More bullshit from another asshole with a blog

Not dead yet
26Dec09

Posted by wafwot

New Laptops Stealing a line from Mark Twain, “the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.” Yeah. It’s been months since I’ve updated this stale little hobby of mine, so I guess I should spend some time typing an update. I have no excuses, except the same old bullshit that always keeps me from it; long commutes, work, sleep, and far too many doctor appointments. It’s my own personal Groundhog Day.

Hopefully, I’ll be able to do more frequent updates thanks to two – yes, two – new laptop computers I just got. I recently did some web page design for a tiny Seattle company, including an online store, and with the proceeds I opted to get a new laptop. My old laptop had seen better days. The hinges were so loose the 15″ display wouldn’t stay open; it would crash on my hands or flat backwards. The some keys on the keyboard wouldn’t type a character, and the battery was as useless as a limp dick in a whorehouse. So, a new lappy was long overdue.

Dude, I got a Dell… a Studio XPS 16, with an Intel Core 2 Duo P8700 2.53 GHz CPU, 500 GB hard drive, 4 GB of RAM, ATI Radeon Mobility 512 MB video, 15.6″ hi-def LCD wide-screen display with two megapixel webcam, dual layer slot-load DVD burner, 802.11n wifi, a backlit keyboard… oh, and something called Windows 7 Home Premium. It’s one sweet, kick-ass machine, even with that Microsoft virus on it.

One of the add-ons Dell tries to up-sell people with – along with faggoty-looking colors, carrying cases, services agreements, lo-jack services, and antivirus software – was a netbook. With the purchase of the Studio XPS 16, I was able to get the Mini 10v netbook for only $80 more. Eighty dollars? Who the hell wouldn’t buy a mini laptop for $80? I’m actually typing this blog update on it right now! It has an Intel Atom N270 CPU, 1 GB of RAM, a 160 GB hard drive, a 10.1″ LCD display, and Ubuntu netbook Linux 8.10 installed!

Of course, there was no way I was going to leave the factory-installed operating system on either machine. The netbook now dual boots between Mac OS X 10.6.2 (also known as “Snow Leopard“) and Ubuntu Linux 9.10 (codenamed “Karmic Koala“). It was a challenge to install a new OS on the netbook since there’s no optical drive. Everything had to be done with flash drives. I used three different USB flash drives to install both operating systems, with a bit of help from mydellmini.com for the Mac side of things.

For the big laptop, I trashed the Dell recovery partitions, and set it up to dual boot between Ubuntu 9.10 and – against my better judgement – Windows 7 (for those times I need a Windows machine, like hacking my phone). Dual booting with Windows was about as much fun as masturbating with steel wool and iodine. Windows is like an only-child with ADD, it doesn’t play well with others. Linux is like the stoned child of a hippie, and doesn’t give a shit. But I got it done, and it’s pretty fucking cool.

This is a short update, but I’ll make a resolution to update more frequently in 2010. I gave up making resolutions many many years ago because I could never go long without breaking them. Don’t wager on me keeping this one, either. It’s impossible to teach an old dog new tricks.

Obamacares Not
23Aug09

Posted by wafwot

Dont Tread On MeThe 1,017 page America's Affordable Health Choices Act of 2009 (a.k.a H.R. 3200, a.k.a. Obamacare) has become the latest hot-button topic in America. The bill was introduced on July 14, 2009, and luckily that ignominious gang of geezers couldn’t shove their two reams of bullshit up our collective unlubed ass before their August recess. Yep, two weeks is all they gave themselves to pass the single biggest and most expensive piece of legislation ever in American history. Most of those elected asshats didn’t even read the goddamn bill because — get this — it’s too fucking big and they didn’t have time!

