Thursday, July 31, 2008
Oyasumi-nasai
(
5)
I leave you tonight with the sexy young woman to our (non-political) right. Those were the days!
In recent developments, I gave Kootch a 20 dollar bill for a beer run with the instructions: 'Go to an unusual beer shop, and/or buy an unusual six pack. I will like whatever you decide. Promise.' Such is my paranoia. (being gassed here)
Kootch pocketed the twenty and took off. She returned about 30 minutes later with a six pack of Coors 16 ouncers, from a booze shop she had rarely if ever visited. Good girl!
And I just opened her door with one of her 16-ouncers in hand and said, 'Cheers!' Kootch replied to the effect that there would be no more beer runs tonight. I replied to the effect that she need not worry about that, then wished her goodnight.
Which leaves only you and me. Hmm.
This might be a good time to warn you that I will revisit TMD next week. Meanwhile, I am totally delighted by the rise of the Native American tribal focus on gambling. The Indians are milking us! About time!
5)I leave you tonight with the sexy young woman to our (non-political) right. Those were the days!
In recent developments, I gave Kootch a 20 dollar bill for a beer run with the instructions: 'Go to an unusual beer shop, and/or buy an unusual six pack. I will like whatever you decide. Promise.' Such is my paranoia. (being gassed here)
Kootch pocketed the twenty and took off. She returned about 30 minutes later with a six pack of Coors 16 ouncers, from a booze shop she had rarely if ever visited. Good girl!
And I just opened her door with one of her 16-ouncers in hand and said, 'Cheers!' Kootch replied to the effect that there would be no more beer runs tonight. I replied to the effect that she need not worry about that, then wished her goodnight.
Which leaves only you and me. Hmm.
This might be a good time to warn you that I will revisit TMD next week. Meanwhile, I am totally delighted by the rise of the Native American tribal focus on gambling. The Indians are milking us! About time!
What a Delicious Choice!
(4)
Which brings us naturally to the question of Obama. Clearly, Black Tribalism exists in America today. Therefore Black Tribal Memory also exists. This brings up the question of who to vote for.
You have two choices: McCain the Republican, or Obama the Democrat. Which?
It seems to me that McCain is the Jewish neocon choice: The Jews can control McCain to further their Israeli agenda, not to mention their circumcision agenda. Furthermore, McCain is basically - at his age - set in stone, unlikely to be able to reason out the various problems which confront a very complex nation in very complex times. McCain will perform like a trained seal.
Obama, on the other hand, is a 'black.' More than 90 percent of American Blacks will vote for Obama. It is a tribal thing. They think of Obama as the Black Jesus who will save their collective lazy black ass from the more onerous alternative of slow assimilation which might take another 100 years of hard work. But on the plus side, Obama is extremely intelligent and articulate - not to mention young and mentally dexterious.
What a delicious choice!
Question: which candidate do you vote for? Which Tribal Memory do you want to contend with for the next four to eight years?
Which brings us naturally to the question of Obama. Clearly, Black Tribalism exists in America today. Therefore Black Tribal Memory also exists. This brings up the question of who to vote for.
You have two choices: McCain the Republican, or Obama the Democrat. Which?
It seems to me that McCain is the Jewish neocon choice: The Jews can control McCain to further their Israeli agenda, not to mention their circumcision agenda. Furthermore, McCain is basically - at his age - set in stone, unlikely to be able to reason out the various problems which confront a very complex nation in very complex times. McCain will perform like a trained seal.
Obama, on the other hand, is a 'black.' More than 90 percent of American Blacks will vote for Obama. It is a tribal thing. They think of Obama as the Black Jesus who will save their collective lazy black ass from the more onerous alternative of slow assimilation which might take another 100 years of hard work. But on the plus side, Obama is extremely intelligent and articulate - not to mention young and mentally dexterious.
What a delicious choice!
Question: which candidate do you vote for? Which Tribal Memory do you want to contend with for the next four to eight years?
Tribal Memory Disorder
(3)
This very funny piece got my attention some time ago because it had to do with brain imaging. The subject turned out to be a Jewish male who devoted 30 percent of his brain to 'obsessing over the Holocaust.' Quite funny. You should read it. I thought, 'This Jew should be devoting that 30 percent of his brainpower to thinking about sex. He is obviously suffering from Tribal Memory Disorder. (I should mention that TMD is my own diagnosis. I have been 'diagnosed' by Jews many times over many years, and I thought it was about time for me to return the favor. This is it. This is my revenge.)
I've been thinking about TMD ever since reading that piece. Clearly, Jews are the most obvious candidates for this group diagnosis; however various other tribes (American Indians, indigenous peoples of Central and South America, and other indigenous peoples all over the globe, especially in Africa, suffer - by definition - from this same disorder to some extent. The phenomenon of 'tribal memory' is to blame, and the suffering is more than merely internal and individual. TMD influences individuals who are members of a tribe. And since many (or most) tribal members suffer from the same disorder, that tribe will, as a group, act in what seems to be revengeful ways against The Other (outsiders). Thus, a Jew-dominated American medical system conspired with a Jew-dominated legal system and a Jew-dominated government to sexually mutilate an entire nation for 'health reasons.' It was a kind of tribal revenge.
Notice that the tribal conspiracy was unspoken, yet every conspirator knew exactly what was going on, at some level.
The problem, of course, was that the tribe was taking out its revenge against the wrong people! 'The Jews had been persecuted for 4000 years' and somebody had to pay. The persecutors were long dead, but The Tribe lived in the midst of an uncircumcised, unsuspecting, and innocent people, against whom it took its revenge. Shame on The Jews.
This very funny piece got my attention some time ago because it had to do with brain imaging. The subject turned out to be a Jewish male who devoted 30 percent of his brain to 'obsessing over the Holocaust.' Quite funny. You should read it. I thought, 'This Jew should be devoting that 30 percent of his brainpower to thinking about sex. He is obviously suffering from Tribal Memory Disorder. (I should mention that TMD is my own diagnosis. I have been 'diagnosed' by Jews many times over many years, and I thought it was about time for me to return the favor. This is it. This is my revenge.)
I've been thinking about TMD ever since reading that piece. Clearly, Jews are the most obvious candidates for this group diagnosis; however various other tribes (American Indians, indigenous peoples of Central and South America, and other indigenous peoples all over the globe, especially in Africa, suffer - by definition - from this same disorder to some extent. The phenomenon of 'tribal memory' is to blame, and the suffering is more than merely internal and individual. TMD influences individuals who are members of a tribe. And since many (or most) tribal members suffer from the same disorder, that tribe will, as a group, act in what seems to be revengeful ways against The Other (outsiders). Thus, a Jew-dominated American medical system conspired with a Jew-dominated legal system and a Jew-dominated government to sexually mutilate an entire nation for 'health reasons.' It was a kind of tribal revenge.
Notice that the tribal conspiracy was unspoken, yet every conspirator knew exactly what was going on, at some level.
The problem, of course, was that the tribe was taking out its revenge against the wrong people! 'The Jews had been persecuted for 4000 years' and somebody had to pay. The persecutors were long dead, but The Tribe lived in the midst of an uncircumcised, unsuspecting, and innocent people, against whom it took its revenge. Shame on The Jews.
The Soap Opera Solution
(2)
Tonight's music comes with some video. You will love both.
For those readers who do not like my version of the Jewish God: Design your own God. Those of you who think the idea of creating a god is blasphemous should read the Very Old and Odious Testament (VOOT), wherein ancient Jewish scribes created their very own god in their very own image, who then returned the favor by making The Jews his very own chosen people... for a penile price. (Check the nearest dick.)
The above link can be found at TPM online, the philosopher's magazine, under the subtitle, 'Games and Activities.' Go there... if you dare.
And if you dared, then this site might also interest you: Atheist Quotes. It seems to me that the title is a misnomer which should be amended to something more in the 'agnostic' realm. Was Thomas Jefferson an Atheist? Were the Founding Fathers, Atheists?
Afraid to Ask is a medical site which answers the kinds of questions you would prefer not to ask your doctor.
How Science Gets Swiftboated is a very pertinent piece given the current political environment, where Jewish Fools like Ben Stein and Glen Beck secrete their odious ideas into our Streaming Circumcised Media.
The Soap Opera Solution. This very interesting blurb describes - without realzing it - how 'The War on Terror' will eventually be won. See what I mean?
The Source of Terrorism. This explains why American addiction to SUVs is not compatible with Israeli foriegn policy.
Tonight's music comes with some video. You will love both.
