Jus Sayin 1203

The guy in front of me orders, and then when finished looks at me, and flatly states to the girl, his name is "The Mouth From The South.” Now I did not actually know this person, and found this to be offensive. Instead of nailing him, I took it in stride, and proceeded to ignore him the rest of the evening. It seems to me that people are too quick with the name calling these days.
Gmail gives you a whole 30 seconds to make up your mind whether or not to send your vile, venomous, slandering, vitriol laced email or delete it.  So if you are going to call Uncle Paul a dirty, low down, egg sucking Dawg … and change your mind, because you forgot your birthday is next week, you had best be quick about it.

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Couples have an amount they can spend up to without discussing IT with each other.  Mine is around $50. My wife’s is around $643.27.

Apparently.

“Find out if your heart is strong enough and then ask your doctor about having sex.”   Okay, I will, but he has never brought it up before,

I just know it will just lead to another prescription.

When I was a little boy, if I got sick I went to a doctor, who sent me to a hospital to be treated by other doctors.  Now I go to a family practitioner who belongs to a “health maintenance organization,” which sends me to a “wellness center” to be treated by “health-care delivery professionals.”

All that, just to tell me

“Do not use the diving-board when the swimming pool is empty.”

Commenting on FakeBook is really easy, often just a cut and a paste away from immortality.  The tricky part is spelling all of it wrong.

Gmail gives you a whole 30 seconds to make up your mind whether or not to send your vile, venomous, slandering, vitriol laced email or delete it.  So if you are going to call Uncle Paul a dirty, low down, egg sucking Dawg … and change your mind, because you forgot your birthday is next week, you had best be quick about it.

If you turn in your neighbor for beating up his kids, will he still loan you his tools?

Lori

One of the things I regret in life is the fact that I did not do a lot of skinny dipping with all those young, supple, well endowed, bow-legged women in high-school, and now much older and graduated, wish I had done more of that.  That would be a genuine sincere form of regret.

BEST ONE OF THE WEEK HANDS DOWN.

News Channel Five (Live! …  Late Breaking!  … Really Lame) reports that in Oklahoma City, a burglar broke into a home on the north-side of town, and according to the home owner, all that was taken was a toothbrush.

Yes, hard to believe, but it is true.  Wonder why he apparently left the mouthwash?

Jus Sayin

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ObamaCare Certified AARP Health Care Professional Drama

medical emblem

My back is cold and I am lying here on the paper, looking up at the ceiling, and I know I have been in this room before.

How?  The tiles look very familiar, the Dr. walks in, “What is going on today Mr. Smith?”

I always like that, how they refer to me as “Mister Smith.”  A sign of respect, honor, dignity, something I am totally unaccustomed to, believe me.

Continue reading

Good News …

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Just got off the phone with the doctor, and he gave me some good news for a change.  He said my recent round of poking and prodding produced nothing of a significant nature and that I am okay.

Which after what I have been thru here lately is definitely a boost for me.

With six visits to the ER in the last two years and the operating room twice, it has taken a toll on the fuel fund, let me tell you.  Now I can sit back and take it in, one day at a time, without so much as a hint of anxiety.

So there is good news and there is bad.

First the good, the prognosis is great for a change, which is a most welcome relief. Now the bad, it appears that I am going to be around a little while longer.

So here is the game plan boys & girls … I plan on increasing my sarcasm by a measure of at least 18% and today I am going to town to celebrate with a BLT.

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Negative Ruminations

imgresFor the first time in something like 200 years, a Pope is resigning and throwing in the towel.  Two books on the subject say that “the internal politic’s of the church” are the main culprit and that the stress and strain of dealing with it on a daily basis is why the Head Man In Charge is stepping down. 

Too many cooks will often spoil the soup, is what my Mama used to say, and it appears that all this negative influence has pulled the man down.  Details can be found here.

This is something to think about when negative people are doing their best to rain on your parade. So remember this the next time someone who knows nothing and cares less tries to make your life miserable.

