Allow Me To Dust Off This Old Chestnut For Your Perusal. Also Known As A Passive-Aggressive Cry For Help?

I have a horrible habit of letting people kind of make me do things. Insert the “You’re the Bear” commentary. I’ll wait. Done? Cool.

I have this ingrained need to help people. I need to help them as much as I need to breathe and it never occurs to me, except in situations precisely like this one, when I am just allowed a moment to think, that there will always be people willing to take advantage of this fact. My good friends, hell even my kid of friends, don’t do this, it is those people on the edge of things, the people in your orbit yet not close enough to you every day to say hello, you know the people I am talking about here. it starts with a little favor, then a bigger one, and so on until I gave that fucking bitch two grand and I didn’t even realize it until way too late. Or when I let that cunt move into my house, destroy a relationship, and kick ME out of MY house. All because I needed to be the White Knight riding to the rescue.

I have learned a few things over the years.

For starters, all of the People in My Heart are not helpless. I am never going to be their Obi-Wan, I am not only okay with this, but it is also a principal column of my sanity. When you make me realize that I am not SUPPOSED to help everyone, my mental health gets a massive boost and I can be as normal as whatever that word means to me.

These insidious motherfuckers though, they worm their way into me because I am about as soft a touch as ever has been. I assume they won’t lie to me, because, I mean, we’re people, right?

No, no we aren’t.

So yet again, and I know some of you are sick and tired of me having this epiphany, trust me, you are way less sick of it than I am of having it. Yet again I sit here with the decision made to, while not necessarily hardening my heart to those in need, perhaps inspect their motives just a little deeper, maybe ask a question or two. Why? Why Me? Why would you possibly need me to look up flight times when you have the internet?

Basic things.

My Tribe knows this does not apply to them, however, I am saying it so I can show them it does not. Friends help friends, it is a cornerstone of the whole word.

For now, more caffeinated bean beverage, maybe with a lot of extra wake up juice added.

Maybe meaning yes.

No, I Don’t Want To Read Or Write About This Shit Either, Yet Here We Fucking Are.

I don’t want to talk about isolation and quarantining, about COVID-19 and social distancing, about any or all of the things that are going on in the world right now, but because some stupid people that decided that they needed to go to the beach, Piggly-Wiggly, El Toritos, and Wal-Mart, I have to because to not talk about it is tantamount with agreeing with these barely cognitive human stupid sacks.

You know what? NO ONE likes being inside right now, for the umpteenth week in a row. No governor wants to shut down his state and kill his GDP over this thing. No one wants to have to do this and that. NO ONE.

However, this is a situation that is very much the needs of the many over the needs of the few. Should I allow you to go to your stupid little things and risk getting me and mine sick? Should I not be rising with the same moral vitriol that you are? I don’t want to keep you out of church or to take your fucking guns away. Really. Do you think that us libtards do nothing all day but think about guns? If you’ll remember the script, that’s your thing, not ours. I happen to love guns, I’m even a decent shot with a .45, so keep them, keep ALL of them.

I want this to end so I can go to the fucking gym, walk around a supermarket that has things in it, go grab a beer at a bar and not have to leave as soon as I grab it.

YOU ARE PREVENTING THIS.

Yeah, it fucking sucks. Deal with it, sunshine.

We ALL have to deal with it.

Stop jerking your meat to Trump for 30 seconds and just fucking think.

No virus spread equals you getting to go do the things you like to do, maybe find places where that $1200-totally-not-socialist-at-all-because-this-is-‘Murica check came from to spend it.

Or are you content to wave the flag, which for the record is the flag of the Army of Tennessee under General Joseph E. Johnston and was never once the actual flag of the CFA, and make all of us sit in our homes ad infinitum and then, when you get sick, because fuckers, you will get sick, we start this all over? You ain’t going to get a check again broseph, trust and believe that.

Your Orange Messiah cares as much for you as he does his personal appearance, the fact that it’s obvious he wants to bang his daughter and the state of the country he pretends to run.