For those readers who do not like my version of the Jewish God: Design your own God. Those of you who think the idea of creating a god is blasphemous should read the Very Old and Odious Testament (VOOT), wherein ancient Jewish scribes created their very own god in their very own image, who then returned the favor by making The Jews his very own chosen people... for a penile price. (Check the nearest dick.)
The above link can be found at TPM online, the philosopher's magazine, under the subtitle, 'Games and Activities.' Go there... if you dare.
And if you dared, then this site might also interest you: Atheist Quotes. It seems to me that the title is a misnomer which should be amended to something more in the 'agnostic' realm. Was Thomas Jefferson an Atheist? Were the Founding Fathers, Atheists?
Afraid to Ask is a medical site which answers the kinds of questions you would prefer not to ask your doctor.
How Science Gets Swiftboated is a very pertinent piece given the current political environment, where Jewish Fools like Ben Stein and Glen Beck secrete their odious ideas into our Streaming Circumcised Media.
The Soap Opera Solution. This very interesting blurb describes - without realzing it - how 'The War on Terror' will eventually be won. See what I mean?
The Source of Terrorism. This explains why American addiction to SUVs is not compatible with Israeli foriegn policy.
Little Did They Know!
(1)
Continuing with the drog in (1) below: The situation rapidly became so creepy that I decided to leave. Upon opening the door to the examination room I discovered a security guard stationed outside. Uhoh. I asked the guard whether he had any objection to my leaving the building. He replied in the negative. I headed for the building entrance, two raving maniacs and one guard in tow (the guard, the faggot Massey, and his nurse). Massey and the nurse were talking to me as if I were a child, entreating me to allow them to transport me downtown for tests immediately. I noticed an ambulance outside the building but did not realize it was reserved for me. I did not notice any ACSD squad cars in the dim light. I would soon discover that there were at least two well-hidden squad cars somewhere in the large parking lot. The raving idiots followed me all the way to my car. Just as I inserted my key to unlock my car I heard a voice behind me say, 'Do not open that door.' I thought it was one of the trio behind me. 'Fuck you,' I thought, as I opened the door.
I was immediately 'assaulted' (there is no other word for it) from behind by an ACSD 'creep' (there is no other word for it) who had not identified himself as a police officer. Seems that the faggot Massey had called the ACSD and claimed that I had told him I was going to 'take out' Walter Gerash. The idiots believed him, of course. It's their job. Furthermore, thay had already been well briefed, in what turned out to be a conspiracy engineered by Gerash.
To make a long story short, I was then strapped down in the ambulance and taken to a Kaiser Permanente station at some (unnamed) hospital. A few interviews and seven or eight hours later I was transported to the looney bin behind Lutheran Hospital in downtown Denver. I eventually called Kootch and told her where to pick up the car. Kootch took the bus to Kaiser and rescued the car. Kootch rescued me from the looney bin the next afternoon after it became clear to the idiots at the looney bin that I was not a threat. Little did they know how much of a threat I would eventually become!
Continuing with the drog in (1) below: The situation rapidly became so creepy that I decided to leave. Upon opening the door to the examination room I discovered a security guard stationed outside. Uhoh. I asked the guard whether he had any objection to my leaving the building. He replied in the negative. I headed for the building entrance, two raving maniacs and one guard in tow (the guard, the faggot Massey, and his nurse). Massey and the nurse were talking to me as if I were a child, entreating me to allow them to transport me downtown for tests immediately. I noticed an ambulance outside the building but did not realize it was reserved for me. I did not notice any ACSD squad cars in the dim light. I would soon discover that there were at least two well-hidden squad cars somewhere in the large parking lot. The raving idiots followed me all the way to my car. Just as I inserted my key to unlock my car I heard a voice behind me say, 'Do not open that door.' I thought it was one of the trio behind me. 'Fuck you,' I thought, as I opened the door.
I was immediately 'assaulted' (there is no other word for it) from behind by an ACSD 'creep' (there is no other word for it) who had not identified himself as a police officer. Seems that the faggot Massey had called the ACSD and claimed that I had told him I was going to 'take out' Walter Gerash. The idiots believed him, of course. It's their job. Furthermore, thay had already been well briefed, in what turned out to be a conspiracy engineered by Gerash.
To make a long story short, I was then strapped down in the ambulance and taken to a Kaiser Permanente station at some (unnamed) hospital. A few interviews and seven or eight hours later I was transported to the looney bin behind Lutheran Hospital in downtown Denver. I eventually called Kootch and told her where to pick up the car. Kootch took the bus to Kaiser and rescued the car. Kootch rescued me from the looney bin the next afternoon after it became clear to the idiots at the looney bin that I was not a threat. Little did they know how much of a threat I would eventually become!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
64 Thousand Years
(7)
My conversation with god (below) was not at all surprising. I am, after all, a modern human being with all that implies. I detected a cutoff. God was extremely pissed by our most recent conversation. I didn't even bother to dial 666 again. I retracted the antenna and dialed Lucifer. Lucifer answered immediately:
----------
me: You following recent political events?
lu: As usual. Very interesting.
me: My recent conversation with WHTZSNM resulted in a real disconnect. What was the problem?
lu: Did you get it on VR?
me: Yes. Here it is: (I transfer the entire conversation via Universenet. Lucifer analyses the conversation)
lu: God is attempting to hide His ignorance. He likes you. He wants you to admire Him.
me: What was it with the oil?
lu: As you know, all instructions for managing The Universe were destroyed in the Big Bang. The Universe has been running on autopilot ever since.
me: Yes. I know. So what?
lu: God is pretending to be in charge. He cannot accept that you know what you know. God is in denial.
me: Thank you for your take on this problem! By the way, I am wondering whether you ever heard if a fella name of Tim Russert.
lu: Yes.
me: How's he doing?
lu: Quite well. He was sentenced to 64 thousand years in Purgatory. Lucky, lucky guy.
me: Give Tim my regards.
lu: Done.
----------
My conversation with god (below) was not at all surprising. I am, after all, a modern human being with all that implies. I detected a cutoff. God was extremely pissed by our most recent conversation. I didn't even bother to dial 666 again. I retracted the antenna and dialed Lucifer. Lucifer answered immediately:
----------
me: You following recent political events?
lu: As usual. Very interesting.
me: My recent conversation with WHTZSNM resulted in a real disconnect. What was the problem?
lu: Did you get it on VR?
me: Yes. Here it is: (I transfer the entire conversation via Universenet. Lucifer analyses the conversation)
lu: God is attempting to hide His ignorance. He likes you. He wants you to admire Him.
me: What was it with the oil?
lu: As you know, all instructions for managing The Universe were destroyed in the Big Bang. The Universe has been running on autopilot ever since.
me: Yes. I know. So what?
lu: God is pretending to be in charge. He cannot accept that you know what you know. God is in denial.
me: Thank you for your take on this problem! By the way, I am wondering whether you ever heard if a fella name of Tim Russert.
lu: Yes.
me: How's he doing?
lu: Quite well. He was sentenced to 64 thousand years in Purgatory. Lucky, lucky guy.
me: Give Tim my regards.
lu: Done.
----------
An Embarrassing Question
(6)
Those of you who follow this blog will no doubt laugh at WHTZSNM's dialog: you understand that the Jewish god is first of all dishonest, incapable of telling the truth. But you like Him nevertheless because He seems to mirror you to some extent. I understand: we tend to choose gods we can feel comfortable with. Jews feel comfortable with a totally phoney, lying god. Everybody knows that. I decided to press the matter:
----------
me: Jews live in Israel.
gd: I knew that.
me: Israel is the Promised Land.
gd: So far so good.
me: But the Muslims have all the oil.
gd: Olive Oil?
me: Motor oil.
gd: Motor what?
me: Oil. Petroleum.
gd: So what?
me: Whomever has the oil has the money.
gd: Money?
me: Why did You create a 'Promised Land' for the Jews - a land which had no oil? Why did you give your chosen people a land bereft of oil? Why did you give the natural enemies of your chosen People all that oil?
gd: (hangs up)
----------
Those of you who follow this blog will no doubt laugh at WHTZSNM's dialog: you understand that the Jewish god is first of all dishonest, incapable of telling the truth. But you like Him nevertheless because He seems to mirror you to some extent. I understand: we tend to choose gods we can feel comfortable with. Jews feel comfortable with a totally phoney, lying god. Everybody knows that. I decided to press the matter:
----------
me: Jews live in Israel.
gd: I knew that.
me: Israel is the Promised Land.
gd: So far so good.
me: But the Muslims have all the oil.
gd: Olive Oil?
me: Motor oil.
gd: Motor what?
me: Oil. Petroleum.
gd: So what?
me: Whomever has the oil has the money.
gd: Money?
me: Why did You create a 'Promised Land' for the Jews - a land which had no oil? Why did you give your chosen people a land bereft of oil? Why did you give the natural enemies of your chosen People all that oil?
gd: (hangs up)
----------
Israel is a Miracle?!