There was a woman who was at her hairdresser’s getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband.  She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded:  “Rome?  Why would anyone want to go there? It’s crowded and dirty. You’re crazy to go to Rome.  So, how are you getting there?” 

“We’re taking Continental,” was the reply. “We got a great rate!” 

“Continental?” exclaimed the hairdresser. “That’s a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they’re always late.  So, where are you staying in Rome?”

“We’ll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome ‘s Tiber River called Teste.”  The hairdresser responded: “Don’t go any further. I know that place.  Everybody thinks its gonna be something special and exclusive, but it’s really a dump.”

Not to be deterred the woman getting her hair done responded:  “We’re going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope.”

“That’s rich,” laughed the hairdresser. “You and a million other people trying to see him.  He’ll look the size of an ant.  Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You’re going to need it.” 

A month later, the woman again came in for a touchup on her hairdo.

The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.  “It was wonderful,” explained the woman, “not only were we on time in one of Continental’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot.  And the hotel was great! They’d just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it’s a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner’s suite at no extra charge!” 

“Well,” muttered the hairdresser, “that’s all well and good, but I know you didn’t get to see the Pope.”   

“Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me.  Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me..”   

“Oh, really!  What’d he say?” the hairdresser asked.  The woman getting her hair done replied … He said: “Who ****** up your hair?”

Uh, no good huh?  Well whadya expect for free?

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Try this one on for size.

A) The number of physicians in the U.S. is 700,000.  (B) Accidental deaths caused by Physicians per year are 120,000.  (C) Accidental deaths per physician is 0.171  Statistics courtesy of U.S. Dept. of Health and Human Services.

Now please consider this: (A) The number of gun owners in the U.S. is estimated to be 80,000,000.  (Yes, that’s 80 million)  (B) The number of accidental gun deaths per year, all age groups, is 1,500.  (C) The number of accidental deaths per gun owner is .0000188  Statistics courtesy of FBI

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So, statistically, doctors are approximately 9,000 times more dangerous than gun owners.  Remember that …  “Guns don’t kill people, doctors do.”

So here is the bottom line, where the rubber meets the road:

Not everyone has a gun … But … Almost everyone has at least one doctor.

This means you are over 9,000 times more likely to be killed by a doctor as by a gun owner.  Please alert your friends to this alarming threat.  We must ban doctors before this gets completely out of hand! *

OOO

*Out of concern for the public at large, we withheld the statistics on lawyers for fear the shock would cause people to panic and seek medical attention … (sorry Larry)

Curve Ball


Here you go boys & girls, Friday’s post.  You will be happy to know, this post has no mention of Twitter, Facebook, Malware or medicine to treat an ugly rash under your right armpit.  In other words … It is just a taste of life. 

This morning I find myself sitting in the well worn comfortable chair at Buell’s Barbershop waiting on a haircut and a shave.  And I notice all of the hair in this small town country barbershop lying on the floor is a gray color. 

Which made me think to myself, perhaps I will write a post on that. 

So here it is.

Life threw me another curve this week and I was not ready for it.  You ever notice as you get older, things sort of happen, when you are not paying attention?  I had the power washer out the other day doing some chores and when I went to shut it down, I tipped it up to unhook the hose (this is more convenient than bending over or stooping down to remove it) and some gasoline ran out of the tank onto my left foot.

At the time, I of course was oblivious to this, and did not notice it at all.

Later on I am headed to town for lunch and I keep smelling gasoline in the old truck and I am wondering to myself, “What is wrong with this thing now?” (It has close to 160K on it so it is prone to break things)  All the time it is the left foot that has all the gasoline on it that is creating the odor.  Later on in the day, I disrobe to shower, and my left foot is all red (in the area of the tennis shoe spill) and I freak out.

“Holy mother of Gawd … What the _____ is that?”

This is what happens to you when something out of the ordinary happens to you as you grow older … You freak out.  Unfortunately, it also kicks into gear, quickly bringing everything to a head, the worry or anxiety feature of adult living.

Man, should I call the clinic?
How will I drive and stop the bus with only one foot?
Do they give you a discount on tennis shoes when you only have to buy one?
How will I ever get up on a horse again.