The Obama Health Care Plan is comprised of two parts. The first part Obamacare was buried in the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 (a.k.a. ARRA, a.k.a. the $787,000 million Stimulus Bill) which has already been signed into law by President B. Hussein Obama in February. The second part of Obamacare (H.R. 3200) is currently being debated in Congress and town halls across America. I’m sure you’ve all heard liberals who support H.R. 3200 say that there won’t be any rationing of health care or “death panels.” Even the President himself said, “Great Britain has a system of socialized medicine. Nobody is talking about doing that.” They’re fucking liars. Every one of them. As far as I can tell, rationing of health care will be done through a Council, equivalent to the National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence (NICE) of the British National Health Service. The name given to this panel is The Federal Coordinating Council For Comparative Effectiveness Research, or the “Council,” and has already been funded with $1,100 million (a big numbers way of saying $1.1 billion, with a ‘B’) from the Porkulus Bill. Here’s an official link introducing us to the grand gaggle of douchebags that make up the Death Panel, err, I mean the “Council.” It’s these motherfuckers that will use some super-secret government “formula of approval or rejection of treatment for patients based upon the cost per treatment divided by the number of years the patient will benefit from the treatment.” There’s far too much bullshit to cover here in my blog. I’d look like this typing pages and pages and pages and pages.

Is there any wonder why people are starting to oppose Obamacare in droves? When Americans started reading then opposing this polished turd, they started confronting the politicians at their town hall meetings, if they didn’t cowardly cancel their town hall meetings for fear of opposition. The Bill contains provisions that the sick, elderly, and disabled members of society could face the prospect of government bureaucrats determining whether they deserve health care. Of course, this brought old people out of Country Buffet and into the town halls. Suddenly, dissenters were being called all sorts of horrible things by the very people they elected! Stench trench of the House, Nancy Pelosi referred to honest, hard-working Americans who, in her eyes, are “drowning out opposing views” of Obamacare as “simply un-American,”astroturf,” and said they were bringing swastikas into town hall meetings. Hey Nancy, I think demonstrating against issues we don’t agree with to be very American, indeed! It’s our First Amendment right to freedom of speech, so shut the fuck up!

Even in my own home state, Democrat Representative Brian Baird said the opposing behaviors of town hall members “was reminiscent of the kinds of things that drove Timothy McVeigh to bomb the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City…” Holy fuckballs! Really? I personally oppose Barry‘s health care reform plans. Does that make me a mass-murdering truck bomber? I don’t think so. When did it become un-American to stand up and oppose something you feel is wrong? Why does the pro-health care reform camp feel the need to call you names just because you don’t agree with them?

Back in November, just after the messiah won the election, I wrote in my blog that “many feel we’ve turned a corner on racism in the country by electing Obama, [but] I have a sinking feeling that we’ve begun a new chapter that will only widen the rift.” Unfortunately, I was right. The liberal left Kool-Aid drinkers have taken to calling ANYONE — not just white Republicans — who dares oppose King Hussein, a “racist.” Somehow, calling Obamacare a socialist plan is code words for “racism.” Attending a Tea Party protest makes you a “functionally retarded adult,” a “teabagger,” and a “racist.” I got news for you, Jeanane Garofalo, you puss-infected regurgitated cum bubble, opposing Obama’s policies has nothing — absolutely NOTHING — to do with his skin color. I don’t give two juicy squirts of goat shit if he’s black, white, Latino, Asian, or fucking purple. I don’t like the idea of a government-run health plan, insurance reform, co-op, or whatever the hell they’re calling it this day. Laissez-faire, morbleu! Laissez-faire!!

I’ve even had first-hand experience with this far left propaganda bullshit. A friend of mine on Facebook (who I’ll call “Liz”) pasted some anti-H.R. 3200 material from someone’s blog on her wall and pleaded that politicians read the bill before passing it. This lead to one of the people on her friends list to deride her for her opinions. I won’t use his real name; instead I’ll call him “Barney” (after a certain Massachusetts Representative, and the fact he really likes Fruity Pebbles, if you get my drift). “Barney” started by saying Liz “should turn off Fox News and read the entire document for [herself].” He said he was disappointed with her and remembered her being more independent.” What the hell?

I sarcastically fired back at this ass pirate in defense of “Liz,” saying she should stop watching FNC and start watching the socialist propaganda that the White House and NBC want us to believe. I made fun of the evil Glenn Beck and the un-American Fox News, and suggested that “Barney” read the bill himself. I told him to get off his elitist high-horse, stop looking down his nose at people with different points of view, and stop infringing upon “Liz’s” Constitutional right to watch and say whatever the hell she wants.