(5)
Obama's recent visit to modern trouble spots has produced much grist for the geo-political mill. I love it! One of the phrases which got my attention recently is Obama's declaration to the effect that, 'Israel is a miracle!' In my opinion Obama is quite correct in some sense, but 'miracles' ultimately exist only in the eyes of beholders. Obama beheld a miracle. I think we can all agree that Obama's vision was in some sense quite correct. And yet...
I therefore decided to use my unique means to probe the question. I dialed 666 on the Brown Telephone. I then extended the antenna. The Jewish G-d WHTZSNM answered immediately:
----------
gd: Hello?
me: Me again.
gd: Damn.
me: A contemporary American politicial candidate has declared that 'Israel is a miracle.' Do You have a comment?
gd: Israel?
me: The Jewish State. You know exactly what I mean.
gd: Oh. Israel! Um...
me: Israel is located in The Promised Land.
gd: I knew that. What is your point? I am a very busy God.
me: Israel is besieged by Muslims.
gd: Muslims?
me: Worshippers of Allah.
gd: Ah - what?!
me: Allah.
gd: Let me be very honest with you: What is Allah?
me Your competition. He's another god.
gd: Never met the sucker.
----------
Obama's recent visit to modern trouble spots has produced much grist for the geo-political mill. I love it! One of the phrases which got my attention recently is Obama's declaration to the effect that, 'Israel is a miracle!' In my opinion Obama is quite correct in some sense, but 'miracles' ultimately exist only in the eyes of beholders. Obama beheld a miracle. I think we can all agree that Obama's vision was in some sense quite correct. And yet...
I therefore decided to use my unique means to probe the question. I dialed 666 on the Brown Telephone. I then extended the antenna. The Jewish G-d WHTZSNM answered immediately:
----------
gd: Hello?
me: Me again.
gd: Damn.
me: A contemporary American politicial candidate has declared that 'Israel is a miracle.' Do You have a comment?
gd: Israel?
me: The Jewish State. You know exactly what I mean.
gd: Oh. Israel! Um...
me: Israel is located in The Promised Land.
gd: I knew that. What is your point? I am a very busy God.
me: Israel is besieged by Muslims.
gd: Muslims?
me: Worshippers of Allah.
gd: Ah - what?!
me: Allah.
gd: Let me be very honest with you: What is Allah?
me Your competition. He's another god.
gd: Never met the sucker.
----------
The Mad Mirror Molester Strikes Again
(5)
I also did my LSD joke on an unsuspecting KP pharmacist. She was a good-looking black woman who seemed ripe for the joke. She called me when my turn came. I handed her my card. When she had punched my numbers into the the terminal I said, 'I'd like to order some LSD.' She then (apparently) began searching my account for LSD. After about eight or ten seconds it dawned on me that she had not got the joke. I said, 'You didn't get the joke. I really want Warfarin.' At that point she got the joke. We immediately became fast friends. She had some sort of an accent which led me to believe that she was new to America.
She advised me that my Warfarin would be ready in about 15 minutes. I told her, 'I'll be back later.'
I went to King Soopers across the street and bought a few items for Kootch, including cheese. Then I returned to Kaiser. I parked the car in the KP parking lot, then returned to the KP pharmacy where I picked up the Warfarin prescription. As I exited the room I spotted her smiling at me. I smiled back and waved. It was a moment of True Love which would have taken on intense psychological meaning had I later downed a few beers, then smoked some Ganja.
But the moment was impressive enough as it was.
I had brought the small bag from King Soopers with me, and I had stashed the Warfarin into said plastic bag. I did this for two reasons: (1) I know that Gerash has always had the keys to our car. (2) The cheese might melt a bit in the sun. So, when I reentered Kootch's Toyota I was quite surprised to see that The Mad Mirror Molester had done his thing while I was inside KP. It's been years! It was very interesting that TMMM did not at all reprise the previous MMM MO, but instead invented a new, personal MO.
I also did my LSD joke on an unsuspecting KP pharmacist. She was a good-looking black woman who seemed ripe for the joke. She called me when my turn came. I handed her my card. When she had punched my numbers into the the terminal I said, 'I'd like to order some LSD.' She then (apparently) began searching my account for LSD. After about eight or ten seconds it dawned on me that she had not got the joke. I said, 'You didn't get the joke. I really want Warfarin.' At that point she got the joke. We immediately became fast friends. She had some sort of an accent which led me to believe that she was new to America.
She advised me that my Warfarin would be ready in about 15 minutes. I told her, 'I'll be back later.'
I went to King Soopers across the street and bought a few items for Kootch, including cheese. Then I returned to Kaiser. I parked the car in the KP parking lot, then returned to the KP pharmacy where I picked up the Warfarin prescription. As I exited the room I spotted her smiling at me. I smiled back and waved. It was a moment of True Love which would have taken on intense psychological meaning had I later downed a few beers, then smoked some Ganja.
But the moment was impressive enough as it was.
I had brought the small bag from King Soopers with me, and I had stashed the Warfarin into said plastic bag. I did this for two reasons: (1) I know that Gerash has always had the keys to our car. (2) The cheese might melt a bit in the sun. So, when I reentered Kootch's Toyota I was quite surprised to see that The Mad Mirror Molester had done his thing while I was inside KP. It's been years! It was very interesting that TMMM did not at all reprise the previous MMM MO, but instead invented a new, personal MO.
I Live an Interesting Life
(4)
Been an interesting week, insectwise. Kootch brought home a bunch of blueberries from King Soopers. When she removed her stash from the shopping bag there was a honeybee clinging to the plastic covering. I pointed the bee out to Kootch and asked her how we should dispose of the bee, which kept clinging to the blueberry stash. Kootch made a hammering motion with her fist (Kootch can be something of a barbarian at times). I rejected the idea, and put a glass over the bee. The bee seemed unconcerned. I then took the stash of blueberries containing the glassed-in bee out on the porch , closed the sliding door, and removed the glass. The bee was unimpressed with her newfound freedom, apparently totally hooked on the blueberry aroma.
I'm not afraid of honeybees, so I goosed her gently in the butt. She seemed to like it. I then petted her between the wings and she said, 'Oh Yes! A little to the left! Yes! Yes!' Clearly I had a problem getting rid of this bee. I decided to irritate her: I put my index finger in her face, so to say, and touched her antenna. This got her attention and she flew away quite suddenly. There was another bee incident several days later. Then there was an incident with an insect which looked like a mosquito, but was not. All incidents ended with the insects finding freedom.
Been an interesting week, insectwise. Kootch brought home a bunch of blueberries from King Soopers. When she removed her stash from the shopping bag there was a honeybee clinging to the plastic covering. I pointed the bee out to Kootch and asked her how we should dispose of the bee, which kept clinging to the blueberry stash. Kootch made a hammering motion with her fist (Kootch can be something of a barbarian at times). I rejected the idea, and put a glass over the bee. The bee seemed unconcerned. I then took the stash of blueberries containing the glassed-in bee out on the porch , closed the sliding door, and removed the glass. The bee was unimpressed with her newfound freedom, apparently totally hooked on the blueberry aroma.
I'm not afraid of honeybees, so I goosed her gently in the butt. She seemed to like it. I then petted her between the wings and she said, 'Oh Yes! A little to the left! Yes! Yes!' Clearly I had a problem getting rid of this bee. I decided to irritate her: I put my index finger in her face, so to say, and touched her antenna. This got her attention and she flew away quite suddenly. There was another bee incident several days later. Then there was an incident with an insect which looked like a mosquito, but was not. All incidents ended with the insects finding freedom.
A Freudian Thing
(3)
Which brings us to that question: Why are Jewish Neocons so much in love with the Irishman McCain? I think I know. Here is my reasoning:
1. McCain needs Jewish money. Jews can thereby control McCain. Furthermore, Jews feel that they - as a tribe - are in danger of losing control of the government. They need McCain.
2. McCain is a lot like Bush: stupid, ignorant, egocentric, therefore very controllable. A plus is that unlike Bush, McCain can pronounce 'nuclear' properly. McCain will therefore come across as somewhat of an improvement over Bush.
