Excuse me asshole?

I really thought I was one of ‘those people’ who would never get an ulcer..seriously, I did. I have no friggin problem vocalizing my pissed-offed-ness in a voice so loud, rank and obnoxious that people within a four block radius hear me and get ‘my point’.

Evidently…I was wrong because my father has been able to do the unthinkable…make me sick to my stomach and consequently going to the doc’s tomorrow to inquire as to whether an ulcer is in my immediate future.

Another thing he has done was push my buttons so hard and so often that I think a few of them are stuck in the on position.

So, with all that in mind, when the cunt-haired bitch in the pharmacy at Wally World, on Rosedale, jerked my chain really early this morning by announcing I would have to wait until 5pm to pick up a refill for my rescue inhaler…I almost stroked out…I swear I saw stars before I launched into a tirade that included announcing that I was calling a couple of friends I have over at channel’s 29 and 23 and ripping her and her fellow pharmacy employees a new one live on the five o clock news…about how I had to go to the emergency room which gawd knows is full of death and infections to begin with….because ‘they have rules’ and not being able to breathe doesn’t count with them.

I was told I should of called yesterday to refill the inhaler…even if I didn’t need it or fucking use it yesterday. I was expected to be clairvoyant if I wanted a refill and/or to be able to breathe like everyone else on the fucking planet…

Bear in mind I called the minute they opened. Maybe the 3rd minute…I ain’t sure. Also bear in mind that after talking to three of these ignorant employees, I was primed like no ones business when I finally got the pharmacist, aka the cunt-haired bitch on the horn.

I did not use any four-letter words…but I did use every long, four-or-more syllables, legal-ese word and legal threat I could think of..all with honey dripping off them..,ok that last part is a bit of a lie…but I digress…

Whilst I tore this worthless employee, aka the cunt-haired-one-in-charge a new ass, without being foul-mouthed, I was marching around in the living room like I was on a death march into a warzone…my guns…aka my voice…a-blazing.

In the end, I got one helluva walk accomplish in my living room, and my blood pressure was off the charts. I also got my inhaler within 2 hours of my call…simply unheard of in these here parts people!!

😉 It’s good to be the bitch….sometimes it is, ya know.

This n’ that.

First things first…Sirens Chronicles is closing up shop. It was a fun carnival ride while it lasted. I met many a talented writer and people who still give a shit how the world is run and by whom. I will miss my morning duties, but hey….ch-ch-changes ya know?

Second, I can no longer tolerate BP and their fuckery. Evidently The Big O can’t either. He needs to put his foot up their collective ass and shake em up a bit. I find myself changing the channel when BP and the oil spill are being discussed. Chalk it up to PTSD with regard to the Santa Barbara oil spill and how it affected me as a young adult…seriously, I do not kid on this issue. Dead or dying animals covered in oil are never funny or appropriate.

Third, my dad is doing much better…but he still won’t discuss alternative types of living, and most family-type folks still think he needs to be in a more controlled setting. The differences lie in how much control. Family politics are such a bitch…but then, so am I. ;p

Time to get my sports sunday on…I love this day of the week. 😉

Gone but hopefully not forgotten?

Hello there m’dear reader…I am in San Diego for an unknown length of time.

My 80 year old father is hospitalized and unable to care for himself any longer. So, it falls on my shoulders to figure out wtf to do about him and his life…what is left of it.

I do plan on blogging but I am just too busy with doctors and other people, not to mention trying to keep my cantankerous father inside his hospital room and keeping him from punching out the nurses.

Dementia is a possibility, but the doctors think there is another reason he is delusional and unable to care for himself. To put it in language everyone will understand:

Your body should have five quarts of blood. The Old Fucker was four quarts low, so his body made the decision to supply all his organs, except for his brain.

I do not have internet access at his house, where I am staying since he owns a cat that he loves more than anything. But, I do have access to the intertubes here at the hospital, so during the long-ass hours I am here daily…I will be able to do my usual bitching about all things political.

Say a prayer for the Old Fucker if you do any praying…if not..well…that’s quite alright too.

Until tomorrow…Dusty. 😉

If anyone lives in San Diego, I would love to see you. Let me know and I will figure out a way we can grab a few moments to say hello. It would be a welcome  change for me…believe me.