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.

Ignorance Is A Lot Of Things, Blissful And An Excuse Are Not On The List

I have been doing a lot of thinking the last few days and when I wasn’t in agonizing pain yesterday I did more. I have been thinking that this is as a good a time as any for a mid-life crisis, so I am pretty sure I am having one, but not in a particularly bad way, more of a reevaluation of how I want to live my life and influence those around me in their lives. I know I have many faults and while I am going to address those as they need to be addressed, I am not a few things that apparently some people seem to think I am. I thought I would take a second here and share with you the things I am not so that you, dear Gentle Reader, would not be in a position where you wanted to ask me about a thing only to find out that, gasp, I know it not.

Yes, I have done bad things in my life and have spent time in the correctional system to repay the debt to society I had accrued. I will never deny it and in fact, probably talk about it far more than I should. However, what I am not is a how-to book. I did my bad things almost twenty-five years ago. I did them before 9/11 changed the world and before the government of this country started reminding us all of a government from another. So my “knowledge” of the correctional system is so dated as to be laughable. I can guarantee you that I have no idea how modern things work and while, yes, I can still tell you the guards’ names at County, the fact they most of them have been retired for a decade or so should be a telling statistic, to say the least.

Yes, I did a fuckton of drugs. I still call my self an addict, just one in recovery. That having been said I will not give you the names of “dudes who can hook you up with the good shit” or, even better in my opinion, “tell you stories about it so you can say they are your stories and let me people think you are the druggie without being one”. For starters, you are an idiot. Secondly, why would I tell you where to get things that might kill you, and that almost killed me? Thirdly, do your REALLY think the people I associated with have the same PAGER numbers that they had in the late ’90s. I mean, a little common sense needs to be applied here. Not only do I not remember anyone that I used to associate in that way, but I am also so very happy that is the case. It is not a part of my life I am particularly proud of and while I am not going to try and forget it, I do not need every moment etched into my soul, I assure you, there are enough things in there.

I will do the best I can to help my friends and chosen family, and yes there is a group of people who are on a list that is more important to me than the others. I do not apologize for this and you telling me that I need to “stop prioritizing human beings like they are cattle” is not only ridiculously insulting to your own intelligence, it is trying to infer that you or anyone else can dictate how I run my life and how I associate with people.

Yes, this was a ranting kind of thing. Yes, I am going to be writing more today. Yes, some of it will be angry.

The Mind Of An Introvert In Consensual, Non-Consensual, Social Isolation – Day The Wednesday

So, when I am in a position where I am forced to think even more than I normally do, such as being in the same room for forty and fifty hours at a time, I try to think of things I can say to people who are, in this case at least, in a similar situation, to see if I can help their brains as they are all so very good at helping me every single time I ask, which is so very often.

I try to think of ways to tell them how they are appreciated and how I value them in all the ways I do. Except, in my head at least, it all gets to be this repetitive, trite-sounding, mealy-mouthed words that I say over and over again. Which, as you can imagine, does nothing for the airplane taking off in my head demanding to fix the problem that I am having and say the things I need to say to make the feelings feel the way the feelings should feel and all of that.

So then I try to over-explain what I feel to these people and it ends up this gigantic clusterfuck of nothing and everything and whatever message I was originally trying for is so hopelessly lost in the barrage of bullshit being projected from my mouth that I need to just stop and waddle, humiliated, over to my dark corner of the world.

So, instead, I am going to just vomit all of this up and hopefully, you can sift through the detritus, flotsam, and jetsam of it all and see if any of it applies to you.

I know I have been a live nerve for the last few months. I know I have been annoying and moodier than even I normally am and this raging ball of bullshit, but it is who I am. All of y’all taught me not to apologize for being me so I won’t do that. I do want to say that I know that I have said some fucked up things to some of you and I am so very sorry for doing that.

I want to tell you that there is no way I could have survived, at least mentally, this COVID-19 thing without the help of the awesome science humans I know who sat me down and very carefully explained to me why some of my fears were misplaced and, yes, why some of them were in fact very real. It allowed me to get prepared in a good way and not panic and buy 37 cases of toilet paper and no food. These people helped me make sure my babies were safe and taken care of from this thing in the ways that they needed to be.

I want to tell my best friend that I think that she is a goddamn superhero who puts up with my shit way more than any other living thing in the world combined. I do not deserve her in my life in the slightest and the fact that she can somehow make the entirety of the world stop spinning so I can do a simple thing like laugh means more to me than I can easily express without, well, doing things like this.

My friends whom I text at the ungodly times of the morning, the friends with kids who still take the time to make sure I am OK, the friends whose lives are just as chaotic, if not more so, than mine is. The heroes that still go to work outside their home in this, the champions that are working from home still. The mothers and sisters, brothers and nieces that have adopted me just as much as I have adopted them.