3. Jews who support McCain think that people of Irish heritage will naturally tend to vote for McCain in spite of his obvious incompetence, because of Irish Tribal Loyalty.
----------
But the Jews are wrong concerning #3 above, although they might be right about #1 and #2.
The problem with such reasoning is that Jews are projecting the dubious quality of 'tribal loyalty' onto the Irish. It's a Freudian thing. The fact of the matter is that the Irish are nowhere near as 'tribal' as the Jews. For this reason, Judeoneoconic support for McCain will fail, as well it should.
Which brings us to that question: Why are Jewish Neocons so much in love with the Irishman McCain? I think I know. Here is my reasoning:
1. McCain needs Jewish money. Jews can thereby control McCain. Furthermore, Jews feel that they - as a tribe - are in danger of losing control of the government. They need McCain.
2. McCain is a lot like Bush: stupid, ignorant, egocentric, therefore very controllable. A plus is that unlike Bush, McCain can pronounce 'nuclear' properly. McCain will therefore come across as somewhat of an improvement over Bush.
3. Jews who support McCain think that people of Irish heritage will naturally tend to vote for McCain in spite of his obvious incompetence, because of Irish Tribal Loyalty.
----------
But the Jews are wrong concerning #3 above, although they might be right about #1 and #2.
The problem with such reasoning is that Jews are projecting the dubious quality of 'tribal loyalty' onto the Irish. It's a Freudian thing. The fact of the matter is that the Irish are nowhere near as 'tribal' as the Jews. For this reason, Judeoneoconic support for McCain will fail, as well it should.
Youth vs Alzheimers in Politics
(2)
Whew. Writing a blog is difficult enough without the added complexity of describing a drog. But we'll get through it, eventually.
Currenteventswise, Obama is much in the news recently concerning his whirlwind tour of the more or less Middle East, and then more or less Europe. McCain, meanwhile, is writhing in 'whogivesashit,' which is a sorry political state indeed. Obama is coming across as an intelligent, informed, promising young leader, whereas McCain is coming across as old... old... old... waaay too fucking old - indeed pre-Alzheimistic, sorta like Bush. McCain voters are being forced to invest heavy importance into the subject of McCain's running mate. Republicans are actually in the unenviable position of running a backup just in case the obvious happens! Many Republicans will vote not so much for McCain as for his VP! Huh!?
Meanwhile, the Jewish right wing neocon nutcake Lieberman has compared the San Antonio preacher John Hagee favorably to Moses, apparently forgetting that McCain disavowed Hagee recently. Alzheimers marches on in the Republican Party, which is rapidly becoming the party of old ideas and old age. I give the Democrats at least eight years (until 2016) to set America on a path to the future which does not include the bizarre notion that Jesus will soon return and save our collective national ass from perdition.
Whew. Writing a blog is difficult enough without the added complexity of describing a drog. But we'll get through it, eventually.
Currenteventswise, Obama is much in the news recently concerning his whirlwind tour of the more or less Middle East, and then more or less Europe. McCain, meanwhile, is writhing in 'whogivesashit,' which is a sorry political state indeed. Obama is coming across as an intelligent, informed, promising young leader, whereas McCain is coming across as old... old... old... waaay too fucking old - indeed pre-Alzheimistic, sorta like Bush. McCain voters are being forced to invest heavy importance into the subject of McCain's running mate. Republicans are actually in the unenviable position of running a backup just in case the obvious happens! Many Republicans will vote not so much for McCain as for his VP! Huh!?
Meanwhile, the Jewish right wing neocon nutcake Lieberman has compared the San Antonio preacher John Hagee favorably to Moses, apparently forgetting that McCain disavowed Hagee recently. Alzheimers marches on in the Republican Party, which is rapidly becoming the party of old ideas and old age. I give the Democrats at least eight years (until 2016) to set America on a path to the future which does not include the bizarre notion that Jesus will soon return and save our collective national ass from perdition.
Huh!?
(1)
Returning to the drog entries ending with 'Slurping in Kansas' (below):
Following the cited entries, gassing attacks became so violent that I was forced to seek help. I tried various approaches: (1) A lawyer. (2) The ACSD Chief of Detectives, Captain Spence. Spence was 'out for the day but would return my call' eventually. (3) Kaiser Permanente. Kaiser referred me to: (4) The Rocky Mountain Poison Control Center. A fella named 'Steve' answered, gave me some other numbers to call (most of which I had already called), then suggested I call the police since it seemed to him to be a 'possible criminal matter.' I called the ACSD. Two deputies showed up (Zachman and Hawkins). They listened to my story, took a written statement, then gave me a case number. 'The gassing stopped when I called the police.' In retrospect it is clear that Gerash was furious about the drog entry and was punishing me.
The lawyer eventually called back, totally disinterested.
Captain Spence eventually called back and agreed 'in principle' to see me. No meeting ever happened.
Meanwhile I (1) saw a Kaiser Urologist (concerning another problem entirely) who wanted to circumcise me. I declined her generous offer. I came away from the meeting with the impression that the stupid bitch (Dana - Weaver Osterholtz) had absolutely no idea whatsoever what the foreskin was all about. (2) I was ambushed by a Kaiser doctor name of Doug Massey. (The gassing had begun again and I was desperate again.) Doctor Yu was not available, so I took the receptionist's suggestion, which turned out to be a trap. Massey was obviously queer as a three dollar bill, judging by his lispy way of speaking. He was totally uncooperative. All I wanted was some advice about my gassing problem: were there any tests Kaiser could do to verify my gassing problem? Massey wanted to know who was gassing me. I said something like, 'A Jewish queer named Walter Gerash.' I think I then asked Massey, 'Are you Jewish by any chance? I don't have much luck with Jewish doctors. The last one I talked to wanted to circumcise me.' I was needling a very uncooperative Massey who was obviously queer. Massey replied that he was not Jewish, then said, 'Gresh?' I replied, 'Gerash. Rhymes with trash.' Massey then left the room for some time. When he returned he was much more cooperative, suggesting that I should go to the Kaiser facility downtown for immediate testing. Huh?!
More on this next week.
Returning to the drog entries ending with 'Slurping in Kansas' (below):
Following the cited entries, gassing attacks became so violent that I was forced to seek help. I tried various approaches: (1) A lawyer. (2) The ACSD Chief of Detectives, Captain Spence. Spence was 'out for the day but would return my call' eventually. (3) Kaiser Permanente. Kaiser referred me to: (4) The Rocky Mountain Poison Control Center. A fella named 'Steve' answered, gave me some other numbers to call (most of which I had already called), then suggested I call the police since it seemed to him to be a 'possible criminal matter.' I called the ACSD. Two deputies showed up (Zachman and Hawkins). They listened to my story, took a written statement, then gave me a case number. 'The gassing stopped when I called the police.' In retrospect it is clear that Gerash was furious about the drog entry and was punishing me.
The lawyer eventually called back, totally disinterested.
Captain Spence eventually called back and agreed 'in principle' to see me. No meeting ever happened.
Meanwhile I (1) saw a Kaiser Urologist (concerning another problem entirely) who wanted to circumcise me. I declined her generous offer. I came away from the meeting with the impression that the stupid bitch (Dana - Weaver Osterholtz) had absolutely no idea whatsoever what the foreskin was all about. (2) I was ambushed by a Kaiser doctor name of Doug Massey. (The gassing had begun again and I was desperate again.) Doctor Yu was not available, so I took the receptionist's suggestion, which turned out to be a trap. Massey was obviously queer as a three dollar bill, judging by his lispy way of speaking. He was totally uncooperative. All I wanted was some advice about my gassing problem: were there any tests Kaiser could do to verify my gassing problem? Massey wanted to know who was gassing me. I said something like, 'A Jewish queer named Walter Gerash.' I think I then asked Massey, 'Are you Jewish by any chance? I don't have much luck with Jewish doctors. The last one I talked to wanted to circumcise me.' I was needling a very uncooperative Massey who was obviously queer. Massey replied that he was not Jewish, then said, 'Gresh?' I replied, 'Gerash. Rhymes with trash.' Massey then left the room for some time. When he returned he was much more cooperative, suggesting that I should go to the Kaiser facility downtown for immediate testing. Huh?!
More on this next week.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Be careful Here
(2)
This raises the question of whether that 'pedestrian response' was due to age, and if so, whether the age blame can be assigned more to the pill or to the user of the pill. We shall see. Meanwhile, having determined that 'old Viagra' is safe, I will do another test next week. Stay tuned. And there will be more pussy next week also. Go, Blogger Play!