This is when the name calling started. “Barney’s” response was he had no problem with “Liz” expressing her opinion (which obviously he did), but didn’t want her “spewing the untruths that the racist-backwards-religious nutjob-rednecks of the country keep yealing,” [sic] then proceeded to say she didn’t seem too bright. Wow! Way to debate the issue, you ingrown sphincter hair! “Barney” continued by schooling me on my elitist comment, saying, “an elitist would want something only for themselves (healthcare for only a few), not everybody (universal and affordable coverage).” He obviously feels that the Goverment should just provide almost-free health care for all, and let our future generations pay the bill. Dickhead. “Barney” then insulted my intelligence level and told me to “go run a minority out of town before NASCAR comes on and leave the policies of the country to the adults.” Jesus, speaking of regurgitated cum bubbles. This guy’s a 55-gallon drum full of them! Suddenly I’m a racist for opposing Obamacare and defending “Liz’s” right to oppose the same? Unbelievable.

Again, I replied, being very cautious not to call him any names. However, I did call him a “typical member of the left cult, happily drinking [his] Obama fruit drink,” an indirect slam on his sexuality, which he was obviously too goddamn stupid (or drunk) to pick up on. I continued by telling him to watch and read news sources from both the liberal and conservative sides and form his own opinions based on truths, instead of insulting people. I proceeded to tell this puckering anus that his “paradigmatic views prove [him] to be the ignorant one,” then corrected his definition of “elitist” as belonging to a select or favored group. “Barney” tried to fight back, but couldn’t. Instead, he accused me of name-calling (which I didn’t), then said he’s never “seen a bigger group with more of a superiority complex than [Republicans].” Riiiight! It’s the Republicans that have the “we won get over it” attitude, trying to push two trillion (with a fucking ‘T’) dollars worth of government spending down America’s throat.

I replied by saying he doesn’t know me, and told his holiness that I’m an agnostic Independent that sided with the liberals for decades. His only response was he got whiplash from all my “spin,” I should say ‘Hi’ to Satan when I see him, I “strike [him] as the worst type of person than can exist,” and he has “more respect for child molesters than the likes of [me].” Right, I guess the pillow-biting dumb ass missed the irony of calling me the “worst type of person than can exist.” Whatever, you vaginal blood fart. You’re the one that respects child molesters, then call me the worst type of person? See “Barney,” that is spin. Pull the black cock out of your balloon knot and pay attention!

I could go on, but I don’t want to give “Barney the cocksucker” any more attention than I already have. And yes, I’m fully aware that I called “Barney” all kinds of disgusting names in the above paragraphs, but I wasn’t doing it during the debate like some childish grade schooler. I don’t care, and my disclaimer gives me the right to say whatever the fuck I want on my blog.

It is a sad period in our Country’s history that we cannot debate the issues without resorting to name-calling and labeling. The problem is people see the names or labels that get applied, and don’t judge for themselves based on truths. As Americans, we are not only given the right to freedom of speech, but we also have the right to question our government and the ideals of others. In fact it is our duty to question our government and voice our opposition, for if we don’t, we are nothing but sheep being lead to slaughter.

Let’s hope that the Democrats pull their collective heads out of the ass, and that a government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Fear the doctor, not the disease!
11Jul09

Posted by wafwot

PhlebotomyJesus fucking Christ! When will this medical joy ride end? It’s truly amazing to me that a simple blood test for cholesterol can lead to months of doctor visits, there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight.

We surveyed three so-called doctors and asked, “How many needles have you jammed into Jim’s arms in the month of June?” The top answer is on the board. Survey said15! Yes, fifteen fucking needles! Holy Mother of Chris Chambers, my arms look like I’ve been speedballing! Over the past month, I’ve been stuck for allergy blood tests, intravenous contrast, an arterial blood gas test, phlebotomies, and numerous CBCs. It’s a good goddamn thing I don’t have trypanophobia, huh? Seriously, look at the size of a 16-gauge needle compared to a US penny. It’s fucking huge! Funny thing, though, the nurses that stick me with that railroad spike of a needle are professionals. They leave a small scab and slight bruising that disappears within a week. The lab techs, however, are amateurs! They stick me with a tiny 22-gauge needle to draw blood for a CBC, yet blow my vein out frequently leaving a giant hematoma. Look at this cell phone photo! Jesus, I look like a domestic violence victim!

Last time I told you that I had an abdominal ultrasound to check the size of my liver and spleen. Luckily I didn’t have hepatosplenomegaly, but we were no closer to finding the cause of the polycythemia vera my hematologist believes I may have. So, I was referred to a pulmonologist who put me through several uncomfortable tests.