People who I have known forever and people I am only now getting to truly know, you have shown compassion to me and mine and while I will never believe I deserve it, I appreciate it more than you can ever possibly fathom.

Thank you for being the net I fall into every time the world gets to be chaos and I can’t accept that.

Loves

To Stink, Or Not To Stink? Is It Really A Question?

Thioacetone is an organosulfur compound with the chemical formula C3H6S.

Yup, I just wrote that sentence. Why? Well, I was going to write a story about a terrorist that essentially disables entire city blocks by making people pass out from a thing that smells so bad that it makes you pass out from the fumes. Oh yeah, true story. Look it up, Oxford in ‘67, nasty stuff.

Then, in a moment of what I can only call clarity, a few things occurred to me. I shall present these in a nice bulleted list below.

  • I know nothing about chemistry.
  • Do I want to write a story about a brown liquid that smells super bad?
  • Who wants to read this story?
  • There are things a dude on a couch should maybe not write.
  • Finally, and importantly, see bullet point the first.

I try to stay in my wheelhouse when I write things. I research as I can, do my due diligence to at least make it sound authentic, but I am pretty sure that my writing about chemistry is like a baboon describing what it is like to swim next to a blue whale. I write stories, not science.

Bet you didn’t see this bridge coming.

This is why these motherfuckers writing about a virus they don’t know a goddamn thing about pisses me right the fuck off. I mean, fuck man, people have died because of the idiocies that have been spread over this thing. The couple in Arizona that drank chloroquine phosphate. Do you know what chloroquine phosphate is? Yeah, I had to Google it too. Just because SqueezyCheese says a thing does not make it the fucking gospel. There are these people that go to school for a very long time to learn what these things are, Google is not an M.D.

Do not take medicines doctors have not told you to take. I know that is ironic coming from the junkie, but come on man, a little common sense goes a long way here. When you get the aforementioned “medication” from a thing that kills parasites in your koi pond, maybe, just maybe, you should fucking reevaluate your decision-making paradigm there a second friend.

They are listening to a man who says more stupid things in an average tweet than some people say in years. A man who is literally composed of hamburgers and spray tan, a man who laughs in the face of people dying because he wants money.

Think.

I Have Noticed I Have Written Several Times On Why I Hate Grocery Shopping. You Would Think I Would Learn.

So, storytime didn’t happen yesterday. It will today.

First I have to tell you about shopping in the apocalypse.

Don’t get me wrong, it was a well-stocked store considering the circumstances. Except for a single thing, I got everything I wanted to get and even found some treats to buy to calm everyone’s nerves a bit.

What I did not expect, and perhaps this is on me, is the blatant stupidity shown by every single group of people I saw in there. I am not just saying that they did some stupid things, no, these fucking people are going to be plague spreaders, are, well, they already are.

The first thing that got to me was the disparity between who was wearing the masks and who wasn’t. Now, I saw a lot of elderly people wearing them, and according to all I know, if anyone that isn’t medical personnel is supposed to be wearing them, the elderly should as they are the group that is most at risk from this entire thing.

No.

The teenagers were the ones that pissed me off the most. First, they were simply wearing the masks at all. Of course, ALL of them could have been immunocompromised, this is true, but the odds that the two dozen or so I saw wearing the masks, one in a full set of medical scrubs, being in such a category is, and please correct me if I am wrong, statistically very unlikely. You have it hammered into your head, correctly I may add, that the masks should only be used by individuals within a specific group and then you see some jerk-fuck kid walking around buying three baskets full of beef jerky and Mountain Dew. It angers I say, it angers.

Secondly, and vastly more importantly, were the number of people who were ill that were there. I am not a doctor, I am not going to tell you what they did or did not have, what I do know is that a supermarket should not sound like a tuberculosis ward at any point. These people would cough into the wind and it just bugged me. There is a reason I had a panic attack the entirety of the time I was in there.

Lastly was the pharmacy. I had to go and pick up things for my migraines, my seizures, my anxiety, my depression and whatever that little orange pill does. I knew there would be a line, I was okay with that. People were lined up at roughly six-foot intervals and all was well there. The pharmacist and pharmacy tech were disinfecting everything after every customer.

Two people before me, some asshole who maybe came up to my navel barges through, laser sights on, reaches over the woman at the counter and the pharmacist and just yanks the hand sanitizer, the one that the pharmacy has there to, you know, use and shit, and walks off like he was the king of the world. Mind you he was met presently by some employees of some kind who kindly escorted him to parts unknown, but come on man, fuck off with that shit.

I understand the fear and even a little paranoia, but there is no reason this de-evolution of the species has to happen. None.

Maybe I am finally just old and don’t like shit anymore. I don’t know.