Rehab: day two

You’re grateful for the soul-sucking routine; but you’re also grateful for the occasional absence of soul-sucking routine.

And, once so far, Cheerios.

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Scary in the morning

Carol Alt dares you to compare:

Now that takes guts.

Maybe she’ll brighten up after lunch:

Hey, why not?

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Twenty years from now it will be mandatory

So I distrust this, as I distrust all such pronouncements. But for now, the Food Police are boasting of their latest easy bust:

Breaking news: Everything fun causes death.

The FDA, aka, killjoys, has said it is no longer safe to eat raw cookie dough — even if you’re using one of those Pinterest recipes that doesn’t use raw eggs, according to the Indy News. In fact, the administration said in a new consumer update posted Tuesday, it’s not safe to eat raw flour in any form. Not homemade “play dough,” not licking the spoon of brownie batter. Nothing.

The FDA never finds a thing in the world wrong with, for instance, autostart video.

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And the lines are drawn

The first thing I noticed was that the food was much better down here in rehab. So I started comparing notes, and eventually arrived at the truth of the matter: the Happy Healers imposed several dietary restrictions on me, so I got gruel, or worse, diet gruel. In rehab, all I face is a 75-gm cap on carbs.

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Unnecessary blowback

Erin Palette is the founder of Blazing Sword, “a project launched in order to provide firearm familiarization and basic training to anyone in the LGBTQ community who wishes to learn more about gun ownership in the wake of the Orlando tragedy. There are chapters now in nearly every state. And, perhaps inevitably, there are complainers:

What I did not expect — and what I keep getting, and what fucking ASTOUNDS me — is the amount of allegedly friendly fire Blazing Sword has gotten from gun owners. And I don’t mean the typical “How dare you ask us to pay for range fees and a box of ammo” whinge; I mean that there’s a thread over at one of the many JFPO groups ( where several straight people (although not all of them — thank you, Rebecca and Carl) are bitching about how Blazing Sword somehow *discriminates against or hurts heterosexuals.*

This is my mouth hitting the floor.

Really, guys? Really? Because it’s SO difficult for straight people to reach out to other straight people for firearms training? Because gun ownership is a huge stigma within the straight community? Because the very last thing that the gun community needs is diversity across voting demographics?

Let me spell it out for you turds who take offense that your special private club is being invaded (oh, I bet you pitch a shitfit when you hear about women-only classes, don’t you? If you do, then you’re an elitist prick, and if you don’t you’re a fucking hypocrite): If you can’t see the innate moral value in reaching across the political divide to teach ANOTHER HUMAN BEING how to defend themselves when their community is teaching them that’s more virtuous to be a dead sheep than an armed wolf, then how about you ponder the selfish implications of teaching an LGBTQ person how to shoot, and they end up enjoying it, and then maybe, JUST MAYBE. they will end up buying a gun and joining the NRA and start voting pro-Second Amendment?


Goddammit. I have no problem with straight people (everyone in my family is straight, and I love them), but the whiny “OMG teh gheys are getting something I don’t” whinge has to stop. It’s not like ammunition is a rare commodity or that the number of lanes at a shooting range is so small that taking an LGBTQ person will somehow prevent you from shooting. This is taking an extra step to welcome other people into our family, and if you don’t want more shooters because they’re the “Wrong Kind” of shooters, then YOU are what’s wrong with the gun community today.

This screed is, of course, almost infinitely extensible to any activity engaged in by Teh Gheys, or by any group one prefers to disfavor.

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Rehab: day one

Things learned:

  • I did 15 minutes, not all that fast, but still: 15 minutes on a stationary bicycle. You’d think with this much leg power I’d be able to walk or something.
  • Hospital tools for, um, bodily functions are not optimized for one’s street clothes.

Oh, and Dear Google: Delete key. Learn it.

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Gloom, despair and agony

What can I say? I’ve had ’em. In fact, I’ve had ’em just assembling this piece.

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I’ve had worse

And perhaps so have you:

What I ate today:

  • coffee
  • 1 banana
  • apple slices with almond butter
  • 3 carrots w/ tahini (This tahini isn’t raw.)
  • jicama
  • salad w/ mixed lettuce, tomatoes, pine nuts, avocado, white balsamic vinegar, olive oil, nutritional yeast
  • 1 zucchini
  • coffee
  • Bragg’s Organic Apple Cider Vinegar Drink (Acquired taste.)
  • 6 Kalamata olives

She said “coffee” twice.

