Two monkeys, a rabbit, and an idiot preserve

    If you’ve been here before you may have already heard the expression “like 2 monkeys fucking a football.”  What it means is there’s a whole lot of activity, and not much accomplishment.  Well, it has defintely been that kind of week.  This may turn into scatalogical drivel in a minute, so you can stop here if you’d like.  You’ve probably learned something already, and the value of that should never be underestimated.

    I missed all but Monday at work.  My daughter’s been running a fever, and gasping, and wheezing, and on our third trip…yep, third, the little shitheel looks up from his stethoscope and proclaims “I think she has pneumonia.”  Now I’m not a physician, but I’m thinking from day one it’s bronchitis or pneumonia, and told him so on the first visit.  This of course has caused a bit of an epiphany.

    I don’t use doctors much.  I find their cost generally outweighs their value, especially since pharmaceuticals are generally readily available on the sidewalk out front.    Having learned over the course of the last couple of months that the system is incredibly rife with profiteering and outright fraud I question the intelligence of getting the government anymore involved.  The hand specialist that has been treating me is raking in (this is an estimate based on actual time spent working on my hand) 18k an hour.  I don’t mind this so much, but had i not had insurance I would’ve stitched the frankenstein finger and let the other bones set on their own.  I doubt I’d be any worse off, though the scarirng may have scared small children; an undervalued gift that.

   Then the pharmacy was the original clusterfuck from hell.  My bad.  I went to walmart.  Generally I find walmart to be sufficient to the need for supplying things like paper, flour, and shampoo.  My experience has been that while semiliterate cretins would serve the rest of us best by being expunged from the gene pool, a decent alternative is putting them to work, and walmart serves this function admirably.  You do not, however, want them filling your prescriptions for you.  I spent an hour trying to assist them in getting it right as they ran hither and yon to no little effect.  I finally just took my prescriptions back, complimented them on their exemplary display of ineptitude, and contemplated as I exited the premises how much I would rather eat shit from the dispenser than go through that again.  I then went to the Walgreens, and for 1.05 more was out the door in 12 minutes.  Another thoroughly satisfied customer.

    The pace de resistance to my week was when I arrived home to find general tso wrapped in the embrace of an entirely to dead Roscoe.  I knew that sooner or later his lechery would be the death of him, but always assumed he would die of a heart attack while pulling his 3 pound furry jackhammer routine on my ankle.  I was a bit put out by it all.  Does this mean that that fucking cat is a better lay than me, or was it a simple case of his number was up?  Whatever the case, I suppose I should be thankful that he gave me something to contemplate other than how deeply I despise the human race at this particular juncture.  I left out politics here, as it would get me back to full roar on the whole despise thing, but I’ll break it out after I chase a couple of rum and cokes with a couple vicodin….kind of a Heath Ledger cocktail.

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3 Responses to Two monkeys, a rabbit, and an idiot preserve

  1. max says:

    I am sorry about Roscoe, Criminy.

  2. me to Max….bigtime….thank you

  3. conundrum says:

    Sorry to hear about Roscoe.

    I hate going in a walmart. The convoluted floor plans to trap customers in a maze, the hire-the-handicapped- Retardo Division and the too few operational cash registers. Why do they install 50 and use only 5?

    I do love the blatant manipulative stupidity of their “Security Scan Sector 13” announcements they make sporatically.

    Congrats on the slick move of tying in the heath ledger angle.

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