I don’t know about anyone else, but I like to check my spam email because I get a kick out of what’s in there. Why, just today I found out I was wanted in court for charges pending in Aurora, Illinois, Anchorage, Alaska and Raleigh, North Carolina. Wow! I must have blacked out again from a combination of booze and Ambien because firstly I don’t remember flying to those cities nor do I recall perpetrating the crimes (which of course are not mentioned by name, only implied). What I have to do, prior to showing up at my hearing (that will go on in my absence I have been reassured) is download the attached file so that I may have all the proper paperwork in order once I show up. Is that all? Whew! That’s a relief. I was worried you might want some money or something. So, with this in mind, I have some questions:
Question #1: Is this working on anybody? I’ve been getting this type of email now for the last couple of months and am wondering if it is a virus (I’m pretty sure it’s a virus) or the perpetrators have found a way to extort money out of people via this method somehow. You know, like the messages you get from the Prince of Nigeria who has a billion dollars he needs to transfer into your bank account, all he needs is all of your pertinent info and voila! You are rich. Wow, was that easy. I should have done that a long time ago!
Question #2: Why do people waste their time with this shit? Really, you’ve got nothing better to do than to send out computer viruses disguised as phony lottery winnings (I’ve won every kind of lottery you can imagine, from the Google lottery to the Yahoo lottery to the Wells Fargo lottery…man am I lucky! I’m going to buy a Powerball ticket right now!) or some other ridiculous crap. Seriously, if that is your hobby, find another one. I hear making dolls out of earwax is all the rage right now.
Question #3 and final question: How come I keep getting messages from girls who want to give me a massage and then a blowjob but they don’t even say their name, who they are and how they know who I am? And how did they know that the key to my heart (a deep, dark secret that NO ONE could have known about me) is that I am sucker for a massage and a blowjob? Seriously, how could they have known?!?! Its not like I advertised it or something. I also like food and beer, but that’s another secret I don’t tell too many people about.
So there it is, the wide, wide world of the Internet where faceless entities can send ridiculous messages around the world in order to spread computer viruses or try and hack into your bank account. I really wish I had that kind of free time on my hands, I truly do. If I did I could probably come up with a cure for cancer (or write a better blog than this one). At the very least think of a scam of my own that isn’t as silly as telling someone they need to appear in court in some city they don’t live in nor have ever visited (I’ve been to Aurora (hey Bob, how’s the wife and kids?) I DID live in Raleigh but that was in ’93, but I’ve never been to Anchorage (although I did have sex with a girl from anchorage, also in the ‘90’s…maybe she set me up!) Cassandra, wherever you are, I want my Soundgarden CD back! And can we hook up again? You might have heard, I like massages and blowjobs and you were really good at both of those. Ciao!
This is an absolutely amazing story. I want to go there, like, right now!
Originally posted on Flickr Blog:
What began as a rickety wood pathway to install antenna cables over a cliff in 1942 has become a hiker’s enigma often called the “Stairway to Heaven.”
World War II motivated the U.S. military to build a radio transceiver station atop Hawaii’s Puʻukeahiakahoe mountain. The station sent low-frequency signals to communicate with submarines navigating around Japan. The Haiku Stairs (Haʻikū means “sharp break” in Hawaiian) offers a steep 2,500-foot ascent on Oahu that reaches the now abandoned station. Despite receiving an $875,000 metal renovation in 2003, according to to-hawaii.com, the trail is forbidden to many visitors wanting to endure the series of steps. The prohibition, nevertheless, hasn’t held back everyone from the climb and arriving at its wonderful island landscape views.
We asked the Friends of Haiku Stairs (FHS) volunteer organization to get the inside scoop on the popular attraction:
What’s the current status and future of the Haiku…
View original 219 more words
This list is awesome and I saw that I did quite a few of these things in my youth. The older we get the wiser we get, right? I certainly hope so!
Originally posted on Bucket List Publications:
Is there one of these that you do often? Are there several? Let’s let the good things catch up.
Written by Marc and Angel
When you stop chasing the wrong things you give
the right things a chance to catch you.
View original 1,685 more words
I didn’t want to have to write this post, I really didn’t, but what the hell here it is: this month marks the year anniversary of my hypnic twitches. They began on March 12th of 2013 and as of this date (March 22nd 2014) they are still with me. Maybe I should buy myself a cake and celebrate.
When they started I didn’t believe they would stay with me for over a week, a month tops I’d thought. I went five days without sleeping when I finally sought medical help at an urgent care facility. The doctor prescribed Trazadone and it did not work so I went back and she gave me twenty tablets of 2mg Lorazapam. That did work, but the one pill dose stopped working after four nights and then I had to combine one Lorazapam with one Trazadone, one Benadryl, and one 10mg melatonin. After four days on this regimen I was shitting liquid every thirty minutes and realized I needed to see my doctor.