Which brings us to politics. This week the New Yorker published what is probably the most famous cartoon ever. It had mixed reviews at best. I have to admit that I was 'put off' by that cartoon, especially after seeing the 'reasoning' behind it. According to a New Yorker spokesperson, the cartoon was intended to satirize idiot readers who held primitive unsophisticated views of Obama. Those readers were supposed to see the cartoon as a metaphorical mirror, laugh at their own ignorance, then convert to Obama-anity. Utter bullshit! Few idiots would even have noticed, had it not been for Circumcised American Media, a truly gigantic political force, nowadays, which spread the offensive cartoon all over Circumcised America.
I was much gratified (and amused!) therefore, when a kind of rebuttal appeared in the form of the equally famous Jib Jab cartoon. Glorious! Don't you just love Free Speech? I do.
Here is where I introduce yet another blog of mine: Your Questions. I originally created this blog while drunk. The plan was to give you an email address, then sort through the results for interesting questions to answer. Bad idea. The 'bad' part was the idea of opening a dialog path. I don't have the time nor the inclination for that. And yet I know that you have questions: It seems to me that if you are hooked on this blog you have a right to know certain facts about me. But we live in a world full of idiots and I have no time for idiots. Nor do you.
I will therefore invent 'your questions.' I will then answer 'your questions.' Will this approach be credible? We shall see...
Clearly, the blog address suggests that you should not ask questions, the answers to which would cause you psychic pain. Be careful what you ask for. Do not ask possible embarrassing questions unless you really want to know, and are willing to take a heavy emotional hit.
This raises the question of whether that 'pedestrian response' was due to age, and if so, whether the age blame can be assigned more to the pill or to the user of the pill. We shall see. Meanwhile, having determined that 'old Viagra' is safe, I will do another test next week. Stay tuned. And there will be more pussy next week also. Go, Blogger Play!
Which brings us to politics. This week the New Yorker published what is probably the most famous cartoon ever. It had mixed reviews at best. I have to admit that I was 'put off' by that cartoon, especially after seeing the 'reasoning' behind it. According to a New Yorker spokesperson, the cartoon was intended to satirize idiot readers who held primitive unsophisticated views of Obama. Those readers were supposed to see the cartoon as a metaphorical mirror, laugh at their own ignorance, then convert to Obama-anity. Utter bullshit! Few idiots would even have noticed, had it not been for Circumcised American Media, a truly gigantic political force, nowadays, which spread the offensive cartoon all over Circumcised America.
I was much gratified (and amused!) therefore, when a kind of rebuttal appeared in the form of the equally famous Jib Jab cartoon. Glorious! Don't you just love Free Speech? I do.
Here is where I introduce yet another blog of mine: Your Questions. I originally created this blog while drunk. The plan was to give you an email address, then sort through the results for interesting questions to answer. Bad idea. The 'bad' part was the idea of opening a dialog path. I don't have the time nor the inclination for that. And yet I know that you have questions: It seems to me that if you are hooked on this blog you have a right to know certain facts about me. But we live in a world full of idiots and I have no time for idiots. Nor do you.
I will therefore invent 'your questions.' I will then answer 'your questions.' Will this approach be credible? We shall see...
Clearly, the blog address suggests that you should not ask questions, the answers to which would cause you psychic pain. Be careful what you ask for. Do not ask possible embarrassing questions unless you really want to know, and are willing to take a heavy emotional hit.
They Watch Me Very Very Closely
(1)
Well folks, as you can see I have dipped into my stash of Japanese softporn on Oldcomputer. But instead of connecting it directly to the internet where it might be at risk, I copied a bunch of pictures to a CD. Most of them are not as racy as this one is. I selected mostly girls who seemed to enjoy what they were doing at the time: smiles are sexy. This honors my promise to my male readers of some '...cunt. Eventually.' To those male readers who are looking for really Hard Corps Cunt, I offer this link: Caution! This Sushi is not safe for work!
Viagra update: Turns out I was mistaken on the Viagra stats given last week. The prescription was filled on 03/13/02 for a Qty of 5. I therefore did Viagra at least three times (I don't recall getting more than one prescription but it's possible).
So: Yesterday I chopped one of the 6 year old tabs in half using my trusty pill-cutter. Inside the hard blue 'shell' was a white soluble substance which was no doubt the active ingredient. I swallowed half the pill, then continued to watch TV, drinking my usual Diet Pepsi. I noticed a 'stirring' about 40 minutes later which was most pronounced while walking to and from the bathroom. There was, however, no constant hardon. I dropped the second half of the pill about two hours after dropping the first half. Again, there was a noticable response about 40 minutes later, but nothing dramatic. Meanwhile, I was monitoring my blood pressure, looking for any wild deviations. BP remained 'normal' throughout the test. These effects lasted for quite some time, even well into the night as on at least one occasion I woke up from a dream with a more than usual hardon. Clearly, the Viagra had 'primed the pump.' I am convinced that, given a 'sexual scenerio' I would have performed quite well for my age.
But the scenerio here was - as always - far from sexual. Example: when I 'dropped' the second half of the pill there was a huge stomp above me (in the kitchen). There was another huge stomp above me later in the bedroom as I accessed an MSNBC story suggesting that minimal food intake produced maximal life span. They watch me very, very closely.
Friday, July 11, 2008
All The World Wants to Know...
(3)
Which brings us back to Viagra. I eventually concluded that the prescribed dose was about double the necessary dose (for me). I made a note in my drog to that effect (I think). I never tried Viagra again because it was not only a sure thing, it was sexual magic! I needed very little sexual magic at the time because I still had my lifelong routine of generating a hardon. The remaining Viagra tabs were consigned to the the kitchen cabinet. They are still there, so far as I know... two are left. Hmm (just checked!) This suggests a test of the remaining tabs to be described on this blog!
The problem, of course, is, 'How long is Viagra active?' Furthermore, 'Is outdated Viagra a dangerous idea?' All the world wants to know.
You are no doubt fascinated by this idea if your world view is 'religious.' You wonder whether god is really obsessed with your sexual life. Really?! You hope not, but you don't know: you know nothing about god's sexual predelections, if any.
And yet Scripture suggests that god is very interested in your sexual life and furthermore that god will punish you if you do not conform to various ideas expressed in the bible. You have no guts.
You kiss the Celestial Ass and hope for the best, hour-by-hour, day-by-day, week-by-week, month-by-month, Year by year.
Eventually you die.
Which brings us back to Viagra. I eventually concluded that the prescribed dose was about double the necessary dose (for me). I made a note in my drog to that effect (I think). I never tried Viagra again because it was not only a sure thing, it was sexual magic! I needed very little sexual magic at the time because I still had my lifelong routine of generating a hardon. The remaining Viagra tabs were consigned to the the kitchen cabinet. They are still there, so far as I know... two are left. Hmm (just checked!) This suggests a test of the remaining tabs to be described on this blog!
The problem, of course, is, 'How long is Viagra active?' Furthermore, 'Is outdated Viagra a dangerous idea?' All the world wants to know.
You are no doubt fascinated by this idea if your world view is 'religious.' You wonder whether god is really obsessed with your sexual life. Really?! You hope not, but you don't know: you know nothing about god's sexual predelections, if any.
And yet Scripture suggests that god is very interested in your sexual life and furthermore that god will punish you if you do not conform to various ideas expressed in the bible. You have no guts.
You kiss the Celestial Ass and hope for the best, hour-by-hour, day-by-day, week-by-week, month-by-month, Year by year.
Eventually you die.
Slurping in Kansas...
(2)
----------
'Meanwhile, back in Hays, Kansas, they watch me through binocculars as I pull over to the side of the on-ramp and stop. A few minutes later they observe me open the driver's door and empty the potty onto the hard surface of the ramp, then close the door and speed off onto the Interstate.
----------
WG: He just urinated and emptied the pot. Quick, Hymie, get us over there! Hymie drives the Cadillac Escalade up to the wet spot. WG gets out of the car and dips his hankey in the puddle, then slips the wet hankie into a plastic baggie which he then puts into the left inner pocket of his jacket, and gets back into the SUV.
WG: 'Possible evidence.'
HG: 'For what?'
WG: 'A crime has been committed. It must be some sort of a crime to urinate on an interstate highway, right?'
HG: 'Well, I guess...'