Stay your fucking asses at home so that we can do the exact opposite of that once it is safe you selfish, brainwashed, fucking sheep.

Truly Ask Yourself What You Are, and What You Are Not. Then See If Anyone Agrees With You At All.

I am a lot of things to a lot of people. I am a Brother and Lover and Friend and Bear and Bruncle and Father and Confidant and People and Tribe and so many other words that don’t mean anything to anyone other than myself and a single person, or a group of three, or maybe to no one at all because they are gone.

I am all of these things and I am so very happy that I have the opportunity to be them. I love people, I love to love people, I love that I love to love people. You get the point I think.

Here is what I am not.

I am not the guy you know who knows how the drug things work and if you should go to the ER if this or that is happening. You are not calling me because you want to know a yes or a no, you want someone else to make a call. I may have been a drug dealer and a junkie, but I can assure you that I am so far removed from those things as to be laughable to people who do not happen to know it is true. I am not the person you are going to call at three in the morning and ask where to score an eight-ball cause your Lady dumped you and you’re feeling “less than ideal for socializing” right now. I am not the person who is going to enable you when you tell me that I did it, so I am a hypocrite if I tell you not to. I am not the person who is going to pick up the phone to talk to you, text you, or talk to the guy who is with you that is terrified because you haven’t told them what you are on because you have no idea because you literally believe it when a dude who sells you a bag of powder says that “it will be fine, it’s all good” and then takes your three large. I will not be your alibi anymore, I will not be your excuse, your lie, your secret, your contact, your friend or your acquaintance.

I am not the guy who is going to lie to your girlfriend/wife about where you were because you wanted a little strange you met at some skeezy ass dive bar on a goddamn Tuesday. I am not going to sit with her and hold her hand while you are gone, knowing exactly where you are and duty-bound by some goddamn twenty-year-old debt I have paid you a thousandfold for. I am not going to be the biggest skeleton in a closet full of a graveyard. I am not going to be the one who gets to hold them as they cry when you, again, leave the state to avoid everything from an audit from your boss to TWENTY YEARS of child support payments you pretended you didn’t need to make because you decided that he didn’t look enough like you and that was that.

I am not the guy who is going to be your emotional jizz rag anymore and then, when I need ANYTHING, you walk away like you didn’t hear someone screaming from their knees for you to take the gun out of their hand because you didn’t want to “get involved with that crazy you shit”. I will not keep you on the wagon year after year and then be there when you fall off of it to wipe your puke and shit off the floor, not for the eighth time I won’t be.

I am not the guy who is going to apologize for falling in love with who I fell in love with because it was inconvenient to your feelings. I will not sit idly by and watch you destroy something that was wonderful because of no other reason than you could do the damn thing and fucking with people is what gets you hard at night.

I will not take your praise and lap up your attention because you deigned to show me fucking humanity, which was a lie anyway. I OWE YOU NOTHING.

Lastly, and importantly, I owe so many, so much. Unpayable debts, unfixable pain, untold anguish.

Do not pretend you are on that list because I trusted you enough to tell you about it.

Allow Me A Moment, Or, You Know, What The Fuck Ever

I had a migraine this afternoon so I went to lay down, shortly thereafter I received a message from someone asking a favor when I told the person that I could not do said favor until when my head calmed down I was told that my reproductive glands needed to enlarge and get it done for them because that is what real men do.

So. Let’s go ahead and break this down, like a lot, especially for the people in the back.

I suffer from something known as status migrainosus, also known as intractable migraine. To vastly oversimplify the definition, it is a migraine that lasts longer than 72 hours that the normal things, such as medication, trigger removals, and even sleep have very little, if any, appreciable effect. Normally I would link you to some very good medical sites that discuss this, but it is a quarter after one in the fucking morning, I still have the migraine, and I am more than a little pissed off at the moment. Google is your friend.