In previous posts I’ve talked about that whole fiasco, my doctor not believing I had REAL symptoms and telling me I was bi-polar and then throwing all kinds of pills at me that didn’t work. In all I saw six doctors (one of them a psychiatrist) until I was able to see a neurologist who finally diagnosed me with exaggerated hypnic twitches. I did a sleep study to the tune of $4500, and when I tallied up all I spent on the whole thing it was well over $10,000 in doctors, pills and lost wages.
The twitches were really bad for the first six months, so strong my limbs would literally fly up of their own accord just as I was falling to sleep. My arm, my leg, my whole body; and once they happen you are wide awake, lying there and thinking ‘what the fuck?!?’ The days of exhaustion that followed were grueling.
Of course when I did the sleep study the twitches went into remission; one thing I’d discovered about this wonderful medical anomaly was that it would go away for varying periods of time. Sometimes for a week, sometimes a month. When I did the sleep study it was in remission so the doctor didn’t prescribe any medication. It came raging back a week later with a vengeance from the grave, seriously, stronger than it had ever been. Then after two weeks it went away again. And went like this over the course of the summer of 2013 until I begged the neurologist for a prescription of Clonazapam, which he granted.
Fortunately for me that worked, and I only took it when I absolutely had to. As of this writing the first bottle of sixty pills (.5 mg tablets) lasted me seven months thanks to the twitches going into remission for up to three weeks at a time at some points.
As of the last two months I have yet to see a remission period like that, in fact have to take it at least twice a week (and am at the point where I am regulating it as such because after the initial prescription and two refills I can’t get more without seeing the neurologist and I have since moved from that city). I have the pills counted out that I can make it almost a year from today (48 days shy of a year) if I take four tablets a week. If the condition persists I will have to see a doctor and try to get another prescription for it.
The silver lining? The twitches have subsided to small spasms of sorts; they are no longer so hardcore, with my legs or arms flying up wildly. They are now little spasms in my shoulders or whole body, leading me to believe that they can eventually go away. But, even though they are reduced in strength, they still keep me awake. Large or small they still cause me to toss and turn as I struggle for that elusive sleep. Another blessing is that I am able to get at least four hours of sleep before they start; generally they come on at the halfway point of the night where they used to start from initial sleep onset and carry on through the morning.
This goes out to anyone suffering from this type of sleeping disorder. May you find some relief from this baffling neurological condition and hopefully you won’t have to persuade some narrow minded doctor that the twitches are real, that they aren’t something that is in your head. Clonazapam is the only thing that has truly worked at keeping these twitches at bay and trust me, I’ve tried a LOT of different medications. Ambien, Lunesta, Lorazapam, Xanax, Remeron, Trazadone, liquid THC, melatonin, Doxylamine, ropinerole, Benadryl…all of those have brought me some relief but none of them truly worked. Sleep is extremely necessary and when you go without it makes for an arduous day.
Say the word ‘suicide’ and it feels nasty coming out of your mouth. The implications of the word are terrifying, that someone would hate life so much that they would choose to end it. It can’t be so bad, right? I mean, there is nothing in this world so terrible that it would drive someone to that definitive act, one that cannot be taken back no matter how desperately the survivors wish it was so. In a word: no. It happens every day whether we like it or not.
This blog is a eulogy of sorts, I guess, but I am dedicating it to more than one person. The reason I endeavor to do this is because the theme is universal; we all know someone who has taken their own life and we are left in the wake of their passing scratching our heads, wondering why. There is always a reason, although some choose not to expound upon it by leaving the prerequisite note. Sometimes the reason is simply implied, something we gather from extenuating circumstances.
A few days ago a man I knew from my hometown of DePere, Wisconsin, chose to take his own life. I do not know the manner in which he did it, all I know is that the deed was done. He left behind a girlfriend and two foster children and countless friends. I had not seen him for over two decades yet had spoken with him on the phone about sixteen months ago, regarding the passing of one of his dogs. I’d sent out a group message on Facebook advertising the release of my latest novel and when he got it he took it to be personal in nature and messaged me back that he was down because his dog had died. I could commiserate, having worked with animals for the last fifteen years, and told him to call me anytime, leaving him my number. He didn’t call me that day, but did so a few months later and we talked for almost an hour about various things: companion animals, bands, concerts, people we mutually knew, the city we grew up in etc. I felt good about it afterward, that he had reached out to me, even though he and I had never been what could be construed as ‘good’ friends. Mostly, in high school, we rode to school together with another guy who had a car and we took part in illicit activities that bonded us better than words sometimes can. I don’t know much else about him except that we always got along; he was a nice guy, I can honestly say I don’t think he had any enemies. After high school I left that little town for a big city (big in comparison: Milwaukee) and never saw him again. About five years ago we became friends on Facebook and later the above-mentioned correspondence occurred.