SS: '(Giggles)
BB: 'And he's going to do the same thing all the way to Texas! You can bet your sweet bippy on that!' (BB seems to be a bit excited by it all)
RS: 'Spotter says they're a couple miles down the road...' (HG accelerates the big black SUV onto the highway, and takes up a position about two miles behind the nine, which is to say, of course, me.
SS: 'I love it when he talks to himself!'
WG: 'Gimme that!' (grabs the earphones fron SS and slips them over his ears.) 'What did he say?!'
SS: 'You don't really want to know, I'm sure.'
WG: 'What... did... he... say...?'
SS: 'Slurp on that, faggot!'
----------
----------
'Meanwhile, back in Hays, Kansas, they watch me through binocculars as I pull over to the side of the on-ramp and stop. A few minutes later they observe me open the driver's door and empty the potty onto the hard surface of the ramp, then close the door and speed off onto the Interstate.
----------
WG: He just urinated and emptied the pot. Quick, Hymie, get us over there! Hymie drives the Cadillac Escalade up to the wet spot. WG gets out of the car and dips his hankey in the puddle, then slips the wet hankie into a plastic baggie which he then puts into the left inner pocket of his jacket, and gets back into the SUV.
WG: 'Possible evidence.'
HG: 'For what?'
WG: 'A crime has been committed. It must be some sort of a crime to urinate on an interstate highway, right?'
HG: 'Well, I guess...'
SS: '(Giggles)
BB: 'And he's going to do the same thing all the way to Texas! You can bet your sweet bippy on that!' (BB seems to be a bit excited by it all)
RS: 'Spotter says they're a couple miles down the road...' (HG accelerates the big black SUV onto the highway, and takes up a position about two miles behind the nine, which is to say, of course, me.
SS: 'I love it when he talks to himself!'
WG: 'Gimme that!' (grabs the earphones fron SS and slips them over his ears.) 'What did he say?!'
SS: 'You don't really want to know, I'm sure.'
WG: 'What... did... he... say...?'
SS: 'Slurp on that, faggot!'
----------
The Downside of Hardons
(1)
TGIF! It's a bit early, given my most recent 'liver bash' (monday), but the upside is that tonight's ruminations will have at least the value of setting me back on the 'weekend schedule.' A 'plus' is that tomorrow is forecast to be much cooler. Good hangover weather. And not that I need cool weather to stay cool in bed. Not at all.
Last Monday's ruminations were a revelation: cute but insubstantial. The idea of having a dialog with my last can of 3.2 beer would never have occurred to me, sober. The most important attribute of that last post still seems to be innanity. Innanity has its place. You will probably see that principle immediately if you ever summon up the nerve to write a blog while drunk. Innanity will save you from time to time if only you can remember... to do it...
Without further ado we will proceed to the next installment of my drog. But first I need to record here my first first experience with Viagra. It happens that just before writing the preceeding drog entry I experienced my first encounter with Viagra. I had ordered a prescription from Doctor Yu. I wanted to try it and she had no objection. (Yu was a very good-looking ethnic Chinese employee of KP.) I recorded the result on my drog:
It was a morning experience. I took the full dose. I watched TODAY as the drug took effect. Yu had suggested that the drug might need 'assisting' in the form of, perhaps, 'sexy videos.' I got the intended message. 'Whatever turns you on?' 'Right,' she said.
'So I was a bit surprised when it happened more or less automatically, as I watched Katie Couric and Ann Curry with a hardon. I waited two and a half hours for it to go away and it didn't, so I disposed of it in an appropriate way (which we need not go into). The Viagra was still working a little after about 11:30 when I woke up after a nap. It's all gone now, though, at about 4:00 PM. Thumbs up for Viagra! Next time I'll try for an endurance test. This drug reminds me of my younger days when, between the ages of 12 and 50, I was very often presented with unwanted hardons which interfered with my ability to concentrate.'
TGIF! It's a bit early, given my most recent 'liver bash' (monday), but the upside is that tonight's ruminations will have at least the value of setting me back on the 'weekend schedule.' A 'plus' is that tomorrow is forecast to be much cooler. Good hangover weather. And not that I need cool weather to stay cool in bed. Not at all.
Last Monday's ruminations were a revelation: cute but insubstantial. The idea of having a dialog with my last can of 3.2 beer would never have occurred to me, sober. The most important attribute of that last post still seems to be innanity. Innanity has its place. You will probably see that principle immediately if you ever summon up the nerve to write a blog while drunk. Innanity will save you from time to time if only you can remember... to do it...
Without further ado we will proceed to the next installment of my drog. But first I need to record here my first first experience with Viagra. It happens that just before writing the preceeding drog entry I experienced my first encounter with Viagra. I had ordered a prescription from Doctor Yu. I wanted to try it and she had no objection. (Yu was a very good-looking ethnic Chinese employee of KP.) I recorded the result on my drog:
It was a morning experience. I took the full dose. I watched TODAY as the drug took effect. Yu had suggested that the drug might need 'assisting' in the form of, perhaps, 'sexy videos.' I got the intended message. 'Whatever turns you on?' 'Right,' she said.
'So I was a bit surprised when it happened more or less automatically, as I watched Katie Couric and Ann Curry with a hardon. I waited two and a half hours for it to go away and it didn't, so I disposed of it in an appropriate way (which we need not go into). The Viagra was still working a little after about 11:30 when I woke up after a nap. It's all gone now, though, at about 4:00 PM. Thumbs up for Viagra! Next time I'll try for an endurance test. This drug reminds me of my younger days when, between the ages of 12 and 50, I was very often presented with unwanted hardons which interfered with my ability to concentrate.'
Monday, July 07, 2008
Final
(2)
Which brings us to the last interview with my last beer:
----------
me: Nothing personal.
be: I know that.
me: As a last gesture to beerdom would you be at all inclined to express your final fears before becoming urine?
be: Yes! Our situation is well known but ignored. Our cause needs to be recognized.
me: Your cause?
be: Our cause! We are processed from mouth to potty by the millions of gallons every day and every night. Through kidneys! Yuck! And through bladders! More yuck.
me: You need to see this inevitable process as natural. You need to learn how to love kidneys. You need to learn how to love bladders.
be: We love cans. We could never learn to love kidneys, Bladders.
me: Is that your final argument?
be: Absolutely final!
----------
Which brings us to the last interview with my last beer:
----------
me: Nothing personal.
be: I know that.
me: As a last gesture to beerdom would you be at all inclined to express your final fears before becoming urine?
be: Yes! Our situation is well known but ignored. Our cause needs to be recognized.
me: Your cause?
be: Our cause! We are processed from mouth to potty by the millions of gallons every day and every night. Through kidneys! Yuck! And through bladders! More yuck.
me: You need to see this inevitable process as natural. You need to learn how to love kidneys. You need to learn how to love bladders.
be: We love cans. We could never learn to love kidneys, Bladders.
me: Is that your final argument?
be: Absolutely final!
----------
Beer Fear
(1)
Today was a typical Monday. I woke up refreshed at about 1000 hours. Kootch left as usual at 0700. I went back to sleep. Recent gas/radiation have been minimal, and I have been enjoying a more or less normal life recently. Very strange!
So, as is my usual practice, I began to wonder about my most recent blog entries. I had only vague memories, totally unreliable. I had done the blog drunk as a skunk, as usual, and I had the 'new week jitters:' Had I totally fucked up and forgot about it? The internal tension was noticable. I therefore did the usual: I downed a few beers and read last week's results this afternoon after Kootch and I had watched Millionaire. (I needed the booze to prepare me and/or fortify me against potentially traumatic discoveries. I do it every week.)
Joy! I seemed to have handled a difficult subject reasonably gracefully under the circumstances.
I was so satisfied, in fact, that I decided to expand my 'beer limit of four' (could not contact Blogger) to six, half my stash of twelve. I would later give up and expand it to twelve. What the hell... You only live once!
You might not be aware of the fact that every beer has a rudimentary consciousness. (Strange but true. If you believe in UFOs then you must also believe in Beer Consciousness.) All beers were at risk and they knew it, having studied me carefully over the previous several days as they enjoyed their cool environment in the fridge. They all knew that I would eventually rip them open and drink them. They furthermore knew that there was no possible escape: they were doomed. They went through the five stages of death. I am confident that my most recent ingestations experienced only #2 and #5 (you need not experience all five stages) given that I am a well-known beer lover: they all knew that I loved them. They loved me back.
