that," he said.

How curious that in this era of popularized victimhood laced with artificial liberation of the feminine psyche, there still exists an exalted feeling that some vast majority of men are related to swine. I know that women are capable of being gross and vulgar in conversation and in action because I have seen it with my own two eyes. To wit, the "love heaps" of wiggling bodies groping each other during some polyamorous conferences are composed of both men and women. I also hold up the evidence that women are just as capable as men of cheating on their mates, engaging in sexist conversation related to the physical attributes of others, and beating on their partners.

I don't know whether or not "Real men eat quiche." What I do know is that real human beings of any gender engage in extraordinary acts of both kindness and cruelty, hatred and compassion. Generalizing any given statement to one gender displays our prejudicial thinking. Thus, it is not "Most or all men are pigs." Nor is it, "Most or all women are pigs."

We can say, "Some unknown percentage of human beings are pigs." I can be totally politically correct and say, "Some unknown percentage of human beings engage in piggish acts." But alas, I am just not that "well" yet.

sapphoq n friends

Autumnal Equinox comes rolling in

2009-09-22T15:00:00.002-04:00

The Autumnal Equinox comes rolling in today (September 22, 2009) at 5:19 p.m. E.S.T. I came into my witchery before the days when this astronomical event began to be called Mabon-- that is to say before Aiden Kelly created the word-- and this particular Sabbat will more than likely never be "Mabon" to me. Also, many witches consider the equinoxes and solstices to be lesser sabbats. I don't. Within my practice, the equinoxes and solstices are the major sabbats. (Thus May Day, Lugh's Day, Sam Hain, and Brigit's birthday are the minor ones).

Today I did a welcoming to the new season and am also engaged in some fall cleaning. I have set specific goals related to the purging of some of my possessions and organization of what is left, to be completed by the Winter Solstice. At some time after 5:19 p.m., I will renew the protections (or wards, to use the old-fashioned word) around the property.

sapphoq n friends

How to Say "I love you" in several different places

2009-08-31T17:28:00.002-04:00

courtesy of friend JoJo

How to say "I Love You" In most geographical areas
English	I Love You
Spanish	Te Amo
French	Je T’aime
German	Ich Liebe Dich
Japanese	Ai Shite Imasu
Italian	Ti Amo
Chinese	Wo Ai Ni
Swedish	Jag Alskar Dig
Lithuanian	As Tave Meliu
Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, North Carolina, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, West Virginia	Nice Tits

I liked living in the South when I was there (Baton Rouge, Louisiana, 1978).
I very quickly became "redneck and proud."
I remember those days with fondness and perhaps will share about them in
sapphoq on life sometime. (See Profile for list of all blogs).

Seems to me like in the North, people danced around their prejudices, likes and
dislikes and feelings in general.
In the South people would say, "Well, I just don't like you."
Folks were more direct and I miss that now.

spike from sapphoq n friends

On Differences

2009-07-04T19:16:00.002-04:00

I've been thinking about teamwork. Specifically I've been thinking about how it is that many employers today expect teamwork. Everyone is on a team, part of a team, hopefully the winning team.

I am not a team player. I have come to accept that about myself and to embrace it. Being a maverick, an independent thinker, a solitary sort, an aspergian to the core-- well, there is nothing to be gained by fighting my intrinsic way of being and navigating around the universe.

I am an investigator. I know how to ask questions. I know how to listen for what is not said as well as for what is not being said.

I know who I am.

I respect you for who you are, just the way you are. I give you the basic respect that every human being deserves. I even respect you for being a person of faith, for being on your god's team. I respect you for your need to be managed, even to be micro-managed if that is as you wish.

I also deserve respect, the same basic respect that I extend to you. I deserve respect as a person of non-faith, for being a solitary traveler. I deserve respect for my need to be left alone, to seek out what works for me. If you cannot respect me for who I am, then respect me because I am a human being like you.

I am not asking for your permission or for you toleration. I am far beyond that. I am asking for your acknowledgment. If you cannot acknowledge me for who I am, I accept that. I know that acceptance is not approval. I deal with what is. Your inability to acknowledge me does not cause me to think less of myself. It is a far deeper pain than that.

sapphoq and friends

Sunday Homesick

2009-06-08T16:45:00.000-04:00

Another bright sunny day after some grayness, cool air, and clouds burned off and I've got cabin fever. On our trek
to the store with happy dog in tow, husband asked me if I wanted to go home today. "I won't do that to you," I told
him. To husband who has been coming up here since the 1950s, this island is a treat and his spiritual home.

While I love water and trees and rocks-- all of which are plentiful here-- this trip has had its difficulties for me.
For one thing, we are without a car on the island itself. That immediately eliminates some of the places I like to
visit such as The Hook with its' sandbar and walk over to Little Chebeague, Rose's Point, and Chandlers' cove. Add
to that the lack of internet signal at the cottage, no access to support groups, and no television (never mind cable)
and I feel effectively isolated from the world at large. I miss my friends.

This week has been remarkable in that my trouble with remembering faces since my accident (the official word is
pronoscopia) is pronounced. I remember names and things about people. Once I am told the name of someone, I can put
that into a context. That part is good. What is not good is the not knowing. I can recognize the too-thin woman
next door sitting on her deck reading a book for instance. But if she dons a hat and sunglasses and heads for the
beach on the cousins' right-of-way, I have to ask her if I know her or if she is just another lost tourist from the
hotel. Even husband has noticed the pronoscopia this week, enough to comment on it.

Normally when here, we have two weekends and a week in the middle, thus we would have been on the road back home
today. But we are not. Also, usually mother-in-law is in residence along with her car that she has freighted over
from the mainland. That will not be occuring til Thursday as husband is driving her and her car up on Wednesday. At
any rate, a nap on the couch with the younger cat snoozing with me and a look at the morning paper has taken the edge
off my cabin fever for the moment.

***

How quickly things can change in the space of a couple of hours. This afternoon we took the dog down to Hamilton
Beach as the tide was midway between high point and low point. She enjoyed trotting through the water, racing around
in the sand, and going up the steps from the beach to the yards of various people uninvited. I got husband to sit
on a log for a few minutes while I enjoyed watching some ducks bob up and down with the waves along the reef. Don't
know what kind of ducks as they all looked black against the sun and the sky.

Back at home I was treated to the sight of the younger cat standing up against the back of the old gray chair in the
living room, all puffed out, and staring intensely at a kit walking up mosquito alley. I can't say if it was the
same kit we saw earlier in the week or not by someone's bird feeder. But it did make me glad that our cats are
indoor cats despite their protestations. Cats are looked upon as a yummy meal by red foxes. And with the kits,
sooner or later instinct is bound to kick in.

Husband's sisters called, back from a sojourn with their mother to a college reunion. Mother-in-law's oldest cat--
who is 18 years old-- stopped eating and was delivered to the vet before they left on their trip. No word yet on
whether or not he is still among the living but I suspect not, or not for long. Along with that, now her car "has
to be fixed." Husband did not ask exactly what has to be fixed, when it broke, or if she has a set appointment yet.
This has changed her plans. Now it seems as if my husband will not be driving her up to Maine in her car on
Wednesday. The current plans are that she and her car will be driven up by the more local of the two sisters on
Saturday. That sister asked my husband if he would stay here until Saturday in order to meet her and their mother
at the boat. Then husband could get his mother settled in while sister bikes over to another dock to meet another
boat to take her to another island where she and her family have rented a house for a week. Then husband could
proceed back to the mainland on boat and bus and then drive home. I was not crazy about the idea of staying here til
Saturday. We had plans and now they are being rearranged. I miss my friends, my routine, my internet, my teevee,
my home and deck and garden. I want to go home.

At any rate over dinner husband decided he really didn't want to stay until Saturday. There are several obstacles in
the way of doing that. He doesn't have enough blood pressure medicine to last through Saturday morning. It's
fifteen extra bucks a night for the car to stay in the parking lot. We would have to go to town (on the mainland)
tomorrow to buy more food. The round-trip for both of us is twenty bucks. Island living and even island visiting
is expensive. I would have been willing to stay a couple more days if husband wished it but not a whole week longer.

So far we are going home Tuesday as planned. If at some point he decides to stay until Saturday, I'm out of here.

Saturday Lobster

2009-06-08T16:44:00.000-04:00

Today started early. Wild dog woke me up at 5:30 so I walked her up and down the road in my nightclothes. (She
ignored me last night and ran off so this morning she got the lead). The mosquitos were a lively bunch today. I
grumbled a bit, ate some breakfast then, and went back to bed for a few more hours.

Husband, dog, and I walked up to the dock and then through the woods to some of the golf course tees. It was early
morning as well as early season so consequently we saw only four golfers. The golf course is a full 18 holes and
I guess it comes highly recommended. Back home via mosquito alley.

After lunch I took the dog out walking again. We went down the public access road to the beach. Dog got to run
then. We found three other dogs (one of them being Phil the puppy from up the road) and three younger folks with
them. I almost said kids but the twenty-somethings don't like that. At any rate, the young man with Phil had to
be reminded that my dog and his knew each other already as he was panicking. The two young women-- one had a lab
mixed with something heavier possible staffordshire, and the other a yellow lab-- were asking one dog where "his"
stick was.

I found a stick and threw it in the water several times, much to the delight of the three other dogs. My dog
followed along plunging into the water cuz her doggie buddies were doing it. But it was clear to me that she would
have preferred not to chase sticks as usually after the second time I toss something away she figures I mustn't
really want it. But she got wet and got to see other dogs be excited about sticks. The four had a romp on the
beach and then the young folks and their dogs wandered away.

I couldn't help but wonder if my sudden appearance had interrupted a would-be session of pot-smoking or something.
Even so, the young people were nice enough. Part of me wanted to say to them, "Look, I was young once too." But
that sounded lame. So I didn't. At any rate it doesn't really matter.

Dog and I wandered back along the beach toward the cousins'. We saw an older woman sitting on a rock reading a
newspaper in the breeze. Dog spied what must have been her lunch in a plastic bag. With firm encouragement, the
dog came away and the woman was spared her own food. There was a lone gull on a rock by the point. The tide was
heading out but the eiders were not to be found yet. We come back up the stairs between the cousins' and the point.

This afternoon I relaxed and husband fretted about the delivery of the lobsters. Seems the guy he gets them from is
struggling not to drink and perhaps on the losing end of that stick. At any rate the lobsters came. They were
hard-shells and at one and an eighth pound apiece cost six bucks total. Husband cooked them up, melted the butter,
and set out the potato chips. It was a delicious meal, our first at the dining room table all week. Dog lay by
my feet hoping for a taste of lobster. Turns out she likes lobster. The two cats were nowhere in sight. After
dinner more quiet time. Husband in bed by seven p.m. and so I had a quiet evening.

I talked with my dad today briefly just to say hello. He was heading out for some hair products. Husband said to me
after we hung up, "Man, he should just look in his bathroom. I couldn't go into the bathroom after him because of
all the hair stuff he uses." Which was pretty funny. I myself at times have gotten bent on cleaning products and
so we would wind up with lots of them, all different kinds. That must be where I got that from. Dad is stuck on
hair products and I am stuck on cleaning products.

I also talked to Ed. He is expecting a grandchild-- his first-- in September. She is going to be a girl, that we
know and we even know her name but I will not publish it here.

Well that was it for today. I am missing my internet connection and my friends back at home. So far it looks like
we will be leaving Tuesday. Husband and his mother will drive her car back up on Wednesday. And he plans to take
either the train home or rent-a-car. I teased him a bit, telling him that I am going to go to the bookstore on
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday when he is away.

Friday in Portland

2009-06-08T16:42:00.000-04:00

I took the dog for a walk this morning and we stopped to see the artist woman in the green house. The mosquitos were
something fierce this morning. While there she told me this story:

Artist woman and husband have a house in Freeport, a farm in Central Maine, and a condo in Florida. She is retired
and had earned the things she has. She also flips houses-- only she usually lives in them while fixing them up. She
and her family bought the ramshackle house nearby our end of the road. The former resident had been a quiet woman
with crazy relatives. This former owner had been existing there on weekends without electric-- for fear that her
crazy relatives would notice an increase in the bill-- or running water. She didn't fix up the house at all. She
was afraid she would lose it after her mother died. And that is exactly waht happened.

She hadn't dusted in forty-five years either, according to the artist lady. Or vacumned. The place was a pig pen.
Additionally, prior owner had three months to get out and the artist woman felt forced to help her pack stuff and
move it every day during the month of January. When artist woman returned from the Florida condo, prior resident
called her up demanding more help "right now." And pitched a fit when the help was not forthcoming. Never mind that
legally she was supposed to be out by the end of January.

At any rate, the new owners have had to padlock the door to keep the insane twisted woman out.

Dog and I returned to the cottage to find that husband had misread the boat schedule. I played some computer
majong and did some computer art so the time was not wasted. After apologizing to the dog for leaving her, we walked
back up mosquito alley (the mosquitos here are outnumbered only by the ticks) past the golf course to the dock. It
was high tide which means that the ramp was almost parallel rather than at a steep angle to the boat. There were
not a lot of people boarding today. Just a few year rounders going into town to do some shopping and run errands.
We got on the boat and then the shuttle bus to the parking lot.

Husband drove down route 1, hopped on the freeway, and then swung off into Baxter and then Forest Avenue. First stop
The Caravan where I picked up some new beads. Then to a small Mexican restaurant. And then to the Old Port. The
staffer at the comic store remembered husband from last year and even what he had bought. We cruised around the
cobblestone street willy-nilly, checked out the store with the old maps, laughed at one teeshirt on display which
said "bad dog" illustrated by a dog taking a dump, retreated quickly from an ice cream shop where the first scoop was
three bucks. "We'll get ice cream at Bagels n More," husband said. And that is what we did. Bagels n More is in
a small strip mall across from the larger strip mall where Shaws and the Goodwill are.

After ice cream, we went to the Goodwill. Husband and I both picked up a couple of books apiece. I found a Peterson
fourth edition bird book which I shall leave at the cottage. If mother-in-law throws it away-- she has a habit of
throwing out, giving away, or donating anything she does not use herself-- no big whoop. Husband picked up a few
food essentials at Shaws and then speeded down Route 1 just in time to miss the bus for the boat.

He swore. He parked the car. We sat under the trees reading our new old books. A man came with a shitzu/pek mix
in a black kennel. He tuned up his guitar but I was too tired to be interested. The bus came and then we were
deposited by the long dock leading to the ramp and the boat. The boat came. First the people got off. A young
couple with three little girls were waiting to board with us. The middle child was swooped up by her dad because she
would not move out of the way. This set off tears. The youngest decided to join the middle in crying. After the
folks got off the boat, the crew (three this time, not two) loaded the boat with the groceries in bean bags and
etcetera. Then they waved us on. The two little girls who had commenced crying cried all the way back to the
island. It was a regular crying contest. The oldest sister was begging for her share of attention too. The man
with the caged ankle-biter had disappeared into the back of the boat somewhere which was just fine with me. He was
seeking out attention for his dog. In my world, dogs adjust to humans and not the other way around.

Back at home, neither of us were hungry. Husband tottered off to bed at 6:30! That left me with a quiet evening of
reading, computer, and dog.

Thursday-- Old Friends

2009-06-08T16:41:00.000-04:00

Another sunny morning. The three of us set out for Hamilton beach. Our too-thin neighbor walked with us for a
short distance before turning off. Then a yellow lab named Lilly and her owner-- I remember the dog from last summer
and I've even got a picture of her and her now passed on black lab companion from a couple summers ago splashing in
the water with my dog-- came along and the two dogs played for a bit. We walked back home. With apologies to the
dog, husband and I set off for a walk. He was going to the store and I to the library.

At the library I found that an old acquaintance from my wild college days had e-mailed me. Turned out my best friend
from high school had directed him to my blogs. He is doing well for himself and I was pleased to hear that. Best
friend and I had driven to his parents' home late one night around Halloween time. We wrapped his car up in paper
chains fashioned to a cut-out white ghost with a blue thumbprint on it. The blue thumbprint was in reference to my
own thumbnail which I had slammed into my car door one afternoon. The thumbnail turned blue over a period of a
couple of weeks and then fell off, revealing a new thumbnail underneath.

Spaghetti tonight for supper.

Wednesday: Achiness and Fox

2009-06-04T14:23:00.001-04:00

After the grayness of early morning burned off, another fine sunny day in Casco Bay. Husband and I took the dog for
a walk along Hamilton Beach after breakfast. The tide was high (but going out). The eiders and the heron all were
someplace else. The clearness of the bay held me enraptured. Taking off my dog mom hat, I dipped it in the bay and
then put it back on my head. "Why?" asked husband. "Is that symbolic of something?" I smiled as my feet struggled
for purchase on the rocks littering the southern half of the beach. "Nope. Just feels good."

The dog happily dashed all over the beach, snuck in a few quick swims when she thought we weren't looking, tried
to wrestle a large log out of husband's grasp. (He collects driftwood for firewood). There were no other dogs on
the beach today (the various labs that come during the summer hadn't arrived yet) so she contented herself by playing
with us instead. A lobsterboat went by and one lone comorant. The wake from the boat didn't reach the shore til it
was round the bend and out of our line of vision. The dog danced happily into the artificial waves.

We stopped to say hello to a neighbor across the way and then after a bit husband and I went off to the library book
sale. Himself got a book of New Yorker political cartoons and a Robert Parker novel. I picked up a copy of "Reading
Lolita in Tetran," and another book by a company mover and shaker turned blogger. I used the library computer to
hurriedly check my e-mails. Friend Ei had gone to the Bahamas to an ashram and she is now certified to teach Yoga.
You go gal! She's offered to show me some meditative yoga for the body aches and I may take her up on that. It is
the increase in endorphins that provide pain relief-- which is why meditation, craftwork, movement, sex all help with
pain management. My problem is that I want to know why I am having the aches. Is it a fibro flare-up? (I don't
take any pain meds for mine and consider myself fortunate that my fibro is mild enough to where I don't have to. And
fibro to me is sort of like an arthritis of the muscles. Doctors tend to blame the patients because often fibro is
severely painful and thus people want pain meds that actually work.) If not fibro, are the degenerative discs in
my back worsening? Is it the over age fifty arthritis thing that most people get? Or? Or? Or? (This is what comes
of reading Medscape for a hobby).