This morning I am running the gauntlet of human emotions trying to ascertain why “all of a sudden I am really red on this one foot.”  After my third cup of coffee it finally came to me (The Ice Man’s Head melts) “it was the gas on the tennis shoe.”  All is now right in my world, but believe me, “it is not easy being me.”

Fast forward to the next day.

In am at the RV repair shop and I am inquiring about some batteries for my coach, much like humans, they wear out too.  I happen to strike up a conversation with this guy, and right off the bat, he informs me (a total stranger) that he is seventy-four years old.  This in turn makes me think about all of these folks I run into, who for no apparent reason inform me of their age.

Kind of a modern day mystery or social oddity here lately.  We seem to have this preoccupation with our age these days.  Might be because we are all growing older and America is quickly graying out.

Not long ago, a few years perhaps, I find myself standing on the south rim of the Grand Canyon, a huge tour bus pulls up and out of its innards comes a slow moving procession of elderly folks.  They all line up at the overlook and instead of hearing … “What a moving, inspirational sight … or … Look at the grandeur of that .. How far do you suppose it is to the other side?” …

I hear: 

“After my last operation they put me on this … My doctor said that I should take two of these every morning … I am now urinating in shifts, it is really irritating the ____ out of me … No seriously, I am tellin ya Frank, those little blue pills really work.”

Life changes you not only physically but the way you think too.

When you are young, you walk up to complete strangers and announce in no uncertain terms, “I am four.”  Usually holding up the corresponding fingers to verify the statement.  Then you move onto fractions, “I am eight and one-half, nine and a quarter” when you tell someone or answer up when they inquire of you your current age.  Then it is the “almost there years.”  I am almost thirteen, I am almost sixteen, soon I will be twenty and no longer a teenager.

Life is like that, I don’t know why, but it is.

“Don’t trust anyone over thirty” remember that one. Then there is this middle age thing, which is kind of ridiculous.  Most folks when they hit forty-five or fifty claim to be “middle aged.”  Who do you know over 100 years old, few if any.  Then almost magically you find yourself pushing sixty and over the hill to seventy and find that this age is the new sixty, which I do not get at all.

Last time I saw my doc, he said “you have the start of cataracts” and I asked him what causes that, and he smiled and said, “too many birthdays.”  He also told me that my cholesterol was not good and I was my perfect weight if I was seven feet tall.  Suggested that I get some exercise in my later years, so I took him up on the offer.

Just been to the gym. They’ve got a new machine in.  Could only use it for half an hour, as I started to feel sick.  It’s great though.  “It provides me with everything I need – KitKats, Mars Bars, Snickers, Potato Crisps, the lot..”  Now if I could just locate some suitable loose fitting clothing, I would have it made. 

Not bad, for sixty-four and three-quarters, whadya think? 

Have a great weekend … see y’all on Monday.

OOO

Find Your Happy Place

Here is your Prescription and Ankle Bracelet

I started out to write about “being happy” and where it is that one would want to live, to be truly content in this world?  Not an easy subject by any means.  All my good intentions on this subject seemingly have evaporated into thin air, and I again find myself regrouping and asking myself the same old question.  “Is it me or has this world we live in, gone totally ##@#$!#F** insane?”  This having to prove you are a solid citizen crap before you can get something, hell anything done, is getting pretty old.

Just yesterday, I thought I was happy, having recently been sick and recovering somewhat, I ventured out to get a prescription refilled.  It was good to be on the move for a change, it was good to get out and about the masses, it was time to refill my prescription.

Bad move.

It was sort of like that old song, “I fought the law, and The Law won.” Remember that one?  So here is the background, to get everyone on the same page, to set our sail and to chart our course … get us up to speed.   I get sick.  I go to the doctor and I tell him I am sick, he prescribes for me medicines that I take home and use.  The doctor, who is not currently living inside my pain-filled body and does not know how I am responding to the virus that has me down, makes an educated guess on just how much medicine and what type of treatment, that I need to use, in order to combat this enemy of my good health.