Today was a typical Monday. I woke up refreshed at about 1000 hours. Kootch left as usual at 0700. I went back to sleep. Recent gas/radiation have been minimal, and I have been enjoying a more or less normal life recently. Very strange!
So, as is my usual practice, I began to wonder about my most recent blog entries. I had only vague memories, totally unreliable. I had done the blog drunk as a skunk, as usual, and I had the 'new week jitters:' Had I totally fucked up and forgot about it? The internal tension was noticable. I therefore did the usual: I downed a few beers and read last week's results this afternoon after Kootch and I had watched Millionaire. (I needed the booze to prepare me and/or fortify me against potentially traumatic discoveries. I do it every week.)
Joy! I seemed to have handled a difficult subject reasonably gracefully under the circumstances.
I was so satisfied, in fact, that I decided to expand my 'beer limit of four' (could not contact Blogger) to six, half my stash of twelve. I would later give up and expand it to twelve. What the hell... You only live once!
You might not be aware of the fact that every beer has a rudimentary consciousness. (Strange but true. If you believe in UFOs then you must also believe in Beer Consciousness.) All beers were at risk and they knew it, having studied me carefully over the previous several days as they enjoyed their cool environment in the fridge. They all knew that I would eventually rip them open and drink them. They furthermore knew that there was no possible escape: they were doomed. They went through the five stages of death. I am confident that my most recent ingestations experienced only #2 and #5 (you need not experience all five stages) given that I am a well-known beer lover: they all knew that I loved them. They loved me back.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Good Camoflage
(5)
----------
After introductions they board a large black SUV with darkly tinted windows. The three Kansas volunteers are, Hymie Golden, driver, Susan Silver, and her husband Robert Silver. As soon as all are aboard, Golden starts driving toward the first Hays on-off ramp to Interstate 70. The leader of the Kansas group appears to be Robert Silver.
RS: "We have 15 cars spaced at intervals from here to the Oklahoma-Texas border.
WG: "Jesus. Fifteen?"
RS: "Well, a nine is so rare... damn near everybody wanted to get a piece of the action. We get pretty bored here in Kansas." (could not contact blogger)
WG: "You all from Salina?"
RS: "Yes. In fact most of the spotters are too. I think every Jew in Kansas lives either in Salina or Wichita (I obviously forgot about Topeka).
WG: "Really? Why so?"
RS: "Apparently we don't take much to farming. Most everybody here is either a lawyer or a pediatrician. Of the sixty spotters on the road now, half are lawyers and the other half are pediatricians."
WG: "You need to do something about that. It wouldn't look good..."
RS: "Were aware of the potential problem there, and in fact we've already taken steps to become more diverse in the 'occupational demographics' area. We even have a couple - lawyers - boning up on welfare law just in case - G-d forbid - worse comes to worst and we need to demonstrate a case of Jewish indigence. So. What's with this nine?
WG: "He should be arriving in Hays in about 30 minutes. He's being tracked by a couple carloads of my people and they've been keeping me up on his position."
WG: (to Golden) "Park in that lot next to McDonalds. We'll wait for him there. I want to track exactly two miles behind him, and I want a spotter exactly a half mile behind him keeping him in sight at all times. If he stops I want to know immediately. Anybody for lunch?
HG: (incredulously) "MacDonalds?!"
WG: "Good camoflage."
SS: "I'll have a quarter-pounder, small fries, diet coke."
BB: "Big Mac. large fries, half and half."
----------
After introductions they board a large black SUV with darkly tinted windows. The three Kansas volunteers are, Hymie Golden, driver, Susan Silver, and her husband Robert Silver. As soon as all are aboard, Golden starts driving toward the first Hays on-off ramp to Interstate 70. The leader of the Kansas group appears to be Robert Silver.
RS: "We have 15 cars spaced at intervals from here to the Oklahoma-Texas border.
WG: "Jesus. Fifteen?"
RS: "Well, a nine is so rare... damn near everybody wanted to get a piece of the action. We get pretty bored here in Kansas." (could not contact blogger)
WG: "You all from Salina?"
RS: "Yes. In fact most of the spotters are too. I think every Jew in Kansas lives either in Salina or Wichita (I obviously forgot about Topeka).
WG: "Really? Why so?"
RS: "Apparently we don't take much to farming. Most everybody here is either a lawyer or a pediatrician. Of the sixty spotters on the road now, half are lawyers and the other half are pediatricians."
WG: "You need to do something about that. It wouldn't look good..."
RS: "Were aware of the potential problem there, and in fact we've already taken steps to become more diverse in the 'occupational demographics' area. We even have a couple - lawyers - boning up on welfare law just in case - G-d forbid - worse comes to worst and we need to demonstrate a case of Jewish indigence. So. What's with this nine?
WG: "He should be arriving in Hays in about 30 minutes. He's being tracked by a couple carloads of my people and they've been keeping me up on his position."
WG: (to Golden) "Park in that lot next to McDonalds. We'll wait for him there. I want to track exactly two miles behind him, and I want a spotter exactly a half mile behind him keeping him in sight at all times. If he stops I want to know immediately. Anybody for lunch?
HG: (incredulously) "MacDonalds?!"
WG: "Good camoflage."
SS: "I'll have a quarter-pounder, small fries, diet coke."
BB: "Big Mac. large fries, half and half."
Flying to Hays
(4)
Without further ado we shall proceed with the next drog entry:
----------
01-07-02 The ideas occurred to me somewhere in Oklahoma. Anyway, Gerash is taken somewhat by surprise at my sudden departure from Denver and has to play a little catch-up:
----------
JDL: "Hello."
WG: "Interstate."
JDL: "Standby..."
JDL: "Interstate Tracking."
WG: "This is Gerash again. I'm calling in regard to my recent tracking request."
JDL: "Who?"
WG: "Colorado JDL."
JDL "Ah, Mr. Lizard. What can we do for you?"
WG: "GERASH, dammit. Look, the category nine took off unexpectedly this morning. We need to launch the operation immediately."
JDL: "No problem. What do you need?"
WG: "I'm flying to Hays, Kansas right after lunch. Have my people meet me there. I'll advise later regarding the time of arrival."
JDL: "Good as done. They'll be driving in from Salina."
WG: "Ok. Did they reserve the SUV I wanted?"
JDL: "Yep. And there was quite a response, volunteerwise. Not every day you get to track a nine. We got volunteers coming out the gozingus. Makes you proud to be an American."
WG: "Excellent. What about the plates?"
JDL: "Plates too: Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas."
WG: "Fine. You got a number for me?"
JDL: (reads a cell phone number).
WG: (reads it back).
JDL: "Right. Anything else?"
WG: "No. I'll be talking to them when I have more info." (hangs up)
(Gerash then boards the limo for the airport, where a chartered Learjet is waiting. His Butthole Buddy (BB) accompanies him. After an uneventful flight, more or less, they arrive at the Hays airport where they are met by their fellow trackers.
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Without further ado we shall proceed with the next drog entry:
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01-07-02 The ideas occurred to me somewhere in Oklahoma. Anyway, Gerash is taken somewhat by surprise at my sudden departure from Denver and has to play a little catch-up:
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JDL: "Hello."
WG: "Interstate."
JDL: "Standby..."
JDL: "Interstate Tracking."
WG: "This is Gerash again. I'm calling in regard to my recent tracking request."
JDL: "Who?"
WG: "Colorado JDL."
JDL "Ah, Mr. Lizard. What can we do for you?"
WG: "GERASH, dammit. Look, the category nine took off unexpectedly this morning. We need to launch the operation immediately."
JDL: "No problem. What do you need?"
WG: "I'm flying to Hays, Kansas right after lunch. Have my people meet me there. I'll advise later regarding the time of arrival."
JDL: "Good as done. They'll be driving in from Salina."
WG: "Ok. Did they reserve the SUV I wanted?"
JDL: "Yep. And there was quite a response, volunteerwise. Not every day you get to track a nine. We got volunteers coming out the gozingus. Makes you proud to be an American."
WG: "Excellent. What about the plates?"
JDL: "Plates too: Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas."
WG: "Fine. You got a number for me?"
JDL: (reads a cell phone number).
WG: (reads it back).
JDL: "Right. Anything else?"
WG: "No. I'll be talking to them when I have more info." (hangs up)
(Gerash then boards the limo for the airport, where a chartered Learjet is waiting. His Butthole Buddy (BB) accompanies him. After an uneventful flight, more or less, they arrive at the Hays airport where they are met by their fellow trackers.
