I sold my beloved Remington 1100 12 gage shotgun the other day.  It just kind of happened.  I didn't need the money, nor the space it was taking up in the gun safe.  It hadn't made me mad or refused to load or anything.  It just got caught up in the moment and then sold.  Odd end to a long relationship and one that's left me feeling a little...I don't know.  

I bought the gun about twenty five years ago for four hundred bucks and was glad to get it for that.  It was still new and in the box.  If you don't know anything about shotguns the 1100 is a great hunting or skeet and trap weapon and I killed a lot of rabbits and pheasant with that gun.  It also held it's own against the rich guys inlayed and fancy over and unders during trap shoots and was by far my favorite...and yet I sold it.

I was having a beer at the local watering hole and the manager was talking about how ...

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I have come up with a couple of medical issues that seem to be feeding off each other.  I'll be ok it's just the chain of events is quite mind boggling.  Long and short of it is treatment for one of the problems....which has to be fixed before they can fix my ticker again....is steroids.  Big doses of steroids.  This causes diabetes while on the steroids.  If you are a diabetic and deal with this every day you are amazing.  Log books, what carbs mean, sliding scales, testing 4 times a day, shots, figuring doses.  This is a frackin' full time job to a rube like me.  Holy crap how do you do this?    When they get me fixed and I don't have to do this anymore I'll be the happiest guy in the world!!!  And, never look at anybody who deals with this for a lifetime the same way again.  I know people ask me sometimes, "How did you get through that (whatever it was)  and the answer is because I had ...

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I don't usually post journal entries for the same reason I don't have a facebook page.  There is nothing going on in my life worth blabbing to the world about.  In this case I just need to vent a little and I don't want my wife to know that I'm pissed off, and a little uncomfortable about my next little hurdle.

A few months ago I found out I'm usually in Afib.  A funny little heart condition where the top of your heart kinda flutters and the bottom tries to make the corrections.  It makes it so not a lot of oxygen gets pushed through the old blood stream and you gas out kinda easy.  Through three different medications and even getting restarted once it keeps going right back to afib.  The next step was supposed to be on the 19th where the doctor goes in and zaps the part of your heart that is causing the afib and you are supposed to be cured.  Cool.  I'm in.  Sign me up. 

Then a couple ...

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I admit it. I'm a junkie. I love this place with all my heart. I come here to relax, to harmlessly flirt with anyone who will respond, to trade insults with my main bitch melissab, to escape from the bullsh*t that is my real life. I can't take much more of this. I need to throw in my insults, give somebody my bullshi*t opinions, just do whatever, and not worry about any ratsafrassin bull crap. Bill, you need to fix this quick before I go on a five state killing spree! I need a release! A place to relax! I ain't kidding, I'm going nuts here! I got enough reality with the real world! I don't wanna hear about your problems, just fix them!

So I get kicked off the Internet at work, and after a couple of days I drag my sorry ass back here for a little entertainment and what? The place is frackin' closed!? WTF? I give up. I need more stability in my whack off time. This just ain't gettin' it. I'll check back in in a week or so.

So they took the internet away at work. Too many people downloading games and stuff screwing up the system. Sucks big time. I miss the music while I'm doing payroll and reading email. Oh well, the AU will survive without me in the daytime I'm sure. I will miss all the hot chicks though. Major suckage.

Unassociated Press Release
Oklahoma City

Local Aging Hippie Abducted By Aliens

A local man who was on his way back from a 7-11 last night after stocking up with a case of Shiner was seen being lifted by a strange light into a shiny hovering UFO.

Known by many as Schlabby, the man seemed not to mind the fact that he was levitating toward an open cargo door on the craft, and in fact looked to have a sort of smirk on his face as he was reaching in to his coat pocket while disappearing into the light.

What followed next was a chain of events that are still not clear to all the witnesses. It seems there was a lot of screaming coming from the vehicle, then some loud POPs, and streams of light began appearing from the inside of the UFO through the shell, like laser beams. The saucer then went off it's axis for a moment, a sort of FOOOM was heard, and what looked like a balled up old goat roper was ejected from the craft like a human cannon ball. ...


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I don't care what that crazy ski bum Alafia says, snow sucks. That is all.

See, the problem with this is, you can't remember which journal you were in when you sent a reply so when you want to see if anybody replied to your reply....it just sucks.

With the score smokes-1 Rasputin-0 I have had to come up with a new plan. Bought the mints, read the directions, and will pick a new stop date, probably when I get back from the most boring two day class in the world. Decided to do the whole thing from start to finish even if half way through I think I'm ok. Trekhead, I feel like that guy Lazarus in an old Star Trek episode who had to fight with himself between dimensions for all eternity.


Welly, I'm ok. Just have had my house taken apart, and put back together with a new front porch. Workers around every day for a month. A little nerve rattling. Thanks for thinking about me.

Beanie, you shouldn't tell everything you know. One little neck pinch. I didn't tell them how long you were out, or where your birth marks are.

I folded like a cheap lawn chair on day eight and smoked a couple. Same every day since. Just a couple but the serpent has me by the throat and we are locked in mortal combat. I am not good company and don't much care for myself right now. I miss you though.

You can't screw this up. It's the thought that counts.

A toga party at Winters. That would be a good idea.

I don't much believe in heaven or hell but when dogs die, wherever they go I hope they're allowed on the furnature because I will always remember Soda stretched out in her big overstuffed chair by the window, lounging away a sunny afternoon with the breeze on her pretty face.

It looks like I have to go under the knife again. Cancer. Again. Peachy. Just f**king peachy. I'll be ok they tell me, and it won't be as bad as the last time, (Bladder removed two years ago)but it's gonna smart for a while. So please don't be mad at me if my sense of humor is whacked, and I say something stupid. I'm only about half here, and would never say anything to hurt anybody. Just ain't hittin' on all eight right now, and could screw up.

I think I must have taken a drink from Winters canteen. I'm bored out of my skull around here, and need a change. You would think with eighteen hundred inmates, sixty two deputies, five supervisors under me, a medical staff, and a bunch of cooks, I'd have plenty to do. But not really.

There is a job opening at the downtown jail for a lieutenant, and they actually need somebody. Maybe it will kick me back in to gear, and it won't be such a drag going to work. At least it's a change of pace, and I can wait until the next opening out of corrections comes open so I can maybe catch bad guys again. Babysitting just ain't my thing.