The first was an Echocardiogram. Just like the abdominal ultrasound of my liver and spleen, the cardiac sonographer slathered me with conductive goo and jammed the transducer into my ribs and chest. I like it rough, baby! After the first pass, he injected me with two milliliters of a microbubble contrast called Definity. Did you know it only takes about four seconds for blood to completely circulate your body? I didn’t. Anyway, I guess the frequency of the sound waves bursts the microbubbles after a while, so he pushed another 2 mL to finish the job. Of course, it wasn’t until a few weeks later that I read Definity can kill. Awesome! Can you imagine being killed by bubbles which are smaller than red blood cells? We are such frail, gentle snowflakes. According to the pulmonologist, my heart is okay. Finally! Now I can have bacon on my Ultimate Cheeseburger!

Next on the “Let’s See How Much We Can Bilk From His Insurance” list of procedures was a couple of Pulmonary Function Tests; spirometric tests and a body plethysmograph. The spirometric tests measure a bunch of shit my lungs should be doing; like how much I blow, how fast I blow, how much I suck, and other headache inducing functions. For the plethysmograph, I was locked in a sealed glass booth that reminded me of the Grab-O-Lux that killed Kenny, and tried to suck air through a mouthpiece. Here’s a shitty cell phone picture of the booth. The purpose of this was to measure the volume within my lungs using Boyle's Law to determine if I have any disease or airway restrictions in my lungs. What did these tests prove? I have asthma! DUH!

Then I had an appointment for a polysomnogram, a fancy word for “sleeping in a strange bed with wires on my head as some creepy voyeuristic weirdo watches me with infrared cameras.” Here’s a frightening photo of me wired up for my session of peeping tomfoolery. The sleep study was ordered to determine if sleep apnea might be causing any breathing issues. I don’t think I have sleep apnea, but what the fuck do I know? I feel like I get restorative sleep at night, I don’t have daytime sleepiness, and Tina says I don’t stop breathing at night (she ought to know, she has insomnia and watches/listens to me sleep). I thought for sure I would never be able to sleep with all that gadgetry soldered to my cranuim. But four hours sleep the night before coupled with no caffeine for two days put me out like a… draining battery. Result of the sleep study? Doc says I have a slight touch of sleep apnea. Yeah, right.

After a follow-up with the pulmonologist, I was scheduled for a chest CT. This wasn’t going to be fun. A chest CT is equivalent to 58 chest X-rays. Holy shitballs! I was sure I was going to have gills, or a third nipple by the time I got home. Anyway, I had to drive to Everett for the CT scan. My paperwork said to show up 15 minutes early and expect the procedure to last an hour. My scheduled appointment time came and went, I had already stood in a hallway 15 minutes waiting to check-in while some casino indian fuckstain frustrated the admissions woman, who was obviously new. Finally, “Chief Sits With Hemorrhoids” was done, and I was able to check in. I wasn’t seated for a minute, before they called my name, and instantly my sphincter slammed shut like the blast doors at NORAD. They led me into a room where the CT scanner was and told me to lay down on “couch,” face down. Uh, excuse me? The couch? It was a skinny little table. I was somewhat surprised they didn’t make me empty my pockets, take off my shoes, or rub my belly and pat my head before laying down on the “couch.” They quickly told me to listen to the breathing queues, and began the scan, like they were late to a lunch date. What the hell? The couch lifted my fat ass up and positioned me in front of the opening. Then the couch moved me into the opening, then somewhat quickly moved me in and out, like I was a huge dildo being thrust into a giant radioactive minge. When the actual scan was taking place, the couch moved me in a few inches at a time, pausing to take a series of image slices as the X-ray tubes rotated around me. After two scans, they had me turn over face up on the couch and proceeded to irradiate me again. Bring on the freak tail! After the scan, they bum rushed me out the door and I was walking to my truck. Jesus! Did I step in shit and reek to high hell? The scan took less time than I spent waiting for Chief Takes Too Long. On the way home, I stopped and picked up a liter of Sprite, because I had a phlebotomy in Coupeville in just a couple hours. Here’s a cool picture of the unit of blood they drained from me.

That’s all I got for now. Sorry it took so long for an update, but y’all can eat me if I seem to be taking too long. Take it easy my gentle snowflakes, and hopefully I’ll have something more to post about before the end of July.