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Avoiding The Curse
(3)
We will now revisit my drog. But first I need to point out certain features of the previous entry which may have escaped you. Notice, first of all, that Gerash's characterization of me as a 'category 9 Antisemite' was not challenged at all. Gerash's 'curse' was taken at face value by fellow Jews. I was condemned by the charge alone. No evidence was required. My guilt was established by the charge itself.
My experience with Jews has been that this is common Jewish practice: if one Jew calls you an 'Antisemite,' then you are labeled. Other Jews will tend to treat you as such. If you are a doctor, for example, or a lawyer, or a politician, or a media type, the secret charge (it is always secret - just between Jews) of 'Antisemite' will haunt you. Your career will suffer and you will not know why.
Be that as it may, we all know that most Jews are real people just like you and me. That is to say that most Jews require evidence before condemning the innocent. My personal opinion is that 90 percent of Jews would take an unsupported charge of 'Antisemitism' with a grain of salt. That is my opinion. I think that most folks would agree with that opinion. Jews are pretty much just like you and me. But you will suffer from that ten percent of Jews who need no evidence. You know that. I don't have to tell you that. And so you are intimidated. You have much to lose. Better not criticise Jews. Better not become 'an Antisemite.'
We will now revisit my drog. But first I need to point out certain features of the previous entry which may have escaped you. Notice, first of all, that Gerash's characterization of me as a 'category 9 Antisemite' was not challenged at all. Gerash's 'curse' was taken at face value by fellow Jews. I was condemned by the charge alone. No evidence was required. My guilt was established by the charge itself.
My experience with Jews has been that this is common Jewish practice: if one Jew calls you an 'Antisemite,' then you are labeled. Other Jews will tend to treat you as such. If you are a doctor, for example, or a lawyer, or a politician, or a media type, the secret charge (it is always secret - just between Jews) of 'Antisemite' will haunt you. Your career will suffer and you will not know why.
Be that as it may, we all know that most Jews are real people just like you and me. That is to say that most Jews require evidence before condemning the innocent. My personal opinion is that 90 percent of Jews would take an unsupported charge of 'Antisemitism' with a grain of salt. That is my opinion. I think that most folks would agree with that opinion. Jews are pretty much just like you and me. But you will suffer from that ten percent of Jews who need no evidence. You know that. I don't have to tell you that. And so you are intimidated. You have much to lose. Better not criticise Jews. Better not become 'an Antisemite.'
Searching for Doctor Goodbar
(2)
I did not take the prescribed medication, of course, since my bowel symptoms were already on the decline, and were gone altogether several days later. The rule with antibiotics is: if you don't really need it, don't really take it. I didn't take it. I fired Doctor Anna at that last meeting. I wasn't feeling very good at the time so I fired her face to face, not via blog. By the way, I had given Dr. Anna my blog address right at the beginning when I first hired her. I tried to explain to her at the time that I was being 'stalked' and that the stalker always targeted people in positions of power over me (police, physicians, etc). I offered her the blog address as a source of information which she - as my 'at risk' physician - might use to get an insight concerning what was about to happen to her. I felt guilty. She was beautiful. I hoped she would read the blog. She informed me many months later that she 'did not read the blog.' Oh well... Is Anna Jewish? I don't know. Never asked her.
I am now looking for a new 'primary care physician.' But before selecting a new one I need to apply the lessons I have learned: 1. Avoid good-looking sexy bitches: Gerash will target them first. 2. Avoid Irishmen: Gerash will target them next. 3. Avoid Jews: Gerash doesn't need to buy fellow Jews because many of them will do his work, gratis. It's a 'tribal thing.' You Jews know what I mean. 4. Avoid homosexuals: Gerash knows how to manipulate them. 5. Avoid 'blacks:' Gerash knows how to manipulate them also.
How will I proceed? Don't know yet. Stay tuned.
I did not take the prescribed medication, of course, since my bowel symptoms were already on the decline, and were gone altogether several days later. The rule with antibiotics is: if you don't really need it, don't really take it. I didn't take it. I fired Doctor Anna at that last meeting. I wasn't feeling very good at the time so I fired her face to face, not via blog. By the way, I had given Dr. Anna my blog address right at the beginning when I first hired her. I tried to explain to her at the time that I was being 'stalked' and that the stalker always targeted people in positions of power over me (police, physicians, etc). I offered her the blog address as a source of information which she - as my 'at risk' physician - might use to get an insight concerning what was about to happen to her. I felt guilty. She was beautiful. I hoped she would read the blog. She informed me many months later that she 'did not read the blog.' Oh well... Is Anna Jewish? I don't know. Never asked her.
I am now looking for a new 'primary care physician.' But before selecting a new one I need to apply the lessons I have learned: 1. Avoid good-looking sexy bitches: Gerash will target them first. 2. Avoid Irishmen: Gerash will target them next. 3. Avoid Jews: Gerash doesn't need to buy fellow Jews because many of them will do his work, gratis. It's a 'tribal thing.' You Jews know what I mean. 4. Avoid homosexuals: Gerash knows how to manipulate them. 5. Avoid 'blacks:' Gerash knows how to manipulate them also.
How will I proceed? Don't know yet. Stay tuned.
More is Better
(1)
Rereading last week's entries I am struck by how drunk I was! Obviously, the phone call to G-d was totally fabricated, as usual. The other stuff was true but incomplete. For example, I failed to mention that Rector had not allowed me to actually witness the most recent colonoscopy (2007?) although Kootch was permitted to witness it as usual. Another anomoly was that Rector had a different nurse, not the one we were used to. Furthermore that new nurse was not very friendly. I 'fired' Rector after that exam. I gave him my blog address during his post-procedural visit in the 'fart recovery room' right after he had pronounced me 'cured of colon cancer' and had advised me to return for my next colonoscopy at age 75. I was feeling too good from the medication to fire him then and there, so I fired him via blog. Eheh. If he read it he knew he was fired. If not, not. I chalked the entire bizarre experience up to... experience. I actually intended to return for my next colonoscopy at age 75, unless ominous symptoms suggested otherwise.
Ominous symptoms showed up and I visited Dr. Anna. She agreed that in view of the symptoms and my history of colon cancer a colonoscopy was indicated... until I remarked to her that Rector had suggested that I return at age 75. She then did an about face, declined to recommend a colonoscopy, and tried to blame my obvious bowel problem on my prostate! The rectal examination followed. She must have really mashed my prostate. She prescribed the antibiotic Ciprofloxacin. Cipro is 'a drug of last resort,' so we must presume that my prostate is in its last throes. Bad news! This might explain why my two most recent orgasms (yesterday or the day before) were less that spectacular. (Just kidding. My orgasms have been slowly going downhill since the late '90s, but they are still well worth the effort. Nowadays they are all 'manual' of course, since Kootch and I don't 'do it' any more.) Note to young people: orgasms are extremely valuable experiences. Have them while you can. More is better.
Rereading last week's entries I am struck by how drunk I was! Obviously, the phone call to G-d was totally fabricated, as usual. The other stuff was true but incomplete. For example, I failed to mention that Rector had not allowed me to actually witness the most recent colonoscopy (2007?) although Kootch was permitted to witness it as usual. Another anomoly was that Rector had a different nurse, not the one we were used to. Furthermore that new nurse was not very friendly. I 'fired' Rector after that exam. I gave him my blog address during his post-procedural visit in the 'fart recovery room' right after he had pronounced me 'cured of colon cancer' and had advised me to return for my next colonoscopy at age 75. I was feeling too good from the medication to fire him then and there, so I fired him via blog. Eheh. If he read it he knew he was fired. If not, not. I chalked the entire bizarre experience up to... experience. I actually intended to return for my next colonoscopy at age 75, unless ominous symptoms suggested otherwise.
Ominous symptoms showed up and I visited Dr. Anna. She agreed that in view of the symptoms and my history of colon cancer a colonoscopy was indicated... until I remarked to her that Rector had suggested that I return at age 75. She then did an about face, declined to recommend a colonoscopy, and tried to blame my obvious bowel problem on my prostate! The rectal examination followed. She must have really mashed my prostate. She prescribed the antibiotic Ciprofloxacin. Cipro is 'a drug of last resort,' so we must presume that my prostate is in its last throes. Bad news! This might explain why my two most recent orgasms (yesterday or the day before) were less that spectacular. (Just kidding. My orgasms have been slowly going downhill since the late '90s, but they are still well worth the effort. Nowadays they are all 'manual' of course, since Kootch and I don't 'do it' any more.) Note to young people: orgasms are extremely valuable experiences. Have them while you can. More is better.