Actually I have a yen to go sailing on a boat, on a whale watch, or perhaps take a cruise somewheres. There is no
sailboat that we have access to, even up here. I require a second and possibly a third driver to get to the places
where a whalewatch can be had. (Interested, Ei? Maybe me, you, your daughter, a friend or two perhaps sometime this
summer or fall?) And as far as a cruise goes right now-- some rich unknown relative would have to die and leave me
a shitload of money. In other words, I am not holding my breath. I love water-- mother ocean, bays, backwashes,
lakes, creeks, waterfalls-- particularly if it is cold water that I am able to swim in. I swim like a fish, always
have. I can float on my back for hours and even fall asleep that way. I am more of an endurance/distance swimmer
rather than speed. But I enjoy water. As a kid once my mother and step-dad rented a sailboat and we went sailing on
the ocean near Lavallette New Jersey. That was a happy day. I can still feel the wind and the sun on my face,
remember the white hooded sweatshirt I wore, the orange life vest. I've been on a few boats since-- two cruise ships,
one row boat with a sail and a 5 mpg putt-putt motor on the Sacandaga with my old friend Kenny and then his secondhand
houseboat, and a neighbor's sloop up here in Casco Bay. Reading about the desert over the past fortnight has made me
thirsty for water. I sent off a few e-mails on the crappy connection that the library has and then we were off to a
late lunch. Since the grocery store was closed, we went to Calder's for a fish fry and onion rings.

On our way back, my eye was drawn to a reddish canid under someone's birdfeeder. Upon closer inspection, it turned
out to be a young fox, a kit determinedly eating-- I don't know if it was seeds on the ground from the bird feeder
or a corpse-- something. I was close enough to her where I could hear her crunching. The kit had red down her back
to the end of her tail which was white and four black stockinged feet. She had the sharp chin, the whiskers, the
bright dark eyes. She watched us watching her. The owner of the house came up from the back. He said the kit and
one slightly larger kit have been coming to the feeder. He hadn't seen the mother fox lately and said he didn't
"know what happened to her." He had seen both kits run off to the wooded lots across the road and he suspected the
den was probably in there somewheres. Although a neighbor or two had encouraged him to feed the baby foxes, he was
having none of that. I figured he was right on that account.

Another lazy evening here at the cottage (quesadillas for dinner), a walk for me and the dog, some reading time, bed.

Monday-- Sleeping on an Island

2009-06-04T14:18:00.001-04:00

I was reading more Abbey last night, more about the Utah desert as it was before the Industrial Tourism engineers got
a hold of maps of it and turned it into paved roads leading out into the wilds. His words made sleep a very long
time coming. I laid up there in the bed next to the man who can sleep through anything, pondering the irony of read
ing about the desert in the middle of an island surrounded by the salt water of Casco Bay.

I have always wanted to sleep on an island. The islands that I had in mind are surrounded by lakes in the
Adirondacks. One of the islands in the middle of Cranberry Lake would do nicely. One of the ones surrounded by
Pharoah Lake with a view of the most holy Split Rock better yet. Perhaps it is not too late and I will still get my
chance.

This morning though I contented myself with sitting on the fractured rocks along Fisherman's Beach with views of the
tiny uninhabited islands dotting the bay. There are bigger islands which are owned by the Industrialists (a nod to
Abbey for it is his word and not my own) and which have some sort of tourist trade. One has a church and offers
retreats. A couple others are not really islands-- for roads and bridges connect them to the mainland-- but have
become bastardized in their attempt to pry some of the money out of the soft hands of those who come to Maine to
escape the city. They are incapable of leaving the city behind. They come in their gas guzzlers up 91 or 95 with
their fancy clothes and their fancy dogs and their kids who have never known the joy of true silence. They come to
rent out the quaint little houses or stay in the fancier hotels. They eat out at the restaurants where no locals
can be found enjoying the fare. A few of the locals are stuck in the hot kitchens and a few more are waitressing.
But none are customers.

At the end of Harpswell Neck (just past one of the uninhabited little islands in view of Fisherman's Beach) there is
a store called Land's End. I have been there. We've gone by car several times. Several roads and a couple hours
it takes to get there. We rolled through sleepy and not so sleepy little towns, inhaled the exhaust of other cars on
the not-free-freeway, been casually tempted by the overpriced little antique shops along the way. Alas, inflated
prices for not so antique treasures. Land's End is three floors of kitch. Yup. From spiney dried out blow-up
fishies on nylon string to witch balls which have never been handled by a witch to Christmas balls and sweatshirts.
Land's End is not a place for the weary or the broke. Here I must confess that I myself have hunted for baubles
and shiney objects in the lie that is Land's End. Better I should have spent my time on the little beach outside,
studying the lapping of the gentle waves meeting rocky sand. But no. I too am a mere mortal, a consumer of frantic
factory-produced goods. I too am invested in the Lie which is the heart and soul of Amerika. The truth and the lie
can both be unpalatable and rotten as they hit the gastric juices.

It is to Portland that we shall venture toward the end of this week. Portland with its' Old Port and yes, some diners
and small restaurants where the locals can indeed be found as customers. There is a Starbucks there-- or Starpukes
as I like to render it. A comics store, toy stores, a few hippie shops, a travel agency. Cobblestone streets, public
transit buses, a park. Bookstores, art galleries, tall buildings where those who have made it work and rush out to
the local bistro during lunch hours. The bead and yarn store further away from the crowds, coin shops, lighthouses,
a private community, a ghetto where honest homey faces and twisted bodies wait on line for the soup kitchen to open
up.

Everyone needs a hobby I guess. I had an acquaintance back home whose hobby was to eat at a local soup kitchen. She
was not starving, had never really known physical hunger. She would donate money for her meal and talk about how
a soup kitchen meets the needs of the poor for socialization. I went with her once. This was not a hobby that I
found to be palatable.

Within the past half-decade, I myself have gone from finally having arrived with a fancy-enough middle management
position to the ranks of the disabled. The original plan, formulated by the nice neuropysch in another county was
that VESID would job coach me in a position cobbled together for me at my old place of employ given my new limitations
and problems heaped up upon my old ones. This was not to be. VESID took its time "accepting" me. Once accepted, I
was horrified to learn that the "counselor" assigned to me was someone that had been a co-worker years ago with whom
I had shared more than one joint and more than one beer. The employment officer from the brain injury hospital in
the other county whose job it really wasn't to help me out of the kindness of her own heart came up to my county to
meet with VESID and me. The second VESID counselor was notable for being a man and for having a handshake like a
slimey fish. The third put my case on hold for a year because I refused to get a return to work order from the doctor
after a routine for me vertigo attack. "What work?" I asked her the last time she had deigned to call me on the
telephone. The RCIL got the three thousand bucks for me that year anyways. (I had gone to the other "choice" I had
for job services but that agency was an outgrowth of the sheltered workshop in town. During that interview, it
became rapidly apparent that their sole idea for my employ was factory work. "How do you know you can't manage
factory work?" one particular professional would-be helper person full of idiocy had demanded of me, "Have you been
tested for it?" Geesh. "I have a traumatic brain injury," I told him hotly. "That means No Open Machinery. No
Factory Work."). The fourth VESID counselor and the second job developer and I had met once this year, no explanation
offered of why my "case" had been put on hold without notification or of why I am suddenly judged to be healthy enough
to put up with their bullshit in spite of a lack of certification that I am indeed healthy enough to do so. No doctor's
note will be gotten from me.

The second job developer calls me once a month to nag me about giving her my resume so she can "advocate" for me and
also "needs" to meet with me. Well, I don't need to meet with her. I've quite frankly had enough of advocacy. And
no, I am no advocate. The two of them decided-- the second job handler and the fourth VESID counselor-- that I am
an advocate. But I am not an advocate. I am an investigator. That is who I am and that is what I wish to do. I do
not want to (nor am I physically capable of) become a companion to other disabled people via the agency within RCIL.
I am not willing to settle. If I cannot get a job that is meaningful TO ME, then VESID can go fuck itself and shove
the monies it is acquiring for dealing with my "case" up its crappy elongated rectal tunnel. Because VESID has not
helped me. I should not have to explain traumatic brain injury to these people whose middle names are all moron. I
should not have to point out that these things are in my records which they are so fond of keeping in notebooks. I
should not have to be ignored when I inquire about the possibility of taking a few courses at a community college (that
they would PAY FOR) in order to at least have a possibility of getting MEANINGFUL TO ME employment.

And so once again, or as always, I am in charge of my own rehabilitation. The system was set up to keep us down, not
to help us up and out. VESID in particular-- and my county is one of the worst for this-- cannot see beyond the
labels and the limitations to the investigating, idea-generating, individual that makes up the essence of who I am.
Contrary to the "individualized employment plan" that was drawn up in my name, it is not my limitations that I must
familiarize myself with. I am intimately acquainted with my limitations-- every blasted one of them. I have been
living with them, working around them when possible, sleeping, breathing, eating and moving them for the past five
and a half years. I need to focus on what I can do, not learn again and be swallowed by the things that I can't do.
And just in case my feelings are not clear here, a big fuck you goes out to VESID and all the help that is designed
not to help. For VESID sucks. Probably just as much as Abbey's Industrial Tourism sucks and my incipient consumerism
sucks. VESID sucks.

VESID counselors are fond of saying-- when excusing the slave labor that is sheltered workshops-- "Well, it's better
than sitting at home." No, it isn't. Yes I am a woman with disabilities. Yes, VESID has pigeon-holed me into the
category of multiply-disabled, severely disabled. True, my body does not bend. Yes, I have to go through mental
gymnastics in order to force my brain to think logically more times than I care to admit. True, I can only manage
ten minutes of housework at a time before I have to take a break. And yeah, the world is in constant motion. The
vision-induced vertigo ensures that my environment lurches around me counter-clockwise. To the left. The room I
am in, the landscape I find myself in, it all spins to my left. When I fall, I fall to my right. Yet I do not find
the wrongness that is inherent in the words "sitting at home." I have had plenty of time to do exactly that. And
from my perch on the back deck or the front porch or the side steps or the living room easy chair I have embraced
my time at home. I ponder these words. I turn them over in my brain-- still brilliant but slightly sideways-- Briella
is my brain's name now. I squeeze them, suck the juicy pulp out of them. And I the observer, the investigator, the fearsome
interrogator cannot find the fatality embedded in the words "sitting at home." I love my home. And I love my own
company. I am comfortable within my own skin, even with the stiffness, pain, limitations and so forth. Sitting at
home is not a leporous condition. It is not a disease or a dis-ease.

The place where I find my true self is away from the distractions of consumerism and the idle chatter. I have no fear
of myself. Like the queer poet Walt Whitman, I too celebrate myself. As a pagan and an atheist, I can do nothing
less. A sheltered workshop is a form of soul death. A sheltered workshop does not benefit us the Disabled by saving
us from facing ourselves. A sheltered workshop, just like VESID, benefits the folks at the top who run it, who draw
their salaries off our bloodied and hunched over backs.

When I was finally well enough to not need to sleep twenty two hours a day, I cultivated this new way of life. There
is a dog that requires walking and training and love, cats that desire my attention, elderly relatives who listen to
me and in turn I listen to them. There are still trees and woods and trails and water and air and sunlight and rain
in my life. I have bird feeders and a deck and tea to drink. I can take myself to a bookstore, out to eat with a
friend in places where locals go, run a load of laundry. I have blogs to write, art to create, a whole world to live
in and be conscious of and interconnect with. And there are books to read, places to explore. Several years ago, I
went off alone cross-country to places I'd never been before to retrieve pieces of my soul that had gotten lost. Deep
down within me, I feel another trip coming on. More dreams to dream. More silence to embrace. New places and people
to study and be in and with. I do not know where I shall go this time, nor how I shall afford to get there. I only
know that I am ready again for a journey to places that will at first be strange to me but then quickly also become
home. For like the snails that dot the little rocky places here by Casco Bay, I too carry my home on my back. My
place is everywhere and beyond.

Sunday-- On our way

2009-06-04T14:16:00.000-04:00

We left early Saturday morning,too early by my estimation but not by husband's. We wound for hours through
the back roads of Vermont, New Hampshire, and reached the southern end of Maine via Sanford. The two
felines unresplendent in their captive plastic kennel boxes had given up and lay quietly nestled in their
bathtowels as the dog aimed her long nose toward the cracked open window. Bad music played through
the chinsey Ford speakers and still I slept on. I slept for most of the trip, broken up twice by two
half-hour stints at driving, choosing to forego panic induced by his driving triggered by my visual
perception problems and the dusky scenery of lakes, weeds, and mountains for the pleasures of sleep
adrift in my own world of blessed silence.

I had woken up fully by time we hit the Shaw's supermarket. Himself went in for the milk, the eggs, the
butter. Upon his return I walked over to the Goodwill, with aching back and hips and shoulders and neck.
I located some shorts made from a pleasing lightweight poplin striped material and an old teeshirt in
soft grunge style bearing the logo "Long Beach Island." I stowed my treasures in the trunk and he began
at once to complain about having to take the train back home a couple of weekends hence. Upon our return,
he will be forced to transport his elderly mother back up the back roads in her car with non-functioning
radio accompanied only by the blithering natter of her voice and the shitting of her two cats in their own
captive plastic kennel boxes. And for that I was momentarily glad-- my cats don't soil their confines.
At once arose my temper at my own pain and the betrayal of my own body. "Look," I told the complainer,
"I am quite sure you will be able to manage locating a cab to take you from the Portland pier to the
Portland transportation center off of exit 5 where the Amtrak station is. That is far better than me
having to endure six or seven hours of pain and fatigue and driving alone in order to come get you." He
shrugged. "I don't mean that," he told me. I knew he meant the mechanics of it all. The investigation
involved with finding the Amtrak schedule, the train ticket, the cab phone number, the two hour trip in
early morning on the mail boat. (I didn't bother to tell him that there was also a bus available at the pier. For
some odd reason, he considers the taking of buses to be "plebian." The word plebian appears to be some sort of insult
which he and family all hurl at any activity tha they consider to be beneath them somehow. I feel fortunate that
I did not grow up with such prejudices. For me as a child in Newark, New Jersey public transportation represented
a means by which I was able to get myself to places where I wanted to go without the necessity of relying upon the
parental units-- and in some cases the added bonus of not having to explain to them exactly why my best high school
friend Peggy and I oft felt compelled to travel to places where none of our parents would have allowed us to go. But
those tales are for another day). Husband-- like me-- is at once attracted to and flummoxed by the details of daily
living.

We got to the parking lot where the car was deigned to live for 15 bucks a night, payable up front. We
unpacked, I took the dog to the lower end of the parking lots by the weeds for a shit, I used the portajohn,
husband read, I paid for the car's residence, he stowed our luggage along with the two cats onto the back of
the bus. In short order, the cats and bean bags and cheap cloth suitcases would be joined by several
dozen plants and bushes, more bean bags, and a few people. The bus driver drove one poor soul to the
Saab dealership in her own station wagon. That place had promised to return the stranded woman's car to the
lot after it was fixed but had fallen down on their end of the deal. The bus driver lent husband the phone
so he could arrange for the island taxi to meet us and the luggage at the pier. "Knowing the phone number of the
taxi is not my job," she said gruffly. It did not matter because I knew the number by heart-- I recall phone numbers
and zip codes even from my childhood with easy facility-- and there was never any question of us needing
the bus driver to provide us with any phone number. I shut my mouth then. I have some very dedicated and
opinionated viewpoints of what constitutes anyone's job. Certainly I have declared in these pages that
customer service is dead enough times for the casual reader to know what I think about this paltry refusal
of a bus driver to refuse to provide tourists to Chebeague Island with the phone number of a taxi cab. But no
matter. I don't mind following the rules when I know what the rules are. Such rules-- the ones governing
the dictates of average interactions such as the one between a bus driver who hates Chebeague and those
customers going there-- escape me and always have. While I don't believe that I am any more or any less
entitled to service than any one else, I have often noted an absense of basic human respect glossed over
by the words, "It ain't my job." Customer service is a rotting corpse. Alas, I have digressed and so must
return to the subject of these feeble paragraphs.

We sat in the back of the bus so that the overly friendly dog would not distract or terrify the rest of the
passengers, some of whom may be distressed by her presence. Dog wagged her tail and alternately checked on
the well-being of "her" cats, sniffed at the flora next to their kennels, peeked at the water and bridge and
building flying by the windows, and slept at my feet. Once the bus had backed up to to wharf, she was
tempted to bolt but was held back and remained under my firm control. We shuffled back and forth from the
luggage drop point to the loading dock until all of the bags, plants, cats, luggage, and boxes had been
removed.

The boat came then. After it had emptied itself of folks going to the mainland, the deck hands came out (all
two of them) and loaded up the back of the boat, only after which we are bidden to come along and board. A small
wave of humans ambled down the ramp and onto the dock and then into the boat itself. We sat by the outward
door which would be the one to exit off of, again with the thought that the dog should not inflict herself
gregariously upon the unwilling. She flopped down contentedly at my feet. The engine hauled itself into
life (for there was no springing that came with this engine) and we set off for the island. The hotel came
into view first, as it always does, once white but now a sickening yellow, then the shoreline, then the dock.
Husband loaded the luggage and himself into the waiting taxi van. The dog and I walked past the golf course
skirting the hotel, past the intersection of the two roads, down to where our road would turn into a pleasant
dirt path and the mosquitos grew lush and wild, down past several other cottages and one mid-size monstrosity
to our own family cottage. The uber-rich had discovered the island in recent years and had begun constructing
mansions which looked out of place among the little gingerbread cottages that was more the style of this island.
As it happened, the two elder inhabitants had winterized their monstrosity and then promptly died. Their son and
his family now came up from Boston for the summers, although the son was a weekend commuter since his Boston
medical practice would not allow for three months off in a row. Truth be told, I missed his father a tiny bit
but not his mother. His dad was an interesting old fellow who freely allowed me access to his stash of Parabola
magazines. His mum had acted interested in a return invite to our cottage later on one week but then snubbed me
in the singular local grocery store refusing to acknowledge my existence, never mind a friendly hello. They
never did make it down to our cottage that summmer. More's the pity. First he died off and then she did,
leaving a bad feeling in the air between us and I as usual unable to puzzle it out.