And some folks are perfectly happy with that. It makes me want an Eskimo Pie.

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Screw you, pay us

It was just a matter of time, right?

First instance of ransomware showing up on campus. Ugh. Someone clicked on an attachment to an e-mail that was apparently claiming “here’s the invoice you asked for” and boom. I guess I better be extra careful (though I almost never open attachments, and only then if it’s something I KNOW I need and if it’s clearly sent by someone I know). Maybe time to send all the vital stuff I’ve not backed up yet to the campus cloud.

I tend to feel like penal colonies should be re-established for folks who commit cybercrimes (and people who do stuff like install skimmers on credit card readers). No, they wouldn’t have to be hellish pits, just places people could not leave and that would prevent them from having access to whatever technology they used to commit their crimes. Surely there are a few islands full of time-share properties people are looking to unload? There could be periodic air-drops of food and whatnot so the people stay alive, just, they have NO internet or cell phone access whatsoever.

Ransomware seems especially bad; Computer Services indicated this one was 128-bit encryption so hard for a white-hat hacker to fix it and of course it fundamentally “bricks” your computer. And if you pay the ransom, you’re just encouraging the goons to do it again. (And who knows where that money goes; it could even buy blocks of C4 for would-be terrorists, for all we know.)

But … but … they mean well, don’t they?

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Rehab: day zero

I think the decision was made when I worked myself into a walker, and then promptly dropped to the floor. (Hey, gravity works.)

Physical therapy, industrial strength. Nobody knows how long it will last.

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Technical difficulties

It is extremely difficult to run this place off a Chromebook; no respectable FTP clients, and Google of course thinks it knows what you want in a keyboard. (They don’t.) I had major problems with the next Vent, because CHROME DOESN’T HAVE A GODDAMN TEXT EDITOR and HALF THEIR APPS ARE FUCKING AD-DISTRIBUTION DEVICES. It will be very short, and mostly video.

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You gotta believe

Well, kinda sorta:

Never could deal with those Nothing Is Real types.

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To my surprise and delight

Who knew?

From the text:

I remember when he took time from his World Tour ’05 to visit me. I can barely believe it’s now over 10 years ago.

He’s been having some spinal issues. Look up “spinal stenosis.” It’s certainly not pretty stuff.

This is a guy who has always been independent. He’s taken his paid days off and now … well, let’s rally around him.

Chaz is not a guy who would ask for help. He’s too proud but just a little will go a long way. Help him with some bills. Let him relax and take the time he needs to get better.

To have such friends…

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Pictorial judgment

I stumbled across this picture over the weekend, and mostly, I think, I was surprised that I was surprised: I mean, there’s a definite trend toward Moar Body Art, and patterned hosiery is coming back into style, so I should expect to see potential clashes like this:

Thigh-highs but not as high as the ink

On one level, I’m thinking “This does not work.” On another, perhaps more elemental, I’m thinking “Rawr.”

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Primary concern

If I’m discharged from the hospital on Tuesday, well, it occurs to me that the polling place for my precinct is on my way home, and if I’m actually able to walk, something I haven’t been in the last few days, I ought to drop in and fill out a ballot. I haven’t missed an election since 1990 or so, and I’d hate to start now.

Before you ask: Early voting started last Thursday; I wasn’t in any condition to leave the house. And earlier on, it would not have occurred to me to ask for an absentee ballot, because I didn’t have any expectations of being absent.

Addendum: Obviously this is not happening.

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Surprisingly, not a Hamburglary

You may grimace just the same:

This was no happy meal.

An argument outside a Sonic Drive-In restaurant in North Carolina turned violent Thursday when a man named Ronald McDonald was shot, police said.

The 35-year-old — who happens to share a name with the mascot of Sonic’s fast-food rival, McDonald’s — was treated for non-life threatening injuries following the shootout in Lumberton, WNCN reported.

In a statement, Lumberton police said McDonald was arguing with 24-year-old Sonic employee Telvin Drummond around 7 p.m. when things turned ugly.

McDonald briefly left the fast-food restaurant, where his wife is a manager. When he returned, things got serious.

Um, Ron, if I may call you Ron: this is not how you Sonic.

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