Now, when I say I went to lay down I do not mean I took a little power nap in the afternoon on a Saturday. No, when I say I went to lay down what I mean is that I went upstairs, threw up everything I had eaten that day and crashed into my bed and tried very hard not to believe I was going to stroke out. I then awakened periodically to vomit and go to the bathroom until you see me here, unable to sleep and sitting in my living room typing this fucking thing on Easter Fucking Sunday morning.

The person sending the message is not as important as both what they asked and their response. They asked me, as they often do and I gladly agreed to, to look into an issue with their webserver to see if I could figure out why App A was causing Problem B. Seeing as I break my computer on a daily basis, I empathize and I help because it is the right thing to do. However, upon being told that I was down for the count as it were, they responded by telling me I needed to grow a pair and get it done because that’s what a real man would do.

We’ll talk about the obvious idiocy that is compounded multiple times in that particular phrasing another time, I promise.

I did not respond, I did, however, block said person and voluntarily remove myself from any and all accounts they allowed me access to by deleting the accounts that they had made for me for access and password resetting their chief administrator account so it could not be said I had access any longer. I then screamed into my pillow for a few minutes before falling asleep/passing out again for a few hours.

I don’t care if you both do not believe or do not understand my migraines. I do not care anymore and all of the aforementioned behaviors and similar strains thereto will be treated, henceforth, identically.

I’m going to find some very bland food to eat and drink a lot of water.

He Doesn’t Care If You Live, Die, Or Anything In Between, Unless Of Course You Pay Him

When all of this is over, there are going to be people who will talk about how it was this person’s fault, or maybe that country’s. They have already begun to point the fingers in the halls of power in many countries and I thought it prudent to remind people of a few things because I like to write and I have a lot….I mean like, a lot, of free time on my hands lately, even for me.

How the virus started is, as far as I am aware pretty much codified at this point to the wet markets in Wuhan. Pangolin, bat, something like that. it made the jump to humans as these things do and that is the only even remotely scientific thing you will hear me say for the rest of this.

What is important is the cover of the Los Angeles Times for Monday, January 27th of this year. If you can see if the picture I have linked here you will notice down in the bottom left-hand corner, below Kobe Bryant’s death, squeezed in next to the Grammy’s, you will see a story about two cases of the “new virus” from Wuhan, China.

January 27th.

Now, if you listen to the Orange FuckWaste, you will know he started the Coronavirus Task Force, or whatever the fuck it was called a few days later. However, if you recall he did not give his first big briefing/campaign rally talk on the virus to the American people, those who voted for him, and the rest of us who are smart until the 12th of March.

So, in those days between, nothing of particular substance was done at the national level, and quite frankly nothing has yet, to help stop the spread, flatten the curve and curtail the now growing death count of the virus.

He turned down the testing kits is what some say, although there are articles that say the opposite. So, for a moment, let us pretend the bumbling fuck never had that blemish. Not say he accepted, let us chalk that one up not at all.

Even with that having been said, there is the fact that he, repeatedly, has accused hospitals of hoarding supplies and falsifying numbers.

Why…Oh Why…Would a hospital want to inflate the numbers of dead and sick? Unlike the vaguely memorable, quasi-reality TV “star” Trump thinks he is, doctors don’t pretend to have things they do not have. They instead rely on things like science, and numbers, things he ignores on a nearly second by second basis.

I don’t write my politics very often, everyone knows I am as gay for the liberals as you can get, but you know what, when the orange-faced shit gibbon endangers the lives of my children by his not even half-assed attempts at containing a deadly virus, I get a little testy if I can be so direct.

So while he is being a racist and calling it the China Virus, a vile and stupid name from a man who shares the same characteristics, the people he is supposed to be governing are dying. New York is not the last of the hot spots, we all know this. This thing won’t “be over by Easter”, this is the long, fucking, haul people.

Stay safe and take care of each other the best you can, from as far away as you can, because I guarantee you he doesn’t give a fuck how many of us die as long as he gets to buy another election.