The dog and I continued past this winterized half-mansion of a showpiece on past the gingerbread cottages more
to my liking, past the mailboxes on the corner, arriving finally at the family cottage which sits like a barnacle
on a rock but not quite jutting out into Casco Bay. The Barnacle indeed used to be a gentleman farmer's barn
and had been converted to a three season cottage sometime before 1956 when my husband's family had bought it.
The porches are fine and spacious, the one gracing the front of the house being roofed but airy and the one in
the back being more of a deck upon which to sit and watch the garden grow and the clothes dry on the old posted
clothesline. Dog and I went through the front door into the living room, dining room and then the kitchen where
I immediately reached for a soda. Husband had sorted out the three disposable litter boxes and were placing
them where our two felines would be sure to find them. I and my aching body carted our cheap cloth luggage
upstairs and began to unpack. We would be here this time for a week and a half, leaving on Tuesday the 9th.

I plugged in my laptop and sat down to read for a bit and relax. There is no television up here, no cable, no
internet connection, no radio. There used to be a radio but it had gotten seized by my mother-in-law and thrown
out or given away. In her world, anything she did not use herself was useless. Thus the radio, various pieces
of furniture, a variety of books not to her liking, even two bicycles belonging to other members of the family
were all frantically shoved out from under her vision just as soon as she was able to. But the mother-in-law was
not here this trip. And I can't remember the last time that the two of us (and the animals) were left alone in
this small barn with the too-narrow steps leading upstairs to the side of the house designated as "our bedrooms,"
the connecting room leading to "her bedroom and her bathroom with the smelly catbox in it by the singular bathtub."
Alone the five of us, two humans and three beasts, to enjoy our own company and each other without the interruptions
of a lonely elderly narcissitic woman who cannot stop talking-- ever.

And so we settled down to ziti and canned sauce, and time some time alone to enjoy our solitude. On our evening
walk, the dog and I were treated to the sight of a red fox with pointy nose and a "ROwwww ROwww" bark running from
the water along Patton's land uphill and into the woods from which more barking was emitting. Dog stopped to smell
his tracks but did not appear interested in seeking out the vixen's den itself.

Sunday morning came and being happily unchurched, we did not make the trek to the only church on the island. Instead
we walked along Hamilton Beach where I collected broken shells for my garden plots back home, husband pointed out
the old dock pilings, and dog trotted joyfully along the sand and lapping bay water. The dog spied a family of
four endeavoring to provoke skin cancer sitting on the beach with goosebumps littering their exposed flesh and
immediately sought to endear herself to them by giving them the sheepdog stare and then running around them in
large expanding circles. She ran off to the water then and threw herself in, demonstrating to us her secret. She
indeed swim, and swims quite well. she just does not want to be forced to swim and after a couple tossing of a stick
figures we mustent really want the thing and refused to retrieve it for the two human fools who keep throwing it
away. But there is no stick tossing today. Just a happy dog having her first romp on the beach this season before
it fills up with summertime residents and their labs (it's a requirement) and the hapless hotel guests who have
difficulty locating the public access road to the beach. In truth there are many beaches but only the locals and
the summer folk know the ancient right-of-ways. And many are determined to keep those little woodsy jaunts a secret
from those who must be confined to using the public access road to the somewhat public beach.

Sunday afternoon found us two humans walking a mile or so up to Calder's to try the newest item on the
menu-- clam puffs. At 7.50 per half pound which works out to a bit over a dollar a clam, husband declared the puffs
to be doughy, a disappointment, and not worth the money. "I won't have that again," he declared as we meandered
over to the grocery store and then a second time to the neighbor woman whose own mother-in-law had killed herself
a few summers ago by jumping out of a window and who in my estimation was too damn skinny. "But their lobster rolls
are really good!" she told him. Over homemade chili later on when I observed the woman walking down the road I said
"She really is too skinny," my husband asked if I told her so. "No," I said stuffing my mouth with cornbread, "I
know what anorexics are like."

After dinner I went back to the Edward Abbey book I was enjoying before dinner and before I had dropped off for a nap.
Abbey's world is the desert and places that used to be, before being taken over by Industrial Tourism, a fate which
this island also seems destined for although in the extreme east rather than in the West. I respect Abbey a great
deal since he also was intimately acquainted with the insides of a bar in Hoboken and so I engrossed myself in stories
of the west that I myself had travelled through on the trains from Chicago to Flagstaff with stops inbetween on a trip
that I had taken a few years back alone.

Of Dogs, Smells, and Robberies: Version Two

2009-05-15T16:37:00.002-04:00

The warmish weather has come about two weeks early in the foothills of the Adirondacks this year. I knew this to be so when I first saw the red-wing blackbirds flocking at the feeders. Shortly after, grackles made their presence known and grass began turning green. The artificially neon green no-bugs-or-violets lawn people were out in their trucks spraying all signs of life out of the yards of the people on either side of us. Ticks came out in the woods followed very closely by mosquitoes and ants.

A few days ago, the dog and we set out for a meander through a little trail nearby. All went well until the very end when she sprinted off, running all out up a hill. She came back stinking.

Oatmeal doggie shampoo and bribe (large doggie biscuit) were purchased on the way home. Once there, bedroom door was closed and our smelly victim was lifted into the bathtub. Thus here are the directions for washing my dog:

1. Dog finds something stinky and rolls in it thoroughly.
2. Dog is brought home in a car with all windows opens and human occupants gagging.
3. Dog is coaxed to the bathroom.
4. Dog watches with fear and trepidation as the bathroom door is closed and locked.
5. Dog cowers as the bathtub water is drawn.
6. Dog is deposited into the bathtub by two humans.
7. Dog is washed down with tepid water.
8. Dog curses and tries to get out of tub.
9. Dog is shampooed with smelly oatmeal doggie shampoo.
10. Dog is rinsed off and tries to escape again.
11. Dog is allowed to bolt out of the bathtub.
12. Dog heads for the backdoor and is presented with her biscuit.
13. Dog runs outside and rolls all over the backyard real turf, getting thoroughly muddy.
14. Dog rolls in grass some more.
15. Dog eats biscuit.
16. Dog rolls herself with vigor, covering herself with wholesome foothill Adirondack mud.
17. Dog begs to be let in.
18. Dog drinks water inside as one human wipes most of the mud off dog with a towel.
19. Dog throws herself at various pieces of the furniture in the living room.
20. Dog ignores the protests of the humans sitting in the living room.
21. Dog is satisfied that she has shared mud and water with all living and non-living beings.
22. Dog allows the two cats in residence to approach, sniff, and lick dog.
23. Dog goes to sleep for several hours.

One of my relatives had a German Shepard Dog named Kingy. He was perfectly and admirably trained. In particular, I remember him being put on a sit-stay with the food bowl right in front of him. Kingy would not touch the food until released. Too bad his guard training fell short at a critical time.

Kingy slept in the center of the hallway at night, chained to the wall by a leash. If he minded, he never acted like he had. At any rate, he slept through the house robbery. The crook had gotten away with about seven thousand dollars in cash and exited through the front door. In order to get to the room with the cash in it, the crook had to literally step over the sleeping dog. In order to get to the stairs leading to the front door, the crook again had to step over Kingy.

Kingy did have a fondness for turkey. Or, rather I guess he was an opportunist. One Thanksgiving left alone in the house for about an hour, Kingy demolished an entire turkey left on the kitchen table. (Someone in the family was on their deathbed. Death is never convenient). I don't recall what we had to eat that night instead of the missing turkey. Kingy was a smart dog, that is for sure. He had elected to forego the inconvenience of waking up during a robbery and actually having to attack a stranger in favor of seizing a bird on a table. Can't say I blame him.

To the best of my recall, Kingy never got to run in the woods wrapping himself in stink. Nor did he go on walks around the neighborhood. Times were different then. If there were any folks like Caesar Milan around, their knowledge about the things that dogs needed didn't get transmitted to us.

Kingy also never suffered the indignity of an oatmeal shampoo bath either. Of the two, I think perhaps that my dog has the better deal.

Doggie Bathtime

2009-05-09T14:13:00.002-04:00

The warmish weather has come about two weeks early in the foothills of the Adirondacks this year. I knew this to be so when I first saw the red-wing blackbirds flocking at the feeders. Shortly after, grackles made their presence known and grass began turning green. The artificially neon green no-bugs-or-violets lawn people were out in their trucks spraying all signs of life out of the yards of the people on either side of us. Ticks came out in the woods followed very closely by mosquitoes and ants.

Today, the dog and we set out for a meander through a little trail nearby. All went well until the very end when she sprinted off, running all out up a hill. She came back stinking.

Oatmeal doggie shampoo and bribe (large doggie biscuit) were purchased on the way home. Once there, bedroom door was closed and our smelly victim was lifted into the bathtub. Thus here are the directions for washing my dog:

1. Dog finds something stinky and rolls in it thoroughly.
2. Dog is brought home in a car with all windows opens and human occupants gagging.
3. Dog is coaxed to the bathroom.
4. Dog watches with fear and trepidation as the bathroom door is closed and locked.
5. Dog cowers as the bathtub water is drawn.
6. Dog is deposited into the bathtub by two humans.
7. Dog is washed down with tepid water.
8. Dog curses and tries to get out of tub.
9. Dog is shampooed with smelly oatmeal doggie shampoo.
10. Dog is rinsed off and tries to escape again.
11. Dog is allowed to bolt out of the bathtub.
12. Dog heads for the backdoor and is presented with her biscuit.
13. Dog runs outside and rolls all over the backyard real turf, getting thoroughly muddy.
14. Dog rolls in grass some more.
15. Dog eats biscuit.
16. Dog rolls herself with vigor, covering herself with wholesome foothill Adirondack mud.
17. Dog begs to be let in.
18. Dog drinks water inside as one human wipes most of the mud off dog with a towel.
19. Dog throws herself at various pieces of the furniture in the living room.
20. Dog ignores the protests of the humans sitting in the living room.
21. Dog is satisfied that she has shared mud and water with all living and non-living beings.
22. Dog allows the two cats in residence to approach, sniff, and lick dog.
23. Dog goes to sleep for several hours.

The two cats in residence have just informed me that they do not wish to be left out of this post. They rarely need a bath.
Here are directions for bathing my two cats:

1. Run bathtub water.
2. Cats jump into the bathtub and wait for human to get with it.
3. Human (only one is required) wets, shampoos, and rinses cats.
4. Cats study the water going down the drain, refusing to get out of the tub.
5. Cats reluctantly leave the tub and lick themselves dry.

Yes, I know my cats are unusual. Both cats have always been fascinated by their humans' preoccupation with bathtub and shower. Both have watched the humans take showers and bubble baths. Both have dips paws and tails into the water willingly and splashed at their humans. Both have watched the water draining. Neither one objects to being immersed in water up to their chest. Neither one of them have ever rolled in something stinky. (Both are indoor cats).

And both cats will let me clip their nails without complaint. The dog objects to having her paws fussed with. The last dog objected to having his ass sniffed by other dogs. Now that was a problem.

sapphoq n friends

Happy Christmas 12/24/08

2008-12-24T14:40:00.000-05:00

Dear People,

I am sorry I haven't been here once again.
I fell several weeks ago while walking-- landed flat on my back-- and fell again three days after that. Actually I fainted after a shower. I fell on my right side but fortunately had protected my head with my arm.

My back, which wasn't great due to the motor vehicle accident I'd been in that also gave me the traumatic brain injury, is now a spasming mess on the right side. Can't hardly bend to the right, can't move the right arm out to reach all that much, can't get in or out of a chair without extreme pain and difficulty.

Two trips to the doc resulted in a script for physical therapy which I am glad to say I will be starting next week. The muscle spasms in my back aren't bad as long as I don't breathe, shift positions, or move in any way. Traction is beginning to look like something desirable.

I will be back when I can. Meanwhile:

1). Happy Christmas and happy everything else too,
2). I hope that the president-elect is able to help the u.s.a. out of the mess we are in but I sorta think we are screwed anyways,
3). I saw two pileated woodpeckers the other day pecking on a telephone pole while they were hanging upside down. Very beautiful.

Be well my friends. And if you can't be well, then be weller.

spike

Stark

2008-11-12T13:29:00.002-05:00

Yesterday the dog and I went walking along the old canal tow path. I heard the peepers and some crows. There was also something hiding a large navy body in the swamp grass-- possibly a gallinule or some similar rail bird. I didn't know the peepers were still out. I felt the light dancing of rain against my face. I saw three blue jays, one beautiful female cardinal, and a dead wolf-like animal along the side of the road coming back.

sapphoq n friends

Reeling in Pain

2008-10-27T09:38:00.000-04:00

Dear Little Sister,

Dad went for his two hour evaluation at Sunnyview Hospital for his
driving today.
He had some sitdown tests and then he and the evaluator went out
driving for 45 minutes.

Although Dad's reaction time is above average for his age,
he has visual inattention, poor visual scanning, poor color
discrimination, depth perception and

peripheral vision losses, poor impulse control all which indicate that
he should not be driving at all.

It was obvious to me during the pen and paper testing that Dad does have
some cognitive losses, memory losses (can't remember three words a few

minutes later-- 2 out of 3), sequencing difficulties (drawing lines
dot to dot in order
and serial sevens), has visual discrimination problems (multitude of
examples throughout

the testing and not able to be corrected by glasses) and his distance
vision corrected
is 20/40 (near for reading corrected is 20/30).

When the evaluator took him driving, she had to grab the wheel at one point
in order to prevent Dad from turning in front of another vehicle.

There were other problems with the driving also:
high distractibility, driving 15 mph below the speed limit at some points,

stopping too soon before a red light, allowing someone at a stop sign to
proceed through even though Dad himself didn't have a stop sign in
front of him...

and other stuff. The driving evaluator told Dad emphatically and several
times in several different ways that the time for him to quit driving is NOW.

His safety while driving is inconsistent. The fact that he was at one time an
excellent driver shows however it is about 50/50 right now. During the

45 minute driving session he was either excellent for 50 percent of the time
and totally unsafe the other 50 percent.

Dad did not take this news very well (as was expected-- who would?) and
does not wish to talk about it yet. He did allow me to drive home and to

the diner for lunch. He also does not want to talk about his own dad
who died in a car crash in Florida when I was in second grade.

The evaluator is not allowed to send the results to motor vehicles but
she is forwarding the results to George (our primary care doc) who is

supposed to write Dad a letter. I will see if I can get him to go see George
to talk about it without me there. Dad really needs to see a neurodoc

(fortunately there is an excellent neurodoc in Albany who is an expert
on dementias and is also informed about traumatic brain injuries)

at this point so we can get a definitive diagnosis on exactly what type of
dementia he is having (or if it is an undiagnosed brain injury from one of his

accidents?) and then the proper medication for the kind of dementia it is.
The proper meds are specific to what kind of dementia as some meds are

counter-indicated in some types of dementia but work well for others.
I am going to inquire about trains since there is a station in Montvale and

there are decidedly times when Dad wants to go to New Jersey without me.
Also because of my own brain injury I really have to stop at every rest area

or every other rest area on any trip longer than 45 minutes. So at this point
unless the State of New Jersey steps in and pulls the license, I really can't

stop Dad from driving. At least we know definitively and from an objective
source that Dad should not be driving at all.

It is bad news for sure, more evidence that Dad is not well neurologically.
Hard for us to hear and go through. Even harder for him.

Love,
spike

Monday Meme

2008-08-18T12:37:00.000-04:00

http://www.blogthings.com/whathandgestureareyouquiz/
I am...

You Are a Peace Sign

Your life philosophy can be summed up as, "Take it easy." Your greatest wish is to have a world with less conflict and suffering.In your everyday life, you are empathetic and caring.You do your best to keep the peace, even when other people aren't cooperating.

What Hand Gesture Are You?

Spike's Wishes

2008-08-13T09:05:00.000-04:00

Spike's Wishes for All of Us:

Oh that today we not afraid of our essential solitude!
That we are able to extract what joy there may be in life today wherever we may be.
For life is sacred and we don't really know how long we have here.
Let us celebrate life deeply.

Wherever we are, that we don't have too many regrets over what could have been.
That when we are stuck, we remember that we have options even if we do not know recognize them yet.
Knowing that all of us are capable of great things that go unacknowledged,
That we will find those great things and do them anyway.

Oh that we embrace all of who we are!
That we love carefully and selectively and honestly.
That we do not negate our selves for the benefit of others
who would use and abuse us.

To know as much happiness as we have known pain,
as much love as we have known hatred,
as much comfort as we have known heartbreak.
That we keep striving until we can strive no more.

spike

*posting from a library in the middle of nowhere island maine.
*will be back in civ Sunday night.

Dear Asswipe 7/5/08

2008-08-05T16:31:00.000-04:00

A big fuck you going out to V.E.S.I.D. for operational failure.
Taking the side of the stoopid job developer in demanding I get a "return to work" note for a vertigo attack-- bovine fecal matter.
Furthermore, as far as "return to work," what work?
Screw off.
If you aren't going to help me, then get the fuck out of my way.

No love,
the traumatic brain-injury malcontent on your overflowing caseload.

The Nursing Home

2008-07-31T21:51:00.001-04:00

A man took his elderly father to a nursing home to check it out. He sat his father down on a sofa in the main aisle way and went to talk with the administrators.
The old man started to tilt slowly toward the left. A Doctor came by and said, "Let me help you." The Doctor piled several pillows on the left side of the old man so he would stay upright.
The older man started to tilt slowly to the right. An orderly noticed and put several more pillows on his right side to keep him upright.
The old man started to lean forward when a nurse came by and piled several pillows in front of him. About this time, the son returned.
"Well, Dad, isn't this a nice place."
The old man replied, "I guess it's ok,
but they won't let me fart."

a big shout-out to the folks at the Comedy Club

Author Unknown: from an e-mail going around

2008-07-31T00:53:00.001-04:00

Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest,
And all of us seniors were looking our best.
Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry;
Our punch bowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.
A bed sock was taped to each walker; in hope
That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.
We surely were lucky to be there with friends,
Secure in this residence and in our Depends.

Our grandkids had sent us some Christmassy crafts,
Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.
The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,
And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath.

The bedpans, so shiny, all stood in a row,
Reflecting our candle's magnificent glow.
Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop --
Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.

Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great,
Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.
The social director then had us play games,
Like "Where Are You Living?" And "What Are Your Names?"

Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,
Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.
Our resident wanderer was tied to her chair,
In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.