I understand that.

At home however, it is apparent to me, sitting on the throne pushing it out one end, and bringing it up and depositing it in to hand held trash can on the other end, that is is clearly not working.  (Yeah I know TMI = Too Much Information)  It seems to me that the dosage (one teaspoon per day, is NOT going to cut it) and is far too low, so being as I am my best health care advocate in the end, I increase this to “two doses” per day which seems to work.

This apparently, was my first mistake.  I do not call the doctor, I just try and take care of business.  Everything seems to be working just swell and my situation improves.  Increasing the dosage works for me, it does however I discover later on, does not work for the law.

Here lies the problem.

The prescription runs out, prematurely because I have “increased the dosage” and unknown to me, it presents a new hurdle to my recovery efforts and my journey back to healthy living.  I go to refill it and they will not do this, even tho’ the label clearly states “one refill.”

Somewhat irritated (which isn’t anything new when you are sick), I ask the pharmacist bluntly, “What is the problem?”  The druggist says to me “that he is required by law to call it in” and after calling it in, that it cannot be refilled because it was written as a 20 day prescription” (at the very best I have to wait until the 28th of the month according to the law) and being that I am early on this, he cannot refill it.

Which to me just doesn’t make sense, and I will try and tell you why.

#1:  The doctor writes his “best guess” on the dosage and the prescription.
#2  As long as you can prove that you are this person (on the prescription) and it says one refill … then damn the time limit, damn the law, refill the damn thing.  The last thing a sick person needs, when they are genuinely sick, is a quick case study on pharmaceutical law.
#3  The name of the game is getting better it is not playing games with “the law.

It makes no difference to me what the law says, “I have fulfilled the requirements of the law.  I presented a valid prescription, I had proof of who I was, the doctor agreed that it was written on his pad.  He noted that it could be refilled one time (nothing about time limits on the label by the way) in my way of thinking, this is no big deal.” In other words, “it appeared to me a do-able no big thing type of endeavor.”

Wrong.

The LAW says it cannot be done, so therefore, even tho every requirement is there (which to me is the frustrating part of all this) it cannot be refilled.  The only thing that I did not have was the patience to deal with this apparent ignorance.  I mean, smack my butt and call me Judy, I see NO CRIME being committed here anywhere.  Why do we give all this power to people to deal with us on simple matters which seem to be impossible to solve in the end?

Pretty simple, because it is the LAW

It doesn’t have to make sense, it doesn’t have to have a valid reason, it just has to be complied with … Why?  Because somehow, someway, we now live in a nation of laws, not common sense, we are told what to do, when to do it, why we can, why we cannot … and I suppose like lot of other Americans, I am getting tired of it.

I see laws in this country each and every day circumvented by the rich or the quick on their feet crowd, they do it all the time.  Often with impunity and careless disregard for anyone and everyone who instituted them in the first place.  But as a citizen I am often required to “toe the line, cross every T and dot every I” when it comes to the law.

And frankly … I am just tiring of all this BS (Bad Situations) being thrust on me to deal with.

So here is the take away, “if you have a bad experience with your doctor or health care provider, you have an option of changing that” which is good.  (For the record:  I am satisfied with my doctor, he is  great guy, does a swell job, and I appreciate him most assuredly)  Now as for my government?  Unfortunately, I am stuck with that, if it runs amuck (somewhat akin to a chicken with its head cut off), sadly there isn’t much you can do for that.  Voting in new representation only creates MORE of them.  I don’t need MORE government, MORE LAW, I just need these moron’s that write it … to leave me alone.

When I need Sudafed for a stopped up Sinus issue, don’t lecture me on Tweakers and Methamphetamine’s, give me what I need.  I am not hoping to score sixty packs of sinus relief or 400 Coffee Filters, I am looking for help.  Run that header on the front page of your rag.

As for the happiest place in the world to live?  “I don’t have clue, but I can tell you this, today it is NOT in El Reno, Oklahoma … It aint even in the top five.”

OOO

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