He isn’t the only person I know that has committed suicide. A friend (someone I knew much better in high school, a kid I’d played in a band with) killed himself in 2006, for reasons unknown to me. Not that it should come as a surprise; I hadn’t spoken with him since the early 90’s when I ran into him at a bar in Green Bay and the thing I remember about it was him telling me that I was lucky I got out of there, meaning DePere. Small town life shouldn’t be considered a death sentence, but to him it was, I guess. As with this most recent case I have no idea what his method was, only that it happened. So that is why I say that I dedicate this to more than one person, and what the hell I’ll also dedicate it to myself.
I’ve often fantasized about suicide, being of a creative nature and a man who seems to be in a near constant state of ‘finding’ himself. I am a failed musician, a so far failed writer…I have tried and failed a lot of things in my life but sometimes I feel intrinsically that I would succeed at suicide if I ever so choose to take that route. It takes a certain amount of dedication to carry it out though (and a lot of guts to boot, no matter how ‘cowardly’ the act may seem), and so far (fortunately) I lack the courage.
With that said I am glad that I always find a reason not to do it, and I wish these two men had found that reason as well. But, going further down the rabbit hole, maybe they are happier where they are. I don’t believe we should impose our will on others, making them live when they don’t have the strength to. If someone wants to do it than it is their choice, end of story. Of course I agree with the old saying ‘suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem’ but who are we to place sanctions on people’s lives, who are we to judge?
Coinciding with this man’s suicide (coincidentally?) I am presently reading ‘Heavier Than Heaven’ the biography of Kurt Cobain. I’ve had suicide on my mind as of the past week and it is unpleasant that I should encounter it first hand, via someone I once knew. It always hurts much more when you can put a real face on it, when it was someone you laughed and talked and hung out with, no matter how much time has passed since you’ve seen them. The ghostly image of the obituary photo from 2006 still resonates with me; in fact I came across it last week while digging through a box looking for something else. In the photo he is smiling, happy, but the untold story was the darkness in his heart of a future deed he would perpetrate while all along everyone around him probably thought he was fine.
But all that aside, here is to you guys (I am figuratively raising a glass in a toast) and I hope that wherever you are (be it in an ‘afterlife’ or simply in the ground) that you have finally found peace. Amen.
Author photo courtesy of Aline Hernandez…
Having realized that most blogs people read are either about sports, politics, science or how to get others to read your blog I have given up the fantasy that anyone will read this, but I will continue this forum anyway despite such drawbacks. And what the hell, right? Can’t hurt. So without further adieu here is my latest post, announcing my newest book, the Sci/Fi speculative fiction masterpiece ‘Glitch In The Machine’. This book will be available in May as an ebook on Amazon.com, followed by the print edition in the summer of 2014. Here is the hook:
In an era of mandatory health insurance, why are everyone’s claims being denied?
It’s 2025 and America is a shell of it’s former self, staffed by a puppet government run by overseas despots and dictators. Big business has taken over, in particular health insurance companies, pharmaceutical corporations and weapons manufactures. The population is now divided between the 99%’ers and the 1%’ers, with food, drug and product testing no longer a part of the government’s social programs. In fact, there are no social programs anymore; government involvement has come to a standstill, defeated by their overlord’s crushing greed. For the 99%’ers this a nightmare world of unregulated food and drugs, one in which they are legally required to have health insurance if they wish to see a doctor, but inevitably will find their health insurance claims are regularly denied because of various ‘technicalities’. Enter Floyd Jasper, a hired killer trained by the 1% wealthy elite to sniff out fraudulent health care claims submitted by the impoverished 99%’ers and initiate a termination sequence…on their lives, that is.
His job, should he choose to accept it (and he did, oh hell yeah) is to mete out justice as he sees fit in a hail of bullets or a well-placed twist of his bone handled ‘killing knife’. He is good at what he does, a veritable one-man extermination machine, but eventually time runs out on his maniacal ways and soon the hunter becomes the hunted.
Accepting aid from a well-endowed, blood thirsty co-worker, they embark on an inquest to find out who wants him dead, only to become immersed in a world of suicide cults, megalomaniacal military leaders, population control demolitions experts and, ultimately, find he is to be groomed as the second coming of ‘Christ’ in a no holds barred, winner takes all battle royal of the classes. The 99%’ers versus the 1%’ers in a version of ‘Occupying Wall Street’ that the world has never known.
At times comically upbeat, at turns tragically brutal, Glitch In The Machine is a roller coaster, whirlwind of a novel that never pauses long enough for the reader to catch their breath. The first person narrative is reminiscent of Chuck Palahniuk, and was written from a ‘Vonnegutian’ point of view, intended for audiences who enjoyed his work, as well as that of Anthony Burgess. Glitch In The Machine is Clockwork Orange meets The Terminator with a dash of Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Bladerunner thrown in for good measure.
Look for it on Amazon.com as early as May 2014!