Security lights on the new fallen snow
Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.
Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter
But we were so deaf that it just didn't matter.

A strange little fellow flew in through the door,
Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.
'Twas just our director, all togged out in red.
He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.

We knew from the way that he strutted and jived
Our social security checks had surely arrived.
We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak,
Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight-p.m. Stroke.

And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds.
While nurses distributed nocturnal meds.
And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest.
'fore long you'll be with us, we wish you the best

More Little Johnnies

2008-07-31T00:46:00.002-04:00

Little Johnnie was talking to her teacher about whales.

The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small.

Little Johnnie stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale.

Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible.

Little Johnnie said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah".

The teacher asked, "What if Jonah went to hell?"

Little Johnnie replied, "Then you ask him".

***

A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child's work.

As she got to
Little Johnnie who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was.

Little Johnnie replied, "I'm drawing God."

The teacher paused and said, "But no one knows what God looks like."

Little Johnnie replied, "They will in a minute."

***

A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds.

After explaining the commandment to "honor" thy Father and thy Mother, she asked, "Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?"

Little Johnnie answered, "Thou shall not kill."

***

One day
Little Johnnie was sitting and watching his mother do the dishes at the kitchen sink. He suddenly noticed that his mother had several strands of white hair sticking out in contrast on her brunette head.

He looked at his mother and inquisitively asked, "Why are some of your hairs white, Mom?"

His mother replied, "Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of my hairs turns white."

Little Johnnie thought about this revelation for a while and then said, "Momma, how come ALL of grandma's hairs are white?"

***

The children had all been photographed, and the teacher was trying to persuade them each to buy a copy of the group picture.

"Just think how nice it will be to look at it when you are all grown up and say, 'There's Jennifer, she's a lawyer,' or 'That's Michael, He's a doctor.'

Little Johnnie's voice at the back of the room rang out, "And there's the teacher, she's dead."

***

A teacher was giving a lesson on the circulation of the blood. Trying to make the matter clearer, she said, "Now, class, if I stood on my head, the blood, as you know, would run into it, and I would turn red in the face."

"Yes," the class said.

"Then why is it that while I am standing upright in the ordinary position the blood doesn't run into my feet?"

Little Johnnie shouted, "Cause your feet ain't empty."

***

The children were lined up in the cafeteria of a Catholic elementary school for lunch. At the head of the table was a large pile of apples. The nun made a note, and posted on the apple tray: "Take only ONE God is watching."

Moving further along the lunch line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of chocolate chip cookies.

Little Johnnie had written a note, "Take all you want. God is watching the apples."

Showers of the Sexes

2008-07-31T00:38:00.002-04:00

HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A WOMAN

1). Take off clothing and place it in sectioned laundry hamper according to lights and darks.
2). Walk to the bathroom wearing long dressing gown. If you see your husband along the way, cover up any exposed flesh and rush to the bathroom.
3). Look at your womanly physique in the mirror and stick out your gut so that you can whine about how you're getting fat.

4). Get in the shower, look for face cloth, long loofah, and pumice stone.
5). Wash your hair with Cucumber and Lamfrey shampoo with 83 added vitamins.
6). Wash your hair again with Cucumber and Lamfrey shampoo with 83 added vitamins.

7). Condition your hair with Cucumber and Lamfrey conditioner.
8) . Wash your face with crushed apricot facial scrub for ten minutes until red raw.
9). Wash entire rest of body with Ginger Nut and Jaffra cake body wash.

10). Rinse conditioner off hair (taking fifteen minutes to make sure it has all come off).
11). Shave armpits and legs.
12). Scream loudly when your husband flushes the toilet and you lose the water pressure and temperature changes.

13). Turn off the shower.
14). Squeegee off all the wet surfaces in the shower. Spray mold spots with Tilex.
15). Get out of shower and dry with towel the size of a small African country. Wrap hair in super absorbent second towel.

16) . Check entire body for remotest sign of a zit. Attack with nails/tweezers if found.
17). Return to bedroom wearing long dressing gown and towel on head.
18) . If you see your husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas and then rush to bedroom to spend an hour and a half getting dressed.

HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A MAN
1). Take off clothes while sitting on the edge of the bed and leave them in a pile.
2). Walk naked to the bathroom. If you see your wife along the way shake your wiener at her making the "Woo" sound.
3). Look at your manly physique in the mirror and suck in your gut to see if you have pecs (no). Admire the size of your wiener in the mirror.

4). Scratch your privates and smell your fingers for one last whiff.
5). Get in the shower.
6). Don't bother to look for a washcloth (you don't use one).

7). Wash your face.
8). Wash your armpits.
9). Crack up at how loud your fart sounds in the shower.

10). Wash your privates and surrounding area.
11). Wash you butt, leaving hair on soap bar.
12). Shampoo your hair (do not use conditioner).

13). Make a shampoo Mohawk of your hair..
14). Pull back shower curtain and look at yourself in the mirror.
15). Pee (in the shower).

16). Rinse off and get out of the shower. Fail to notice water on the floor because you left the curtain hanging out of the tub the whole time.
17). Partially dry off.
18). Look at yourself in the mirror, flex muscles. Admire wiener size again.

19). Leave shower curtain open and wet bath mat on the floor.
20). Leave bathroom fan and light on.
21). Return to the bedroom with towel around your waist. If you pass your wife, pull off the towel, grab your wiener, go "Yeah baby" and thrust your pelvis at her.

22). Throw wet towel on the bed. Take two minutes to get dressed.

Santa in Ozland

2008-07-31T00:29:00.003-04:00

Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?

A man and his wife went to bed one night and the man was getting very frisky and asked his wife if she was in the mood.

His wife answered "not tonight dear I have a headache".

The man replied "is that your final answer"? She said "yes".

The man said, "Ok, then I'd like to phone a friend".

What Will You Have?

An angry wife was complaining about her husband spending so much time at the pub, so one night he took her along.

"What'll ya have?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know. The same as you, I suppose," she replied.

So the husband ordered a couple of Jack Daniel's and threw his down in one gulp.

His wife watched him, then took a sip from her glass and immediately spit it out. "Yuck, that's nasty poison!" she spluttered. "I don't know how you can drink this stuff!"

"Well, there you go," cried the husband. "And you think I'm out enjoying myself every night!"

Randoms

After a few days, the Lord said to Adam: "It's time to start populating the earth, go behind a bush with Eve and kiss her."
"What's a kiss?" asked Adam.
So the Lord gave a brief description, and Adam took Eve behind a bush, and emerged a few minutes later and said to the Lord: "That was quite enjoyable."
And the Lord said: "Yes, Adam, I thought you might enjoy that. Now, go and caress Eve."
"What's a caress?' asked Adam.
So the Lord gave a brief description, and Adam took Eve behind a bush, and emerged a few minutes later and said to the Lord: "That was even more enjoyable than the kiss."
And the Lord said: "You've done well, Adam, now it is time to make love to Eve."
"What is 'make love,' Lord?"
So the Lord gave a brief description, and Adam took Eve behind a bush, but this time he emerged in two seconds and said: "Lord, what's a headache?"

Adam and Eve had an ideal marriage.
He didn't have to hear about all the men she could have married,
and she didn't have to hear about the way his mother cooked.
____________________________________________

An elderly woman died last month. Having never married,she requested no male pallbearers.
In her handwritten instructions for her memorial service, she wrote,
"They wouldn't take me out while I was alive, I don't want them to take me out when I'm dead.
____________________________________________

A police recruit was asked during the exam, "What would you do if you had to arrest your own mother?"
He said, "Call for backup."
____________________________________________

A Sunday school teacher asked the children just before she dismissed them to go to church,
"And why is it necessary to be quiet in church?" Annie replied, "Because people are sleeping."
____________________________________________

A Sunday School teacher asked her class why Joseph and Mary took Jesus with them to Jerusalem.
A small child replied: "They couldn't get a baby-sitter."
_____________________________________________

A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds.
After explaining the commandment to "honor thy father and thy mother," she asked
"Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?"
Without missing a beat one little boy answered, "Thou shall not kill."
_____________________________________________

At Sunday School they were teaching how God created everything, including human beings.
Little Johnny seemed especially intent when they told him how Eve was created out of one of Adam's ribs.
Later in the week his mother noticed him lying down as though he were ill, and said, Johnny what is the matter?
Little Johnny responded, "I have a pain in my side. I think I'm going to have a wife."
_____________________________________________

A very dirty little fellow came in from playing in the yard and asked his mother, "Who am I? "
Ready to play the game she said, "I don't know! Who are you?"
"WOW!" cried the child. "Mrs. Johnson was right! She said I was so dirty, my own mother wouldn't recognize me!"
_____________________________________________

A wise schoolteacher sends this note to all parents on the first day of school:
"If you promise not to believe everything your child says happens at school, I'll promise not to believe everything he says happens at home.

Exercise for Older Adults

Begin by standing on a comfortable surface, where you have plenty of
room at each side. With a 5-lb potato sack in each hand, extend your
Arms straight out from your sides and hold them there as long as you
can.
Try to reach a full minute, and then relax.

Each day, you'll find that you can hold this position for just a bit
longer. After a couple of weeks, move up to 10-lb potato sacks. Then
try 50-lb potato sacks and then eventually try to get to where you can
lift a 100-lb potato sack in each hand and hold your arms straight for more
than a full minute. (I'm at this level)

After you feel confident at that level, put a potato in each of the
sacks.

And Finally...

Santa Clauses in Australia were advised to say, "Ha Ha Ha," in Australia instead of "Ho Ho Ho."
Why you might ask?
Cuz the word "ho" refers to prostitutes in the United States.
It has been reported that some Santas had the good sense to refuse.

sapphoq n friends

Host Hostage has been lolCatified by Owlmirror

2008-07-13T02:46:00.000-04:00

[http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/2008/07/fyi.php#comment-980385]
Below is an excellent rendition of Wafergate which has been LOLCatified by the Illustrious Owlmirror.
(sapphoq reviews says: full of win!)

The following was copied and pasted from Owlmirror's comment over at P.Z. Meyer's science blog:

Being aware of All Internet Traditions™, I think we all know that no Internet Phenomenon is complete until it has been properly LOLCATIFIED.

Thus, we present for ur lolz:

WAFERGATE

CEILING CATLOLIC IS WATCHING YOU MASTICATE

Act I, Scene I
University of Central Florida, Catholic Chapel

PRIEST: JEBUS HAS A FLAVR!

PARISHIONER 1: I CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKER?
PRIEST: YES, YOU CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKER.
PARISHIONER 1: NOM NOM NOM

PARISHIONER 2: I CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKER?
PRIEST: YES, YOU CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKER.
PARISHIONER 2: NOM NOM NOM

PARISHIONER 3: I CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKER?
PRIEST: YES, YOU CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKER.
PARISHIONER 3: NOM NOM NOM

WEBSTER COOK: I CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKER?
PRIEST: YES, YOU CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKER.
WEBSTER COOK: YAY, JEBUS CRACKER SOOVENEER!
PRIEST: WAIT, WHUT?
WEBSTER COOK: KTHXBYE

PARISHIONERS: NO! YOU NO CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKER! NOT YOURS!

WEBSTER COOK: FEETS DON'T FAIL ME NOW

PARISHIONERS: OMGWTFBBQ!!!!!
PARISHIONERS: NOOOOOOO! HE BE STEALIN OUR JEBUS CRACKER!!!

Act II, Scene I
Diocese of Orlando

GONZALEZ: HALP! JEBUS CRACKER IS KIDNAPPED!
SUSAN FANI: STEALIN JEBUS CRACKER IS HAET CRIEM!

Act II, Scene II
Catholic League

DONAHUE: STEALIN JEBUS CRACKER IS TERRIBLE HAET CRIEM!
DONAHUE: EXPUL-SION-ATE! EXPUL-SION-ATE! EXPUL-SION-ATE!

Act III, Scene I
University of Central Florida

EMAIL TO WEBSTER COOK: WE SAD
EMAIL TO WEBSTER COOK: WE WANT JEBUS CRACKER
EMAIL TO WEBSTER COOK: WE MAD
EMAIL TO WEBSTER COOK: WE WANT JEBUS CRACKER
EMAIL TO WEBSTER COOK: WE FIND YOU
EMAIL TO WEBSTER COOK: WE RESCUE JEBUS CRACKER
EMAIL TO WEBSTER COOK: WE BRAEK IN
EMAIL TO WEBSTER COOK: WE RESCUE JEBUS CRACKER
EMAIL TO WEBSTER COOK: WE KEEELL YOU
EMAIL TO WEBSTER COOK: WE RESCUE JEBUS CRACKER
WEBSTER COOK: DO! NOT!! WANT!!!

Act III, Scene II
University of Central Florida

WEBSTER COOK: DO NOT WANT JEBUS CRACKER. TAEK IT.
PARISHIONERS: YAY! WE CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKER!
PARISHIONERS: WE GET COPS TO GAURD JEBUS CRACKERS NOW.
WEBSTER COOK: WTF?

Act IV, Scene I
Pharyngula Headquarters

PZ MYERS: WTFBBQ!!!
PZ MYERS: CATLOLICS GO APESHIT OVER JEBUS CRACKER!
PZ MYERS: IT'S A ~~GODDAMN~~ FRACKIN' CRACKER!
PZ MYERS: TEH STUPID, IT BURNZ!
PZ MYERS: WANT CAN HAS JEBUS CRACKERS!
PZ MYERS: DE-SE-CRATE! DE-SE-CRATE! DE-SE-CRATE!

PHARYNGULA: LOL
PHARYNGULA: SAD CATHOLICS ARE SAD
PHARYNGULA: CONCERN TROLLS ARE CONCERNED
PHARYNGULA: ANGER TROLLS ARE ANGRY
PHARYNGULA: HATE TROLLS ARE HATIN
PHARYNGULA: SOCKPUPPETS ARE SAD+CONCERNED+ANGRY+HATIN
PHARYNGULA: WTF! SOMEONE IS WRONG ON TEH INTERNETS!
PHARYNGULA: THEY SEE US SCOFFIN, THEY HATIN
PHARYNGULA: (Repeat above 1000 tiems)
SCIENCE BLOGS PHARYNGULA DATABASE: AAAAOOOOOGAAAAH! OVERLOAD!
SCIENCE BLOGS PHARYNGULA DATABASE: ERROR 500 SERVER ERROR!
PZ MYERS: WTF! NEW THREAD.

Act IV, Scene II
Catholic League

DONAHUE: DESECRATIN JEBUS CRACKER IS WORSE THAN HAYT CRIEM!
DONAHUE: EXPUL-SION-ATE! EXPUL-SION-ATE! EXPUL-SION-ATE!

Act IV, Scene III
Pharyngula Headquarters

PZ MYERS: WILLAIM DONAHUE IS DEMENTED
PZ MYERS: PHARYNGULA! HALP!
PHARYNGULA: PZ MYERS IS TEH AWE SUM!
PHARYNGULA: SAD CATHOLICS ARE SAD
PHARYNGULA: CONCERN TROLLS ARE CONCERNED
PHARYNGULA: ANGER TROLLS ARE ANGRY
PHARYNGULA: HATE TROLLS ARE HATIN
PHARYNGULA: SOCKPUPPETS ARE SAD+CONCERNED+ANGRY+HATIN
PHARYNGULA: WTF! SOMEONE IS WRONG ON TEH INTERNETS!
PHARYNGULA: THEY SEE US SCOFFIN, THEY HATIN
PHARYNGULA: (Repeat above 1000 tiems)
SCIENCE BLOGS PHARYNGULA DATABASE: AAAAOOOOOGAAAAH! OVERLOAD!
SCIENCE BLOGS PHARYNGULA DATABASE: ERROR 500 SERVER ERROR!
PZ MYERS: WTF! NEW THREAD.

Act IV, Scene IV
Pharyngula Headquarters

PHARYNGULA: ~~SECOND~~ ~~THIRD~~ ~~FOURTH~~ FIFTH VERSE, SAME AS TEH FIRST
PZ MYERS: HEY! SOCKPUPPETS! GET OFF OF MY LAWN!
PHARYNGULA: (REPEAT SUM MOAR)

TEH END.......?

Posted by: Owlmirror | July 12, 2008 4:37 PM

http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/2008/07/fyi.php#comment-980385

Discordian Funnies

2008-07-13T01:53:00.002-04:00

A big shout-out to the Discordian Dude over at
http://www.maui.net/~discord/eris/text/humor.txt
for this one, copied and pasted word for word from there:

Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson went on a camping trip. After a  good

meal and a bottle of wine they lay down for the night, and went to sleep.



Some hours later, Holmes awoke and nudged his faithful friend.

"Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see."



Watson replied, "I see millions and millions of stars."



"What does that tell you?"



Watson pondered for a minute. "Astronomically, it tells me that there

are millions of  galaxies  and potentially billions of planets.

Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo.  Horologically, I

deduce that the time is approximately a  quarter  past  three.

Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful and that we  are

small and insignificant. Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have

a beautiful day tomorrow. . . .   What does it tell you?"



Holmes was silent for a minute, then spoke.  "Watson, you dope.

Somebody has stolen our tent."

and for this one:

Close-to-complete Ideology and Religion Shit List

Taoism: Shit happens.

Confucianism: Confucius say, "Shit happens."

Buddhism: If shit happens, it isn't really shit.

Zen Buddhism: Shit is, and is not.

Zen Buddhism #2: What is the sound of shit happening?

Hinduism: This shit has happened before.

Islam: If shit happens, it is the will of Allah.

Islam #2: If shit happens, kill the person responsible.

Islam #3: If shit happens, blame Israel.

Catholicism: If shit happens, you deserve it.

Protestantism: Let shit happen to someone else.

Presbyterian: This shit was bound to happen.

Episcopalian: It's not so bad if shit happens, as long as you serve the right wine with it.

Methodist: It's not so bad if shit happens, as long as you serve grape juice with it.

Congregationalist: Shit that happens to one person is just as good as shit that happens to another.

Unitarian: Shit that happens to one person is just as bad as shit that happens to another.

Lutheran: If shit happens, don't talk about it.

Fundamentalism: If shit happens, you will go to hell, unless you are born again. (Amen!)

Fundamentalism #2: If shit happens to a televangelist, it's okay.

Fundamentalism #3: Shit must be born again.

Judaism: Why does this shit always happen to us?

Calvinism: Shit happens because you don't work.

Seventh Day Adventism: No shit shall happen on Saturday.

Creationism: God made all shit.

Secular Humanism: Shit evolves.

Christian Science: When shit happens, don't call a doctor - pray!

Christian Science #2: Shit happening is all in your mind.

Unitarianism: Come let us reason together about this shit.

Quakers: Let us not fight over this shit.

Utopianism: This shit does not stink.

Darwinism: This shit was once food.

Capitalism: That's MY shit.

Communism: It's everybody's shit.

Feminism: Men are shit.

Chauvinism: We may be shit, but you can't live without us...

Commercialism: Let's package this shit.

Impressionism: From a distance, shit looks like a garden.

Idolism: Let's bronze this shit.

Existentialism: Shit doesn't happen; shit IS.

Existentialism #2: What is shit, anyway?

Stoicism: This shit is good for me.

Hedonism: There is nothing like a good shit happening!

Mormonism: God sent us this shit.

Mormonism #2: This shit is going to happen again.

Wiccan: An it harm none, let shit happen.

Scientology: If shit happens, see "Dianetics", p.157.

Jehovah's Witnesses: >Knock< >Knock<>

Jehovah's Witnesses #2: May we have a moment of your time to show you some of our shit?

Jehovah's Witnesses #3: Shit has been prophesied and is imminent; only the righteous shall survive its happening.

Moonies: Only really happy shit happens.

Hare Krishna: Shit happens, rama rama.

Rastafarianism: Let's smoke this shit!

Zoroastrianism: Shit happens half on the time.

Church of SubGenius: BoB shits.

Practical: Deal with shit one day at a time.

Agnostic: Shit might have happened; then again, maybe not.

Agnostic #2: Did someone shit?

Agnostic #3: What is this shit?

Satanism: SNEPPAH TIHS.

Atheism: What shit?

Atheism #2: I can't believe this shit!

Nihilism: No shit.

Discordian #1: Who gives a shit?

It's been real. It's been fun. It's even been real fun.

Google Search Meme

2008-07-11T19:17:00.000-04:00

snagged from

merlinwon
a blogging buddy on Live Journal

Type in what the questions ask you into google search and use the first thing that comes up as your answer.

1. Type in "[your name] needs" in the Google search:
2. Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google search:
3. Type in "[your name] likes" in Google search:
4. Type in "[your name] says" in Google search:
5. Type in "[your name] wants" in Google search:
6. Type in "[your name] does" in Google search:
7. Type in "[your name] hates" in Google search
8. Type in "[your name] goes" in Google search:
9. Type in "[your name] loves" in Google search:
10. Type in "[your name] has" in Google search:
11. Type in "[your name] gets" in the Google search:
12. Type in "[your name] eats" in the Google search:
13. Type in "[your name] can" in the Google search:
14. Type in "[your name] drinks" in the Google search:
15. Type in "[your name] makes" in the Google search:

and my results

Spike needs to give "Carpocalypse" to another station.
spike looks like a bubble about to burst
SPiKE LiKES blends sensible design fundamentals with exceptional creativity.
SPIKE SAYS, "The Man Is Not My Father!"
Spike wants the girl.
Spike does [the] right thing.
Spike hates chickens.
Spike goes to Venice.
Spike loves Luke.
Spike has wide economic impact
.Spike gets more macho.
Spike eats a worm.
Spike can copy word revisions.
Spike drinks at home.
Spike makes [her] bones.

Modded

Spike needs...another station, [another selection, or to change the channel].
Spike looks like a bubble about to burst.
Spike likes the sensible, [the practical, the logical].
Spike says, "This man is not my father."
Spike wants the girl.
Spike does the right thing.
Spike hates chickens [who lack guts and fortitude].
Spike goes to Venice [in her dreams].
Spike loves Luke.
Spike has wide economic impact.
Spike gets more macho.
Spike [has never] eat[en] a worm.
Spike can...revise [words].
Spike drinks [diet soda] at home.
Spike makes [no] bones [about it].

Revised

Spike loves Luke but she wants the girl.
She makes no bones about it.
It is the girl she wants, not Luke.

In her dreams, spike sweeps the young woman
off her feet and they fly off to Mexico for a holiday.
Or perhaps to San Francisco, San Diego, Montreal.

Spike has been accused of being macho,
called a bull-dyke, or a chicken before
but she does not shrug from doing the right thing.

She is sensible, practical, and logical.
She knows that when it comes to straights
the fantasy is better than the reality.

She stays home, drinking diet soda
and watching a corny movie where the heroine says,
"This man is not my father."

Sighing, she changes the station.
Then she takes out the latest manuscript
and revises the words. She dreams

of making a huge splash, an impact.
She dreams of making it big
in books and in love.

Little Johnnie Jokes

2008-06-26T23:17:00.004-04:00

a big shout-out to Trasa

A teacher asks her class, "If there are 5 birds sitting on a fence and you shoot one of them, how many will be left?"
She calls on little Johnnie.
He replies, "None, they will all fly away with the first gunshot."
The teacher replies, "The correct answer is 4, but I like your thinking."
Then little Johnnie says, "I have a question for YOU.
There are 3 women sitting on a bench having ice cream:
One is delicately licking the sides of the triple scoop of ice cream.
The second is gobbling down the top and sucking the cone.
The third is biting off the top of the ice cream.
Which one is married?"
The teacher, blushing a great deal, replied, "Well, I suppose the one that's gobbled down the top and sucked the cone."
To which Little Johnnie replied, "The correct answer is 'the one with the wedding ring on,' but I like your thinking."

Little Johnnie returns from school and says he got an F in arithmetic.
"Why?" asks the father.
"The teacher asked 'How much is 2x3,'and I said '6'", replies Little Johnnie.
"But that's right!" says his dad.
"Yeah, but then she asked me, 'How much is 3x2?'"
"What's the f...... difference?" asks the father.
"That's what I said!"

Little Johnnie goes to school, and the teacher says, "Today we are going to learn multi-syllable words, class. Does anybody have an example of a multi-syllable word?"
Little Johnnie says "Mas-tur-bate."
The teacher smiles and says, "Wow, little Johnnie, that's a mouthful."
Little Johnnie says, "No teacher, you're thinking of a blowjob."

All of a sudden, little Johnnie needed to go to the toilet.
He yelled out, "Teacher, I need to take a piss!!"
The teacher replied, "Now little Johnnie, that is NOT the proper word to use in this situation.
The correct word you want to use is 'urinate.'
Please use the word 'ur-i-nate' in a sentence correctly, and
I will allow you to go."
Little Johnnie thinks for a bit, and then says, "You're an eight, but if
you had bigger tits, you'd be a TEN!"

One day, during lessons on proper grammar, the teacher asked for a show of hands from those who could use the word 'beautiful' in the same sentence twice.
First, she called on Suzie, who responded with, "My father bought mother a beautiful dress and she looked beautiful in it."
"Very good, Suzie," replied the teacher. She then called on Michael.
"My mommy planned a beautiful banquet and it turned out beautifully."
She said, "Excellent, Michael." Then the teacher reluctantly called on little Johnnie.
"Last night at the dinner table, my sister told my father that she was pregnant, and he said 'Beautiful, just f...... beautiful!'"

Little Johnnie was sitting on a park bench eating one candy bar after another.
After the 6th one a man on the bench across from him said, "Son, you know eating all that candy isn't good for you. It will give you acne, rot your teeth, and make you fat."Little Johnnie replied, "My grandfather lived to be 107 years old."
The man asked, "Did your grandfather eat 6 candy bars at a time?"
Little Johnnie answered, "No, he minded his own f....... business."

Friday Five (from insane journal friday five asylum

2008-06-23T17:04:00.000-04:00

okay so it is late. oh well.

1. First time you told someone you were in love with them?
Seventh grade though I should have saved my breath and not bothered. Her mother told her "some girls go through a phase." Arrrrgh.

2. First time you threw up from too much alcohol?
Eleventh grade in the springtime.

3. First time you took your drivers test?
Grade Twelve. I failed the first time. Dad took me the second time and I did very well.

4. First time you saw snow/the ocean (whichever is more exotic)?
I have never not known snow or the ocean.

5. First thought when I say "tasty undies"?
Edible underwear.

Marriage for ALL

2008-06-23T17:02:00.000-04:00

I think that the government should get out of the marriage business completely.
I think that anyone who gets married in a church, circle, synagogue, temple... that should be called marriage regardless of the genders of the folks involved.
I think that anyone who gets married before a judge...that should be called a civil union.
Both words should be interchangeable with the same rights and responsibilities.

But failing that, then YES absolutely-- screw this civil union/domestic partner crap.

MARRIAGE FOR ALL REGARDLESS OF REAL OR ASSUMED GENDER OF SELF OR PARTNER
It's the right thing to do.

No readers, this one is not about any of my obsessive thoughts about VESID sucks.

2008-06-20T16:10:00.000-04:00

Friday. Today is Friday. Friday it is. It is Friday today.
Friday is the day that mate and I go to the bookstore.
I got a Richard Dawkins book (passing nod to all those who hate him for being uppity, crass, and an atheist) which talks about evolution. I am studying my ancestors.

To those who don't know, I am technically an atheist along with being a witch, bisexual, woman, newly Discordian (yes dearheart, you do have to eat a hotdog without its' bun in a park on a Friday)-- Hail Eris, and an evolutionist. Oh yes; and hater of VESID (VESID sucks)-- I did promise an obsession free entry today didn't I, lover of my mate, the internet sleezy as it is at times, my dog and cats and frogs and trees and woods, defender of separation of church and state, supporter of civil rights for all civils.
So shoot me.

In the news: an autistic girl in Canada. Seems the educational aide went to a psychic who asked her, "Are you working with a girl whose name starts with a V?" (yes). "She is being sexually abused by a guy between the ages of 23 and 26." The school did the only logical thing-- Children's Aid Society was called. (Americans: think Child Abuse Hotline or D.S.S.).
Mom was then presented with a list of "behaviors" that could possibly constitute signs and symptoms of sexual abuse. Mom protested. Victoria is severely autistic. The Children's Aid Society fortunately was not willing to put stock in a psychic's tip. The report was taken and then quickly dismissed. Mom has sought legal advice regarding the possibility of lawsuit. Meanwhile, Victoria is not going to school. Mom is not going to work. The two are home together all day.

http://www.nationalpost.com/most_popular/story.html?id=597195

http://toronto.ctv.ca/servlet/an/local/CTVNews/20080618/
psychic_abuse_080618/20080618/?hub=TorontoNewHome

http://www.shortnews.com/start.cfm?id=71516

http://timestranscript.canadaeast.com/newstoday/article/329416

http://canadianpress.google.com/article/ALeqM5hM0zeYRJKc_mp6Lk1JVDqVLIdwSA

http://www.barrieadvance.com/barrieadvance/article/108266

What stupidity! The "for entertainment only" psychic prompted this whole thing. And as almost always, it is the kids who suffer. Victoria was in a self-contained classroom with five other kids. She is non-verbal, entering puberty, lacks inhibitions. The principal interpreted licking a table and gyrating against staff bodies as being indicative of sexual abuse. Some people don't have the sense they were born with.

The psychic shold be prosecuted as being fraudalent, the teacher's aide should be fired, and Victoria should be going to school somewhere.

For dinner tonight-- pizza from a restaurant. Hooray. It was delicious. On the teevee, court teevee as usual. This morning-- dog and I walked our two miles. Mate has been ordered to walk two miles a day by his heart doc. Since he hasn't been or he is slowly working up to it (we will see) I've decided to do it for him. Perhaps he will have some benefits via osmosis.

I visited buddies on multiply tonight. The journals: live, commie, and insane-- will be done tomorrow. The miscellaneous ones: myspace, 360, paganspace-- Sunday.

I'm still doing second life stuff.
http://www.secondlife.com/?u=492430f4263844fdb2cb9ef952ebf4a1

if for some strange reason you feel compelled to join up. Don't bother getting the paid account. Leave me your secondlife name in your comments and I will contact you to give you the url to my secondlife home where you can stay for free.

I am learning 3D building and scripting there. Not to put too fine a spin on things, my buildings all resemble something that someone with brain damage would create. (Well, I do have brain damage. It's called "traumatic brain injury" in polite society.).

Tomorrow is run through the house wildly picking up crap and sticking it somewhere out of sight day. My dad wants to come up on Sunday if it isn't raining.

There. A semi-average post.

spike

Favorite Quotes

2008-06-13T21:23:00.002-04:00

"I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn how to do it."

- Pablo Picasso

Among the many crimes committed against the younger generation, one of the worst is that young people are taught next to nothing about reason, rationality, or the importance of critical thinking.

— Nathaniel Branden

Our truest responsibility to the irrationality of the world is to paint or sing or write, for only in such response do we find the truth.

-- Madeleine L'Engle

A Second Life Prayer, adapted from the Our Father

2008-06-03T22:40:00.002-04:00

Nope, I didn't write this one. But someone did and made it freely available on Second Life.
If you've never been on Second Life, you won't understand it.
So don't worry about it.
If you have been on Second Life, then you will know that
S.L. stands for 'still lagging.'
spike

Our Lindens,
Who art in the Labs,
Hallowed be thy prims.
Thy Grid-dom come, thy will be done,
On sims, as it is in The Preview.
Give us this day our daily crash,
And forgive us our Spammery.
As we forgive those who grief against us
And lead us not into private parcels.
But deliver us from Lag.
Amen.

Voted Out of Kindergarten-- Alex Barton

2008-05-27T21:48:00.000-04:00

The blond-haired little boy stared back at me from a photo distributed on the w.w.w. [w.w.w. = world wide wasteoftime]. In a parody of democracy in action, Alex Barton was voted out of kindergarten for the remainder of the school day last Wednesday. His crime? Having a neurological condition called Asperger's and some associated behavioral problems. The teacher-- a Wendy Portillo-- cajoled her class into voting. And reportedly had children describe what they didn't like about young Alex. One reported adjective was "disgusting." Two kids voted to keep Alex in the classroom that day. The majority voted that he be excluded. Alex who was just returned to the class from the principal's office for his behavior spent the rest of the school day in the nurse's office. Needless to say, Alex has not been thrilled about his experience.

Although folks on both sides of the issue have resorted to name-calling, what I find even more repugnant are the public comments which support Wendy Portillo in her actions. Her excuse ran something like teaching the children about tallying. I wasn't there but I have an opinion anyways-- bovine fecal matter to that. Was the teacher lying about the whys and wherefores of her ill-advised election activity a la Survivor fashion? Nah, she was just being reckless with the truth.

Yes, I know how difficult it can be to maintain reasonable discipline and order in any rowdy bunch of human beings. Been there, done that. Yes I am intimately acquainted with the cluster of symptoms which comprise Asperger's. Of course I know how aggravating it is to herd cats.

I also know the frustration of living with atypical neurology.

I do not belong to the Autism Squeaks camp. [Autism Speaks but not for me, a curebie organization of unhappy parents]. I don't understand why forcing eye contact is such a big deal to neurotypicals, don't wish to blend in, will not give up my passions, and certainly will continue to celebrate diversity. I hate all clothing that is not cotton. I detest polyester and nylon in particular. I don't use makeup or wear high heels. I used to stare at the dust specks illuminated by the sunlight pouring through a window. I was clumsy rather than graceful and the last to be picked for any gym class team. I have been accused of staring too long, daydreaming, having obsessions with the things that are of intense interest to me, being intense or too intense or thinking too much about weird things or the wrong things, eating food in a specific order rather than varying what is on the fork from bite to bite, eating the same thing for breakfast daily, not making small talk, not caring about small talk or the lives of celebrities, being a geek or a space cadet or pedantic, not fitting in. And worse, daring to be content with my own company and my own internal focus and my own way of being.

No Child Left Behind. One Child Voted Out.

radical sapphoq says: A huge phooey to Wendy Portillo. As an adult and as a teacher, I cannot believe that she didn't have other options for dealing with a misbehaving five year old.
While I support reasonable discipline and consequences for one's actions, I abhor what happened to Alex Barton. I sincerely hope that he will find a new classroom where he is valued for who he is, a teacher who knows about the issues that people on the broad autistic spectrum face and who has a better arsenal of tools for keeping order in a classroom.

Bev over at Autism Square 8 has an excellent list of who to write to should anyone feel so inclined:
http://aspergersquare8.blogspot.com/2008/05/not-special-support-alex-barton.html

Educate yourselves if you wish to. Here is a partial incomplete list which includes two news articles from the same newspaper in Florida and some other bloggers who are blogging about this crapola:

excellent thoughts about this whole mess
http://lastcrazyhorn.wordpress.com/2008/05/25/the-golden-rule/

Laura Hershey
http://crip-power.com/2008/05/27/thoughts-on-alex-barton-and-the-way-we-organize/

the politics of exclusion
http://qw88nb88.wordpress.com/2008/05/25/mend-the-link/

Amanda
http://ballastexistenz.autistics.org/?p=538

an interview with Alex Barton and his mother
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2008/05/27/earlyshow/main4130288.shtml

two Palm Beach Post articles-- links working as of 5/28/08
http://www.palmbeachpost.com/treasurecoast/content/tcoast/epaper/
2008/05/27/0527slteacher.html#comments

and
http://www.palmbeachpost.com/treasurecoast/content/tcoast/epaper/
2008/05/23/0523slclassvote.html?cxntlid=inform_artr

Labels: Alex Barton, Asperger's, broad autistic spectrum, No Child Left Behind, One Child Voted Out, Wendy Portillo

No Speak English

2008-05-23T12:33:00.000-04:00

thanks Jer for passing this one along.

No Speak English

A Russian woman married a Canadian gentleman and they lived happily ever after in Toronto . However, the poor lady was not very proficient in English, but did manage to communicate with her husband. The real problem arose whenever she had to shop for groceries.
One day, she went to the butcher and wanted to buy chicken legs. She didn't know how to put forward her request, and in desperation, clucked like a chicken and lifted up her skirt to show her thighs. Her butcher got the message, and gave her the chicken legs.
Next day she needed to get chicken breasts, again she didn't know how to say it, and so she clucked like a chicken and unbuttoned her blouse to show the butcher her breasts. The butcher understood again, and gave her some chicken breasts.
On the 3rd day, the poor lady needed to buy sausages. Unable to find a way to communicate this, she brought her husband to the store...
(Please scroll down)

What were you thinking?

Hellooooooo, her husband speaks English!

Now get back to your emails or whatever you were doing.

I don't know about you sometimes!

Another Little Johnnie Joke 5/23/08

2008-05-23T11:59:00.002-04:00

a big shout-out to JoJo for passing along this one!

During one of her daily classes a teacher trying to teach good manners,
asked her students the following question:

"Michael, if you were on a date having dinner with a nice young lady,
how would you tell her that you have to go to the bathroom?"

Michael said, "Just a minute I have to go pee." The teacher responded
by saying, "That would be rude and impolite."

What about you Peter, how would you say it?" Peter said, "I am sorry,
but I really need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

"That's better, but it's still not very nice to say the word bathroom
at the dinner table.

And you, little Johnny, can you use your brain for once and show us
your good manners?" "I would say: Darling, may I please be excused for
a moment? I have to shake hands with a very dear friend of mine, whom I
hope you'll get to meet after dinner."

Howdy folks

2008-05-10T14:39:00.000-04:00

It's been awhile since I've blogged here or anywhere. So shoot me.
1. I've gotten caught up in SecondLife:
http://www.secondlife.com/?u=492430f4263844fdb2cb9ef952ebf4a1
if anyone wants to check it out for some reason or other.

2. A close friend who is an addict was in the hospital and I was engaged in daily fighting to get her adequate pain relief.

3. I had a two week vertigo attack which caused more VESID stupidity.

4. I just needed a break.

I'm back.

spike

What do you call the meatless soup that a Rastafarian is consuming while driving a motorcycle?
Marley Harley Barley.

Dad's Dilemma

2008-03-11T18:44:00.000-04:00

My dad is currently in the throes of a difficult divorce and may or may not be coming to live with us. I've spent the last week alternating between bouts of frantic cleaning/organization and vertigo supposedly induced by a "virus in the labyrinth of the ear" for which I am currently being forced to take Meclizine. Fortunately, I have found a housecleaner who was able to help. (And I plan to keep her on regular once a week as a result of all of this.)

Dad was supposedly driving up Monday or Tuesday for a day visit to check out "what's up there."

We spent Saturday driving around with Big Ed who helped up pick out an eight drawer dresser and a full-sized futon/bed along with two lamps. Big Ed also found a fellow to help unload the stuff. Husband put together the futon, lamp, and dresser-- rather impressive I must admit-- leaving me only the drawer handles to screw into place.

Sunday afternoon Dad called to announce that he was halfway here. I was instantly glad that we had set up the bedroom on Saturday. We scurried around like rats to scrap away the last remnants of sludge from the homestead. A couple hours later and still no dad.

The police department called. First thing I said without even saying hello was, "Is my father alright?"

Turns out his cell phone stopped functioning so he went to the police department. The desk sarge was good-natured and hunted through four log books before finding our address and phone number. We went down to the police station to pick up my dad.

Dad had worn a leather jacket. For years now I have been telling him that it really is colder up here but to no avail. We got him home and warmed him up and then went to a diner for a bite to eat. Husband lent him a warmer jacket. After dinner, we spent some time with the telly. The dog and the most courageous cat spent some time pestering-- I mean getting to know-- the stranger in the easy chair.

Dad slept in the bedroom we had set up for him that night. The next morning, husband went off to work. Dad and I went out to breakfast at the same diner, I gave him a brief tour of Hiserville, he shoveled some ice off of the driveway, and then he was off.

He doesn't know if or when he is moving in yet. I am not terribly interested in him spending another moment in the condo with my soon to be ex-stepmother but it is not my call. There was a bit of cognitive slippage that was noticeable-- "vagueness" is the word that husband used. I sure hope it is not some sort of dementia or neuro problem in vitro.

If it is, that just makes the whole divorce thing that much more horrid. In other words, dumping a mate because he got older and broker bites. Dumping a mate because he got older, broker, and may be showing signs of losing it is total suckage.

Oh, I know that it takes two to make a problem. After all, I am still my father's daughter. The only thing that stops me from telling my soon to be ex-stepmother where she can get off is my half-sister who is her daughter and really hurting about all of this.

spike

Link

2008-03-01T13:08:00.000-05:00

http://www.commiejournal.com/users/sapphoq/19624.html

Five for FryDay 2/29/08

2008-02-29T22:24:00.000-05:00

http://asylums.insanejournal.com/thefridayfive/

xo_tara_xo of insane journal's asylum The Friday Five says: Something's gone terribly wrong with the F5 entry.

I keep putting in the questions and all that come up are the answers. So I look to you for the questions...

Answers
1. scrambled eggs and bacon

2. 11:34pm

3. *$%#@!

4. Banana Peel

5. Jello

Alrighty then, here are my questions:

1. What breakfast do you never eat anymore?
2. What time do you think you will go to bed tonight?
3. What do you think about working for a living?
4. What do you never put into banana bread?
5. What can you fill a bathtub with to make it an inviting place to have sex?

sapphoq n friends

The Politics of Dining

2008-02-26T21:56:00.001-05:00

a shoutout to happyhead, thanks for this:

Anarchy: All the food is piled in the middle of the room and it's every person for themselves.

Theocracy: Your Pastor invites himself to dinner with you on Friday and forces everyone to eat fish.

Dictatorship: A single customer and his goons overthrow the restaurant and take control over the food. People that join or support them get better food. Those that don't, starve or get crappy food.

Monarchy: A family run restaurant that has been passed down through the generations. Every generation the restaurant is different. Some owners were kind and fair, charged reasonable prices for good food. Other owners were tyrants that overcharged the customers and served them slop. Some were just horribly inept or insane and pretty much ruined it.

Fascism: The restaurant rules with an iron hand. You eat whatever they decide to serve or you "leave".

Communism: Everyone gets the exact same meal (but if you hand the waiter a $20 he will bring out better food and dessert).

Oligarchy: The management is from a different restaurant chain. So that's why you see tacos and refried beans at a Chinese Buffet.

Republic: A party of customers votes on which one of them goes up and orders the food for the entire table.

Democracy: A party of customers all vote and argue over what dish ALL of them will have to eat. Two hours go by and they still haven't decided.

Wikileaking Wikileaks

2008-02-23T18:33:00.000-05:00

Any of you who have been following the drama over at Wikileaks will be glad to know that following this here linkage: http://88.80.13.160/wiki/Wikileaks will get you there (a mirror site from Sweden) for the time being anyways. Alternate linkage outside of the United States was part of the original plan-- to have sites set up in various countries should the courts of one country succeed in getting a shutdown order. Here's another one, this one is based in England: http://www.wikileaks.org.uk/wiki/Wikileaks .

Wikileaks protects whistle-blowers from corporations (or governments) who would much rather not have folks tattling on any suspicious practices. Recently, a Swiss bank challenged Wikileaks and now the site is facing a court battle with the United States versus responsible exercise of the First Amendment. Bloggers across the internet have protested the February 15 court decision and this blogger too joins in the fray. Buzz-flash has quite a few things to say about this whole mess over at: http://www.buzzflash.com/articles/contributors/1545 .

Quite amazing to me is that the court case took place in the United States. While the order to erase the D.N.S. from U.S. servers will certainly not hold up on appeal,http://commons.globalintegrity.org/2008/02/us-court-order-shuts-down-activist-site.html<--- here it is disconcerting that this case involving documents regarding a Swiss bank doing business in the Cayman Islands made it court on United States soil. Still, we are far better off living here than in places like Egypt where one can be severely physically beaten for dissident web-surfing and document leaking or in Red China or even Vietnam where folks have been imprisoned for similar activities.

radical sapphoqcross-posted all over

Wikileaks
first amendment
censorship
sapphoq

LInk

2008-02-20T20:46:00.000-05:00

I made a test called "What blogging site am I?"
Go check it out:

Http://www.testriffic.com/test/sapphoq/20910/What-blogging-site-am-I-

What Not to Do When M$ Windows Crashes

2008-02-18T20:23:00.002-05:00

Set fire to it and sacrifice it to an Aztec deity.
Scream loudly, "M$ sucks!"
Shove it into your pool to see if it floats.
Strap it to your car roof and take it to the nearest computer fix-all storefront operation.
Shovel a hole and bury it.

What to Do:

*Learn Linux*

sapphoq n friends

Spam Mail Rag

2008-02-17T16:22:00.001-05:00

Safe, approved, and trouble-free,
doing it up reliably. Shake those troubles from your head.
Your power tool rocks the house. Have a party in your bed.
Detox your sex life. Order your drugs on-line with total safety.
Get your loan. Pay your bill. Here's your invoice number.
Your account has been breached. Click here and see
what you won now. Dear Honorable Sir, I need your help.
Send me some money and I will give you back more.
Come to Nigeria and score, score, score.
Hurry hurry hurry get your fake degree.
Don't delay. Fabulous business opportunity today.

spike

It's Caturday

2008-02-16T18:38:00.000-05:00

Viking Kitties

2008-02-13T07:59:00.000-05:00

http://www.rathergood.com/gaybar/
http://www.vikingkittens.com/

Cannibal

2008-02-06T21:54:00.000-05:00

hail to the great 1588:

A cannibal was walking through the jungle and came upon a restaurant operated by a fellow cannibal. Feeling somewhat hungry, he sat down and looked over the menu…

Tourist: $5

Broiled Missionary: $10.00

Fried Explorer: $15.00

Baked or Grilled Liberal: $100.00

The cannibal called the waiter over and asked, ‘Why such a price difference for the Politician?’

The cook replied, “Have you ever tried to clean one? They’re so full of crap, it takes all morning.”

Potentially and Realistically

2008-02-06T21:52:00.000-05:00

a big shout-out to Jake for this one:

A young boy went up to his father and asked him, "Dad, what is the difference between 'potentially' and 'realistically'?

The father thought for a moment, then answered, "Go ask your mother if she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars. Then ask your sister if she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars, and then ask your brother if he'd sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars. Come back and tell me what you learn from that."

So the boy went to his mother and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?"

The mother replied,"Of course I would! We could really use that money to fix up the house and send you kids to a great University!"

The boy then went to his sister and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?"

The girl replied, "Oh my God! I LOVE Brad Pitt! I would sleep with him in a heartbeat, are you nuts?!"

The boy then went to his brother and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?"

"Of course," the brother replied. "Do you know how much a million bucks would buy?"

The boy pondered the answers for a few days and then went back to his dad.

His father asked him, "Did you find out the difference between potentially and realistically?"

"Yes," the boy replied, "potentially, you and I are sitting on three million dollars, but realistically, we're living with two hookers and a homo."

Once upon a time...

2008-02-03T08:18:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time, in a nice little forest, there lived an orphaned bunny
And an orphaned snake. By a surprising coincidence, both were blind
From birth. One day, the

Bunny was hopping through the forest, and the snake was slithering
Through the forest, when the bunny tripped over the snake and fell down.

This, of course, knocked the snake about quite a bit. "Oh, my," said the
Bunny, "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I've been blind
Since birth, so, I can't see where I'm going. In fact, since I'm also an
Orphan, I don't even know what I am."
It's quite ok," replied the snake. "Actually, my story is as yours. I am
Also blind from birth and an orphan. I tell you what, maybe I could
Slither all over you, and work out what you are so at least you'll have
That going for you."

"Oh, that would be wonderful" replied the bunny. So the snake slithered
All over the bunny, and said, "Well, you're covered with soft fur, you
Have really long ears, your nose twitches, and you have a soft cottony
Tail. I'd say that you must be a bunny rabbit."
"Oh, thank you, thank you," cried the bunny, in obvious excitement. The
Bunny suggested to the snake, "Maybe I could feel you all over with my
Paw, and help you the same way that you've helped me."

So the bunny felt the snake all over, and remarked, "Well, you're smooth
And slippery, and you have a forked tongue, no backbone and no balls.
I'd say you must be either a team leader, supervisor or possibly someone
In senior management."

The Friday Five

2008-02-01T17:46:00.000-05:00

No Friday Five posted at TheFridayFive insane journal asylum today so here are mine:

(1). What is your earliest memory?
I remember learning how to walk.
Or: What is the best thing that ever happened to you?
Getting married.

(2). Are there any gaps in your memories? (missing years...)
I remember very little of when I was in second grade compared to memories of other years.
Or: What is one of the worst things that ever happened to you?
I was raped. That was pretty bad and stayed bad for awhile.

(3). What is the freakiest thing you ever did that you feel like blogging about?
One time a friend and I made a paper chain and wrapped it around the car of a guy I liked at midnight.
Or: Pick your own question.
That one was okay.

(4). How has your relationship to time changed since you've gotten older?
Times feels faster to me now.
Or: What do you find to be totally boring?
Sometimes memes are boring. I am boring sometimes. And school was boring-- til I got to college.

(5). Have you or a relative or friend ever had memory loss?
I forgot some things after my traumatic brain injury but then as I remember them, I blog them so I don't forget again. Even when this was at it's worse, I scored in the 99th percentile on the memory tests that I took. I could recite nine digits forwards and backwards (almost ten) and I think more now. I could also remember 34 out of 35 pictures or words both immediately and after 5 or 10 minutes.
Or: Are you afraid of getting older?
Nope. And not afraid of death either. Been there. Done that. Ready to do it again. I mean, whenever it happens.

spike

My Friday Five

2008-01-25T17:37:00.000-05:00

Five Things I did this Week

1. I began reading "Jingo" by Terry Pratchett. I love Terry Pratchett's Discworld books. My favorite character is Death. Death speaks in capital letters and has a granddaughter. There is also a Death of Rats which Death allowed to continue on in spite of no need for same. The funniest book that Death was in was "Hogsfather." I am also a fan of the Unseen University, Carrot, and Granny Weatherwax.

2. I took the doggie visiting and we spent four hours in the woods. Human friend and I snowshoed, made a fire, and drank coffee. Doggie played with a doggie friend. She handled herself well. Although the doggie is mid-size, she prefers smaller playmates. This particular doggie friend is larger than she is. At one point, she was humping him. "You got it wrong!" I yelled at her.

3. I took a friend to drug court. She has to go two times a month. It was my first time in the smaller courtroom. I've gone several times to drug court held for the once-a-monthers and the two-weekers held in the larger courtroom. I support drug courts because I have seen the success stories. I also learn some things from listening to the judge interact with the folks who go there. The first thing I learned was "You gotta have a Plan B." This week I learned, "The brain has to be in the game or the journey will be harder." And, "Now is the time to be UN-confused."

4. I applied for part-time work and I have decided that I will aim for one company a day face-to-face until I find one. The stupid VESID morons have done zilch and I have decided that they are a waste. I am going to call the job handler on Monday and make an appointment. During the appointment, I will have her read to me exactly how many hours I am currently limited to working by the medical professionals (15), explain once again that my plan is to ease back into working via part-time work, and remind her that I was accepted into the 55b program and that I am waiting for a state job.

5. I made a bunch of new icons. I like doing computer art. I've got Paint Shop Pro 9 and 10, The GIMP, and Jasc Animation Shoppe.

spike

Dial-A-HUman

2008-01-21T02:18:00.000-05:00

Sharing what was shared with me:

1-800-FLOWERS.COM	800-716-4851	Direct to human.
AAA	800-222-4357	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
AARP	888-687-2277	Press 0.
AARP Healthcare	800-523-5800	Press 1; at prompt press 4.
AARP MedicareRxPlan	888-867-5575	Press 1; hold through message.
AARP Pharmacy Services	800-289-8849	Press 1; hold through message.
ABN AMRO Mortgage	800-783-8900	Press #; at prompt press #; at prompt press 0.
Ace Hardware	866-290-5334	Press 0.
Adelphia	888-683-1000	Press * at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Adobe Systems	800-833-6687	At prompt, press 1.
Advance Auto Parts	800-314-4243	Press 0.
Aetna	800-738-7674	Say "member"; press *0.
Aetna Rx Home Delivery	800-227-5720	Press 0.
AFLAC	800-992-3522	Press #; at prompt press #; at prompt press #; at prompt press 3.
AIG	877-638-4244	Direct to human.
Air Canada	888-247-2262	Press 1; at prompt press 0; at prompt press 0; at prompt press 0.
AirTran Airlines	800-204-5695	Press 0.
Alamo	800-462-5266	Direct to human.
Alaska Air	800-252-7522	Press #.
Alitalia	800-223-5730	Press *.
Allmerica Financial	800-533-7881	Press 00 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Allstate	800-255-7828	Press * at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Allstate Motor Club	800-869-7997	Direct to human.
Alltel Wireless	800-255-8351	Press 00 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Amazon Visa	888-247-4080	Press 00 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Amazon.com	800-201-7575	Don't press or say anything.
America Online	800-827-6364	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
American Airlines	800-433-7300	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
American Airlines Baggage	800-535-5225	Press 7.
American Express	800-528-4800	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Ameriquest Mortage	888-436-7571	Don't press or say anything.
Amtrak	877-444-4773	Direct to human.
Apple	800-275-2273	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
AT&T	800-288-2747	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
AT&T Business	800-750-2355	Press * at each prompt, ignoring messages.
AT&T Universal Card	800-423-4343	Don't press or say anything.
AT&T Worldnet	800-400-1447	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Auto Zone	800-288-6966	Press 1; at prompt press 2; at prompt press 0.
Avis	800-230-4898	Press 2.
Baby Bjorn	866-424-0200	Press 2.
Bank Card Svcs.	800-655-1491	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Bank of America	877-231-9372	Direct to human.
Bank of America Credit	800-732-9194	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Bank of New York	800-225-5269	Press ###.
Barclays	877-523-0478	Press * at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Barnes & Noble	800-422-7717	Direct to human.
Barnes & Noble.com	800-843-2665	Press 16.
Bear Stearns	888-807-6898	Direct to human.
Bed, Bath & Beyond	800-462-3966	Press 4; hold.
Belkin Tech Support	800-223-5546	At prompt press 2263; press 1 at each prompt thereafter.
BellSouth	888-757-6500	Press *0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Bellsouth FastAccess DSL	888-321-2375	Press 1; at prompt press 1; at prompt press 1; at prompt press 1; at prompt press 2, ignoring messages.
Best Buy	888-237-8289	Press 2.
Best Buy Card	800-365-0292	Press 6 at each prompt, ingnoring recording.
Best Western	800-780-7234	Direct to human.
BJ's Wholesale Club	800-257-2582	Press 0#.
Black & Decker	800-544-6986	Direct to human.
Blockbuster	214-854-3000	Press 22.
Blockbuster Online	866-692-2789	Press 11.
Bloomingdales Credit	800-295-4057	Direct to human.
Blue Cross and Blue Shield	877-526-3425	Say "get associate" at prompt.
BMG Music	317-692-9200	Press #.
BMW	800-831-1117	Say "customer relations" and then press 1 for "vehicle" or 2 for "motorcycle."
Boost Mobile	888-266-7848	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Borders	888-812-6657	Press 0.
Bosch Power Tools	877-267-2499	Press 100.
Bose	800-444-2673	Direct to human.
Briggs & Stratton	414-259-5262	Press 0 at prompt.
British Airways	800-247-9297	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Brother International	800-284-4329	Press 7.
Budget Rent a Car	800-527-0700	Press 0.
Buick	800-521-7300	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Buy.com	800-800-0800	Don't press or say anything.
Cabela's	800-237-4444	Direct to human.
Cablevision	800-868-9840	Press 1. Then press 0 at each subsequent prompt.
Cadillac	800-333-4223	Press 0.
Canon USA	800-828-4040	At prompt press *; at prompt press 0.
Capital One	800-548-4593	Press 0.
Card Services	888-363-8001	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Caremark	800-262-7890	Press 0.
Carnival Cruise	800-929-6400	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Casio	800-706-2534	Press 3.
Celebrity Cruises	800-647-2251	Press 0.
Cellular One	888-910-9191	Press 4.
Centers for Disease Control	800-232-4636	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Centers for Medicare & Medicaid	800-999-1118	Press 1000.
Ceridian Benefit Svcs.	800-877-7994	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Charles Schwab	800-435-9050	Press 3, followed by eight digit account number
Charter Communications	866-472-2200	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Chase Credit Cards	800-432-3117	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Chase Home Finance	800-848-9136	Press #0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
CheapTickets	800-755-4333	Don't press or say anything; when offered customer service say "Yes."
CheapTrips	800-211-5119	Direct to human.
Chevrolet	800-222-1020	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
ChevronTexaco Credit	800-243-8766	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Chrysler Financial	800-700-0738	Say "agent" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Chrysler Group	800-992-1997	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
CIGNA	800-849-9000	Press ## at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Cingular Wireless (AT&T)	800-331-0500	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Cingular Wireless Warranty Dept.	800-801-1101	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Circuit City	800-843-2489	Press 0.
Citi Cards	800-633-7367	Don't press or say anything, ignoring messages.
Citi Simplicity	866-696-5673	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Citibank	800-756-7047	Press 0# at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Citizens Bank	800-922-9999	Press 000.
Columbia House DVD	888-467-7404	Press 1 for English; then don't press or say anything, ignoring messages.
Columbia Mutual Funds	800-345-6611	Say "representative."
Comcast	800-266-2278	Press * at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Comcast	800-266-2278	Press * at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Comfort Inn	877-424-6423	Direct to human.
Commerce Bank	888-751-9000	Direct to human.
Commonwealth Edison	800-334-7661	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Compaq	800-652-6672	Say "operator" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Compass Bank	800-239-5175	Press 00 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
CompUSA	800-266-7872	Press 33.
CompUSA erebates	888-716-8555	Press **.
CompuServe	800-848-8990	Press 1211.
Computer Associates	877-694-8509	Press 2.
Consolidated Edison	800-752-6633	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Consumers' Energy Company	800-477-5050	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Continental Airlines	800-784-4444	Press 00 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Costco	800-220-6000	Press 55.
Costco.com	800-955-2292	Press 55.
Countrywide Loans	800-669-5864	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
CVS.com	888-607-4287	Press 0.
Days Inn	800-329-7466	Direct to human.
Dell Financial Services	800-283-2210	Press 0; at prompt press 0; at prompt press #; at prompt press #.
Dell Sales	800-624-9897	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Dell Tech Support	800-624-9896	Press 3; say "agent" at each additional prompt, ignoring messages.
Delta Airlines	800-221-1212	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Delta Dental	888-335-8227	After language option, press 2 for existing or 3 for new account.
Detroit Edison (DTE)	800-477-4747	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
DHL Express	800-225-5345	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Dillard's	800-345-5273	Direct to human.
Diner's Club	800-729-5309	Press 2.
DirecTV	800-824-9081	Don't press or say anything.
Dirt Devil	800-321-1134	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Discover	800-347-2683	Please enter your 16 digital account number
DISH network	800-333-3474	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Disney Cruise Line	800-951-3532	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Disney Shopping	800-328-0368	Press 0.
Disneyland Resort	714-781-4000	Direct to human.
Dodge	800-992-1997	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Dodge and Cox	800-621-3979	Press 0.
Dollar Rent-A-Car	800-800-4000	Press 0.
Drugstore.com	800-378-4786	Press 2; at prompt press 5.
Earthlink	888-327-8454	Press 1; press 0 at each prompt thereafter, ignoring messages.
eBay	800-322-9266	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Eddie Bauer	800-426-8020	Press 1.
Enterprise Rent-A-Car	800-261-7331	Press 3 at prompt.
Entertainment Weekly	866-228-1183	Say "agent." Say "yes."
Epson	800-533-3731	Direct to human.
Equifax	866-640-2273	Press 30 at each prompt, ignoring message.
e*Trade	800-786-2575	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Eureka Vacuum	800-438-7352	Press 17.
Evenflo	800-233-5921	Press 4.
Expedia	800-397-3342	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Experian	800-493-1058	Say "yes"; enter report #; enter social security #; say "yes"; say "agent" then "yes" to confirm at prompts thereafter.
Express Scripts	800-206-4005	Press 0.
Exxon Mobil Card	800-344-4355	Press 000, ignoring message.
Farmer's Insurance	800-435-7764	Do not press or say anything, ignoring messages.
FedEx	800-463-3339	Say "representative" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Fidelity	800-544-6666	Ignore prompt for social security number; press ###.
First Nat'l Bank of Omaha	888-530-3626	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Fisher-Price	800-432-5437	Do not press or say anything, ignoring messages.
Florida Power & Light	800-226-3545	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Ford	800-392-3673	Press 0; at prompt press 0; at prompt press 0; at prompt press 1; at prompt press 0.
Ford Interest Advantage	800-462-2614	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Ford Motor Credit	800-727-7000	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Four Points by Sheraton	888-625-5144	Press 17.
FreeCreditReport.com	877-481-6825	Press 51 at prompt.
Frigidaire Parts	800-599-7569	Press 3.
FTD	800-736-3383	Press 2.
Fujitsu PC Support	800-385-4878	Press 00.
Gap Credit Card	800-887-1198	Press 000 at each prompt; ignore request for account number.
Gateway Computers	800-846-2000	Press 4; say "no" at each additional prompt.
GE Appliances	800-626-2005	Press 000.
GE Finance CareCredit	866-893-7864	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
GE MONEY BANK	877-317-5544	Press 1, then don't press or say anything.
Geek Squad	800-433-5778	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
GEICO	800-841-3000	At prompt press 6; at prompt press 1; at prompt press 5; at prompt press #.
Georgia Power	888-660-5890	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
GM MasterCard	800-947-1000	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
GMAC	800-200-4622	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
GMC	800-462-8782	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
GoDaddy.com	480-505-8899	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Goldman Sachs Mutual Funds	800-762-5035	Direct to human.
Goodyear Tire	800-321-2136	Press 1; at prompt press 5.
Google	650-623-4000	Press 0.
Google AdWords	866-246-6453	Press 22.
Graco	800-345-4109	Press 0.
Great West Health	800-663-8081	Press 1; at prompt press 1; press 4 at each prompt thereafter, ignoring messages.
Greyhound	800-231-2222	Press 26.
Hampton Inn	800-426-7866	Direct to human.
Harley-Davidson	414-343-4056	Press 0.
Hertz	800-654-3131	Direct to human.
Hewlett-Packard	800-474-6836	Say "agent" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Hilton HHonors	800-548-8690	Press 5 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Hitachi	800-448-2244	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Holiday Inn	800-465-4329	Press 0; at prompt press 0.
Holmes	800-284-3267	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Home Depot	800-793-3768	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Home Depot Credit	800-677-0232	Press * at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Home Shopping Net	800-284-3100	Press 0.
Honda	800-999-1009	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Honda Financial Svcs.	800-445-1358	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Honeywell	800-468-1502	Press 11900.
Hoover	800-944-9202	Press 52.
Hotels.com	800-346-8357	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring prompts.
Hotwire	866-468-9473	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Household Bank Credit	800-771-7339	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
H&R Block Advisors	866-295-7912	Press 3; at prompt press 2.
HSBC	800-477-6000	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Hughesnet	866-347-3292	Press 2.
Humana	800-448-6262	At prompts say "member," "pharmacy," "prescription benefits"; give invalid ID.
Humana Medicare Claims	800-457-4708	Press ; at prompt press ; at prompt press 0; at prompt press 0; at prompt press *.
Hyatt Corporation	888-591-1234	Direct to human.
IBM	800-426-4968	Direct to human.
Ikea	800-434-4532	Press 0 quickly and repeatedly.
ING Direct	800-464-3473	Direct to human.
Intuit	800-811-8766	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
JC Penney Catalog	800-222-6161	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
JC Penny Credit	800-542-0800	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Jeep	800-992-1997	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
JetBlue Airways	800-538-2583	Press 0.
John Deere	800-537-8233	Press 1; at prompt press 4.
John Hancock	800-732-5543	Press 2; at prompt press 0.
Johnson & Johnson	800-526-3967	Press 0.
JP Morgan Chase	800-392-5749	Press 131.
Juno	888-839-5866	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
JVC America	800-252-5722	Press 3.
Kensington Tech Support	800-535-4242	Press 11.
KitchenAid	800-422-1230	Press 3420.
Kmart	866-562-7848	Press 12.
Kodak	800-235-6325	Press #.
Kodak Gallery (Ofoto)	800-360-9098	Say "agent."
Kohls Credit	800-564-5740	Press # at each prompt, ignorning messages.
Kolcraft	800-453-7673	Direct to human.
Lands End	800-743-9706	Direct to human.
Le Meridien	888-625-5144	Press 13.
Lexmark	800-539-6275	Press 1.
Liberty Mutual (Claims)	800-225-2467	Press 10.
Lincoln Mercury	800-521-4140	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Linksys	800-326-7114	Press 1; at prompt press ###.
Little Tikes	800-321-0183	Press 11.
LL Bean	800-441-5713	Direct to human.
Logitech	702-269-3457	Press 2000.
Lord & Taylor Credit	800-223-7440	Press 2002.
Lowe's	800-445-6937	Press 0.
Lowes Visa	800-508-2520	Press 0# at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Lufthansa	800-399-5838	Direct to human.
Luxury Collection Hotels	888-625-5144	Press 15.
Macy's	800-289-6229	Press 4; press *# at each prompt thereafter.
Macy's Credit	800-280-4356	Press 9; press 0 at each prompt thereafter, ignoring messages.
Magnavox	800-705-2000	Select language. Say "agent."
Mariott Rewards	800-321-7396	Press 0.
Marriot International	800-228-9290	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring prompts.
MasterCard	800-622-7747	Press 000 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Mattel	800-524-8697	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Maytag	800-462-9824	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Mazda	800-222-5500	Press 0.
MBNA	800-421-2110	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
McAfee	888-847-8766	Press #40.
MCI	888-624-5622	Press 2 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Medco Insurance	800-251-7690	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Medco Pharmacy	800-987-5269	Say "representative" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Medicare	800-633-4227	Say "agent."
Mellon Investor	800-522-6645	Press #.
Memorex Electronics	800-919-3647	Press 333.
Merrill Lynch	800-637-7455	Say "Advisor".
MetLife	800-560-5001	Press ####.
MetLife Bank	866-226-5638	Press 000 rapidly and repeatedly, ignoring messages.
Metro PCS	888-863-8768	Don't press or say anything, ignoring messages.
Microsoft Tech Support	800-642-7676	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Midwest Airlines	800-452-2022	Press **.
Money Magazine	800-633-9970	Don't press or say anything.
Moneygram	800-926-9400	Press 0.
Morgan Stanley	800-869-3326	Press 00.
Motel 6	800-466-8356	Direct to human.
Motorola	800-331-6456	Press 00.
MSN	800-386-5550	Say "agent" at each prompt, until offered a representative; say "yes."
Napster	800-839-4210	Press 33; at prompt press 2; at prompt press 2.
National Car Rental	800-227-7368	Direct to human.
Nationwide Insurance Claims	800-421-3535	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Nautilus (Bowflex)	800-628-8458	Press 3; at prompt press 2; at prompt press 4.
NetFlix	888-638-3549	Press 0 at each prompt.
Netgear	888-638-4327	At prompt press 41.
Netscape	866-541-8233	Press 000.
NetZero	866-841-1442	Press #### at each prompt, ignoring messages.
New York Times	800-698-4637	Press 500.
Newsweek	800-631-1040	Press 0.
Nikon Service	800-645-6687	Press 4 at prompt.
Nintendo	800-255-3700	Press 0.
Nissan Credit (NMAC)	800-888-2799	Press * at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Nissan USA	800-647-7261	Press #.
Nokia	888-665-4228	At prompt press 1; at prompt press 3; at prompt press 1.
Nordstrom	888-282-6060	Direct to human.
Northwest Airlines	800-692-6980	Direct to human.
Northwest Airlines WorldPerks	800-447-3757	At prompts say "WorldPerks," "agent," "yes," "agent," "yes."
Northwestern Mutual	800-388-8123	Press 0; press 1 to participate or 2 to decline survey.
Norwegian Cruise Line	866-234-0292	Don't press or say anything.
NY Life Benefit Services	800-294-3575	Press 0.
NY Life Retirement Svcs.	800-586-1413	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Office Depot	888-463-3768	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
OfficeMax	800-283-7674	Press 2.
OfficeMax Rebates	866-765-5702	Press 2; at prompt press 2; at prompt press 2; enter fake phone #; press 1 to confirm; press 1 to confirm.
Olympus - Digital	888-553-4448	Press 5; at prompt press 0.
Omron Healthcare	877-216-1333	Don't press or say anything.
Orbitz	888-656-4546	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Overstock.com	800-843-2446	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Pacific Gas & Electric	800-743-5000	At prompt say "Operator"; at prompt say "Yes"; at prompt say "Operator"; at prompt say "Yes."
Palm	800-881-7256	Press 1; at prompt press 2; at prompt press 2.
Panasonic	800-211-7262	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
PayPal	888-221-1161	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
PayPal Buyer Credit	866-571-3012	Say "agent" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
PC World	800-234-3498	Press *; at prompt press 2.
People Magazine	866-365-1620	Press 0.
People PC	800-736-7537	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Pep Boys	800-737-2697	Press 33; at prompt press 1; hold through prompts for representative.
PepsiCo	800-433-2652	Press 0.
PETCO	888-824-7257	Don't press or say anything.
Philips Electronics	888-744-5477	Say "agent."
Pitney Bowes Equipment	800-522-0020	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
PNC Bank	888-762-2265	Press * at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Poland Spring	800-950-9396	Say "representative" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Polaroid	800-343-5000	Press 0.
Pontiac	800-762-2737	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Pottery Barn	888-779-5176	Don't press or say anything.
Priceline	800-774-2354	At prompt press 1; at prompt press 1; at prompt enter phone number #; at prompt enter phone number #; at prompt enter phone number #.
Primerica	800-544-5445	Press 0.
Princess Cruise Line	800-774-6237	Press 0.
Principal Financial	800-547-7754	Enter social security #, then press 0.
Principal Life	800-247-4695	Press 1; at prompt press 2; at prompt press 0; at prompt press 0.
Procter & Gamble	800-331-3774	Press 1.
Progressive Insurance	800-776-4737	Press 000.
Prudential Annuity	888-778-2888	Press ** at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Prudential Financial	800-778-3932	Direct to human.
Public Service Electric & Gas	800-436-7734	Press 0.
Qantas	800-227-4500	Press 3; at prompt press 2; hold through message.
QuickBooks	888-729-1996	Press 0.
QVC	800-367-9444	Press 0.
Qwest	800-244-1111	Press 1; say "operator" at all subsequent prompts.
Radio Shack	800-843-7422	Press 0; at prompt press 0.
Radisson	888-201-1718	Direct to human.
Ramada	800-828-6644	Direct to human.
RBS Credit Card	800-747-8155	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
RCA / Thompson Electronics	877-794-7977	Press 2.
RCN	800-746-4726	Press 1; at prompt press 3; at prompt press 2; at prompt press 4.
Reader's Digest	800-304-2807	Press 0.
Reliant Energy	866-222-7100	Don't press or say anything.
Rent-A-Center	800-422-8186	Press 1.
Rite Aid	800-748-3243	Don't press or say anything.
Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines	866-562-7625	Press 0.
Ryder Customer Service	305-500-3726	Direct to human.
Ryder Rentals	800-297-9337	Don't press or say anything.
Sallie Mae	888-272-5543	Press 00 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Sam's Club	800-964-1917	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Sam's Club Credit	800-203-5764	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Samsung	800-726-7864	Press 2; at prompt press 1; at prompt press 3; at prompt press 3.
Saturn	800 553-6000	Press 3.
SBC DSL support	877-722-3755	Say "sales".
Sears	800-469-4663	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Sears Credit Card	800-917-7700	Press 0000000; press 0 at subsequent prompts.
Sears Delivery	800-732-7747	Press 95111.
Secure Horizons	800-228-2144	Say "prospective member".
Sharp	800-237-4277	Press 1132.
Shell Gasoline Card	800-490-9119	Press 0 when prompted for an account number.
Sheraton Hotels	888-625-5144	Press 12.
Simple Freedom	800-335-6401	Press #0#0.
Sirius	888 539-7474	Press 1; at prompt press 0.
Smith Barney Benefitaccess	888-822-6067	Press 0.
Sony / Playstation	800-222-7669	Say "agent"; at prompt say "agent"; at prompt press 1; at prompt press 1.
Sony Ericsson Mobile	866-766-9374	Select language.
Southern CA Edison	800-655-4555	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Southwest	800-435-9792	Direct to human.
Sovereign Bank	877-768-2265	Don't press or say anything.
Spirit Air	800-772-7117	Press 00.
Sports Illustrated	800-284-8800	Press ###, ignoring messages.
Sprint - Nextel	800-639-6111	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Sprint Broadband Direct	888-996-0001	Press 00.
Sprint Long Distance	800-877-4646	Press 000 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Sprint Mobile	877-349-4413	Direct to human.
St. Regis Hotels	888-625-5144	Press 0.
Staples	800-333-3330	Don't press or say anything.
Staples Easy Rebates	877-266-6483	Wait for "main menu" then press 0 * *.
Starbucks Coffee	800-782-7282	Press 0.
State Farm Auto Insurance	877-734-2265	At prompt, say "insurance."
State Farm Bank	877-734-2265	Say "operator" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Student Loan Corp.	800-967-2400	Press 5.
Student Loan People	888-250-6401	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
SunCom	800-786-7378	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
SUNOCO	800-278-6626	Press 00000; mumble when prompted for an account number.
SunTrust	800-786-8787	Press # rapidly and repeatedly.
Super 8	800-800-8000	Direct to human.
Symantec	800-441-7234	Don't press or say anything, ignoring prompts.
T. Rowe Price	800-922-9945	Say "operator" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
T-Mobile	877-537-7389	Direct to human.
Talk America	800-291-9699	Say "Agent"; confirm phone number; say "agent" at each prompt thereafter.
Target	800 591-3869	Press 2; don't press or say anything, ignoring messages.
Target Online	800 591-3869	Press 1; don't press or say anything, ignoring messages.
TD Ameritrade	800-669-3900	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Tech SupportT-Mobile	877-369-4588	Direct to human.
Telecheck	800-710-9898	Press 1, 3, * at prompts.
Teleflora	800-835-3356	Press 2.
Texas Instruments	800-842-2737	Press 0 # and hold.
Textron Financial	800-388-1826	Direct to human.
The Company Store	800-285-3696	Press 0.
Thrifty Car Rental	800-847-4389	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
TIAA-CREF	800-842-2733	Don't press or say anything.
Ticketmaster	Local	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Timberland	888-802-9947	Press 0.
Time Magazine	800-843-8463	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Time Warner Cable	Local	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Time Warner Road Runner	877-318-8333	Direct to human.
TiVo	877-367-8486	Say "Agent" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
TJ Maxx	800-926-6299	Don't press or say anything.
TomTom	866-486-6866	Press 1.
Toshiba	800-457-7777	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Toyota	800-331-4331	Press 6.
Toyota Financial Svcs.	800-874-8822	Select Language option; press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Toys ''R'' Us	800-869-7787	Press 1; at prompt press 2; at prompt press 7; at prompt press 2; hold through requests.
Tracfone	800-323-2366	Direct to human.
TransUnion	800-916-8800	Press 2 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Travelers Insurance	800-252-4633	Don't press or say anything.
Travelocity	888-872-8356	Press ### at prompt.
TrueValue	773-695-5000	Press 0 and ask for customer service.
TV Guide	800-866-1400	Say "customer service" twice.
TXU Energy	800-218-7130	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Ubid.com	800-317-7995	Hold for representative.
UHAUL	800-789-3638	Direct to human.
Union Pacific	800-877-5123	Press #.
United	800-864-8331	Press 0; say "agent," say "yes"; say "domestic" or "international" as appropriate.
UnitedHealth	800-585-6586	Select type. Say "Representative" three times.
Universal Studios Hollywood	800-864-8377	Press 4.
Upromise	888-434-9111	Press 0.
UPS	800-742-5877	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
UPS (International)	800-782-7892	Say "Agent" at prompt.
US Airways	800-428-4322	Press 41.
US Bank	800-872-2657	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
US Bank Visa	800-285-8585	Say "operator" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
U.S. Cellular	888-944-9400	Press 0.
US Citizenship & Immigration	800-375-5283	Select language; press 2; press 4; at prompt press 0.
US Dept. of Edu - Financial Aid	800-433-3243	Select language then press *0.
US Dept. of Edu - Loans	800-848-0979	Don't press or say anything.
US Dept. of State - Passports	877-487-2778	Select language and then press 10.
US Dept. of Transportation	800-832-5660	Press 000.
US Dept. of Veterans Affairs	800-827-1000	Press 10.
US FBI	202-324-3000	Direct to human.
US Federal Trade Commission	877-382-4357	Press 450 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
US Fish & Wildlife	800-344-9453	Press 0.
US Food & Drug Admin	301-827-4573	Press 1.
US Homeland Security - FEMA	800-621-3362	At first prompt, select language; press 00.
US IRS	800-829-1040	Don't press or say anything.
US Mint	800-872-6468	Press 0.
US Postal Service	800-275-8777	Press 5 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
US Social Security Admin	800-772-1213	Press 1; press 0 at each prompt, until SS# is requested; enter SS#.
USA Today	800-872-0001	Press 0.
USAA	800-531-6095	Press 000#; at prompt press #.
USAA Investment Mgmt	800-531-8448	Press 0# at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Vanguard Funds	800-662-2739	Press 0.
Verizon Billing	888-780-3964	When prompted for phone number, say "Operator." Repeat if necessary.
Verizon Business	888-649-9500	Say "representative" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Verizon DSL	800-567-6789	Say "agent" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Verizon FiOS	888-553-1555	Say "operator" at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Verizon Fraud	888-483-7200	Direct to human.
Verizon (land line)	800-483-3000	Don't press or say anything.
Verizon Repair	800-275-2355	Direct to human at times, otherwise press 00.
Verizon Wireless	800-922-0204	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Victoria's Secret	800-411-5116	Press 0 at each prompt.
Virgin Atlantic	800-821-5438	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Virgin Mobile	888 292 8223	At prompt say, "English"; at prompt say, "something else"; at each additional prompt say, "live advisor" until mobile number is requested; enter mobile number.
Virginia Electric & Power	888-667-3000	Don't press or say anything.
Visa	800-847-2911	Press 0 at each prompt; ignoring messages.
Volkswagen	800-822-8987	At prompt, press 32; if offered, press 1 to take survey or 2 to decline.
Volvo	800-458-1552	Press 0, ignoring messages.
Vonage	866-243-4357	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
W Hotels	888-625-5144	Press 16.
Wachovia	800-922-4684	Press 00 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Wal-Mart	800-925-6278	Press 1433.
Wal-Mart Credit Card	866-888-3868	Don't press or say anything.
Wal-Mart.com	800-966-6546	Press * at each prompt, ignoring messges.
Walgreens	877-250-5823	Direct to human.
Wall Street Journal	800-568-7625	Press 0 at prompt; press # at prompt; press # at prompt.
Walt Disney World	407-824-2222	Direct to human.
Washington Mutual	800-356-0011	Don't press or say anything.
Washington Mutual	800-788-7000	At first prompt press 1. Then press # at each additional prompt, ignoring messages.
Washington Post	800-627-1150	Don't press or say anything.
Wells Fargo	800-869-3557	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Wells Fargo Credit	800-642-4720	Press 0# at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Western Union	800-634-1311	Press *##.
Westin Hotels	888-625-5144	Press 11.
Whirlpool	800-253-1301	Press 421; at prompt press #.
White House	202-456-1414	Direct to human.
Williams-Sonoma	877-812-6235	Don't press or say anything.
Wirefly	888-843-2485	Press # at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Wisconsin Electric	800-242-9137	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Xbox	800-469-9269	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.
Xerox	800-822-2979	Press 0.
XM Radio	800-967-2346	Press 0 and then say "customer service."
Yahoo	866-562-7219	Press 0 at each prompt, ignoring messages.

The Stoopid 1/14/08

2008-01-13T20:26:00.000-05:00

The ill-tempered man was walking his two little dogs around the abandoned school. I am supposed to believe that they were both on lead at the time of this incident. To me from the distance, one looked like it was on lead. The other I couldn't tell except to say that if it was on a lead, it must have been one of those horrible retractable things.

(F.Y.I. This particular abandoned school borders on some woods. Many people run their dogs there. This is common and acceptable behavior among the townsfolk. The cops don't care. Actually, the cops here don't care about much but that is another story in and of itself, having had several examples of their laissez-faire in my own life.)

My dog and her doggie friend the daemon dawg (mother-in-law's little terrier terror who genuinely loves me cuz I take her running several times a week) tore off to meet the cute little dogs. The foul, petty, little man was afraid of my dog (mid-size) and the daemon dawg (small).

He was yelling at me as I and my cane came up the side of the school building. Normally when meeting other dogs at the abandoned school, there is a quick "Is your dog friendly?" followed by a bit of pointing and the words, "Very friendly. Fixed." My dog is so friendly that dogs that usually fight other dogs don't fight with her. (The last dog did not care for his butt getting sniffed and that led to some rather uncomfortable and intricate situations).

man: "There is a dog law around these parts."
me: "The dogs are under my voice control."
man: (Trying to hit the smaller dog with his plastic shovel and not succeeding) "Some control."
me: (My dog went and sat on the curb. The daemon dawg who was the object of the attempted murder sensibly backed away from the dickless man and sat next to my dog.) "Mister, I am not in the mood to argue with you."
man: (the daemon dawg now a safe distance away from the man barked at him exactly three times) "Some control..blah blah blah..."

The dogs both ran back to me then and so we continued in a direction away from the disturbed man who should be locked up in the state mental place. In my unasked for opinion, he was afraid of all dogs except for his. I did not indicate anything further to the man who appeared to be looking for an argument for whatever reason which I could not ascertain.

The dogs were under my voice control. Just that my voice didn't tell them to do anything. They both handled themselves very well. and I was proud of the daemon dawg in particular who in times past would not have handled herself so well. Seriously though, I have been able to call my dogs (the one I own now and several others) off of a deer in the woods. That is pretty good voice control.

I do understand that technically my dog and the daemon dawg should not have run off to meet two potential doggie friends. Technically, he was correct. I know this. I can even accept this although I don't like it. I also understand that swinging at a small dog with a plastic shovel makes one look idiotic. I cannot say that a defense of "It's against the dog laws to attempt to hit a dog" would hold any weight since the jerky man could claim he was afraid of nine whole pounds of dog flesh. But I digress. And any reasons behind his bad behavior is not my business. And his bad behavior does not excuse my bad behavior. I chose not to argue with him because he was a troll of the f2f variety.

So I have plans. I am going to locate the whistle I have somewheres around here-- it is very shrill being one of them rescue-me type whistles for when one is lost in the woods-- and do a bit of training with both dogs in the fenced-in area there which used to be a ball field. I am going to teach them to come back at the sound of the whistle. Yup, sounds like a great plan. The dogs love training and I love doing it. Using the whistle will save on my voice which is rather soft even when projected. And that could also be useful in the woods as well.

spike

If I Were Meme

2008-01-11T20:42:00.000-05:00

snitched from xo_tara_xo_

1. If you were a shoe, what would you look like?
Canvas Hi-tops

2. If you were a t-shirt, what would you say?
Civil rights for all civils.

3. If your house caught on fire and was burning to the ground...what is the one thing you'd save and why?
I've been in a house fire. Basically, there is no real time to collect stuff or to go back in. Best thing to do is just to "Get Out." The stuff one loses can never really be replaced. Still, it is better than dieing.

4. If you were a book...would you read yourself?
I don't know what that means. I would have to be a talking book, right? If I were an actual regular book though, I would be any one of the Discworlds by Terry Pratchett. If I had to be a character in a book, I would be Death from the same series so I could SPEAK IN ALL CAPS just like that.

5. If you could do anything at all (without consequences), what would you do?
I would go back to smoking pot daily and add also hash and opium. Unfortunately, I cannot use drugs safely. (Sigh).

spike

Monday MemeDay of Spice

2008-01-06T19:52:00.000-05:00

snagged from Live Journal buddy idiotgrrl

Your Score: Juniper Berries

You scored 75% intoxication, 50% hotness, 100% complexity, and 75% craziness!

You are Juniper Berries!

You're a drunk. No, really. Cool it with the hooch. I used to be fermented but then I got tired of throwing up! -spike

Just kidding. You're really good at adding flavor to boring old life. You can be astringent at times, but once the harshness passes, you're quite relaxing. And you smell good, too. Okay, I like this one. -spike

Link: The Which Spice Are You Test written by jodiesattva on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Herding Cats

2007-12-17T16:22:00.000-05:00

My dog who is part border collie can herd our cats into the corner. When the younger kitty-- who knows not what fear is-- made an escape into the snows the other night via back door, the dog dashed around and around the deck until mate could catch the kitty and bring him back in. The kitty was cross about it. The dog-- delighted whenever she succeeds in rounding them up.

spike

You Tube video-- short-- with cowboys herding cats can be found at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pk7yqlTMvp8

Dog Snoring Problem

2007-12-13T17:53:00.000-05:00

Link

My friend RedBarron has a great solution for snoring dogs. Go take a peak at it. I dare ya.

The Hunter and the Bear

2007-12-07T22:48:00.000-05:00

This one is making the rounds on the web...

A hunter went into the woods to hunt bears. He saw one in the distance. When he went to aim his gun, the bear was gone and he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up and it was the bear. The bear asked "Were you going to shoot me?" to which the man replied "Yes, yes I was". The bear said to the man" I will give you two choices. I can either maul you and kill you right here, or you let me have anal sex with you." The hunter, not wishing to be mauled, consented to the anal sex. After the bear was finished, the man went home, vowing to kill the bear.

About a week later, the man returned to the area looking for the bear. just as before, he saw the bear, but when he aimed his gun, the bear was gone, and he felt a familiar tap on his shoulder. It was the bear. The bear told him" I'll give you the same two options." The man, again not wanting to be killed, consented to anal sex again. As the man crawled home, he again vowed to kill the bear.

Another week passed, and the man returned to the area to kill the bear. Again, he saw the bear, and again he raised his gun, and again, the bear was gone. He cringed as he felt that all familiar tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw the bear. The bear looked at the man and said, "You're not in this for the huntin', are you?"

Woe to Pagan Poop

2007-11-28T00:19:00.000-05:00

Go here:

http://www.outofthedark.com/WitchTower/Portolets/

for an example of a Christian man discriminating against pagan poop.
The resultant mp3 is not to be missed.

sapphoq n friends

Four Years

2007-11-11T19:03:00.000-05:00

Last week I passed my four year anniversary since my car accident and my traumatic brain injury. I thought somehow I would be working by now. Although I am closer to working now than I've been. Yeah, I am writing a novel and that is cool. To me though, that doesn't really "count" until the contract has been signed and an advance check is in my sweaty hands. I have one potential job substituting for a dishwasher should they get sick and another possibility to work for a friend who is manager at a restaurant. I don't think I will mind washing dishes once in awhile. Working at the friend's restaurant-- well, I gotta start over again somewhere. I haven't even been able to get an interview to deliver newspapers. So I will take what I can get and remember it is just for now, just until I can find something else.

I still have my vision problems, the mild expressive aphasia, and the occasional vertigo. As far as medical experts say, traumatic brain injury is permanent. We improve over time at some stuff, especially if we keep working at it but the basic brain injury itself is there and will be there. Folks say that "the brain can regenerate isn't that amazing?" sort of thing until I am sick of hearing it. Again, I will tell yas that yes, some neurons can regenerate however they do not always reconnect to the correct halves [causing cognitive slowdowns] or at all to anything [causing a central nervous system tremor which yes I do have].

I will never be who I was. I won't lie for the sake of the comfort of others and claim that who I am is a new improved model because it isn't. I don't believe that "all things happen for a reason" or that "I'm right where some god wants me to be" or that "there are no true coincidences." What I think is that life is sacred-- neither fair nor unfair-- and that it is the finite part of our selves that requires and maybe even demands meaning, thus we create it. I don't particularly feel bound by any compulsion to have reasons and lessons for learning. I think that life is far beyond our petty little explanations. Most other folks I know find comfort in believing that there is some sort of grand plan. That stuff doesn't help me though so I dumped it.

Some things have improved. My hearing-- which was supersonic before my accident and right on the borderline of needing a hearing aid or two afterwards-- has re-established itself into the supersonic category as per the last audiology test this summer. The addition of a c-pap machine after two sleep studies and a diagnosis of sleep apnea has really helped me to have a life [although it takes me much longer than average to get into REM sleep, at least I am dreaming again at night]. I keep working on my aphasia and now most folks don't notice it. I got involved with an incredimail creators' group [thanks Jeremy Crow] and that has been of immense help to me in restoring motivation.

If the accident didn't happen, we would have been better off financially and I would not have had my career viciously kicked out from under me. If suffering builds character and strength, I certainly could have done with a bit less of both of those things. In a perfect world, folks who smoke pot would be picked up by the magic yellow submarine bus and driven anywheres they had to go. [The driver who ran my car into a house was high on marijuana]. In a perfect world, we wouldn't need lawyers to protect us from our places of employment after we get hurt, little kids wouldn't be abused or die of starvation and diseases and all stuff like that. But it is not a perfect world. So I just have to do the best I can [most days] with what I got. As Nathaniel Branden would say, "It is what it is."

By this time next year, I hope that my novel will be written and submitted. I also hope to be working at least part-time at a job that I can tolerate. Still be married and in love with my husband and he with me. Saving money for my next cross-country trip. [I want to go every year or every two years for the rest of my life]. And still enjoying my animals, the woods, and life.

spike

I am writing a novel, as I've said before and thus am behind once again in visiting all of your blogs and commenting. Sorry for that. I will get to visiting all of yas to leave comments over the next few weeks or so.

And anyone who has a dog, if you haven't watched The Dog Whisperer, you ought to give it a whirl. He has most excellent ideas about dog psychology and communication. My current dog who is really angelic has become even more perfect since I started doing some of the things he suggests.

Three for Thee

2007-10-26T20:43:00.000-04:00

Hail to the gang from sapphoqnfriends

A little boy comes home from school and tells his father, "I got an F in math today."

His father replies, "What happened?"

The boy says, "Well, my teacher asked me, 'What's 3 times 2', and I said '6.'"

The father replies, "Well, that's correct."

The boy says, "I know. Then she asked me, 'What's 2 times 3.'"

The father then replies, "Well, what the f*ck is the difference?"

The boy says, " That's exactly what I said Dad!"

* * *

A young boy went up to his father and asked him, "Dad, what is the difference between 'potentially' and 'realistically'?"