Anyone ever notice how DuckTales totally ripped off the Indiana Jones font?
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
SSA - Some Stupid Assholes
The Social Security Administration can suck my dick.
As you may already know from previous entries, I was hurt on the job in October. Not gonna rehash it here, but suffice it to say I am completely unable to do the work I normally do. Some days I can't even walk around without agonizing pain. Others I can get around without too much trouble, but even on my best days I can't lift anything weighing more than maybe five pounds. This prevents me from doing even basic daily activities by myself, like carrying a hamper full of laundry downstairs or buying groceries and loading them into my car. (The car that very recently was repossessed because I STILL haven't been paid the money I'm owed.)
As I talked about a few entries back, I applied for SSD (Social Security Disability) due to my inability to work and the failure of the insurance company to pay my worker's compensation. I also applied for unemployment and food stamps because I had absolutely ZERO money coming in. I was approved for food stamps, which is a whopping $102.50 per month and cash assistance in the same amount for a grand total of $205 in monthly income. Not nearly what I need to stay in my house.
Yesterday I received a letter denying me disability on the grounds that I worked as a credit checker for a sales company over five years ago and that job did not require me to lift human beings. They said I should just go back to doing that. Leaving aside the fact that I quit that job because I despised working for a bunch of thieving criminal corporate cocksuckers (alliterative filth - yay), I can think of several reasons why this would not work out.
For one, nobody can get a job in this fucking economy; let alone someone who needs a cane to walk around. No companies are hiring right now. On the contrary, they are all laying off. Even if any were hiring, they would file my application right in the shredder because I'm a walking (or limping) liability in their eyes.
The other glaring problem with that scenario is that I made all of $7.00 an hour at that job, which isn't even half of what I need to pay my bills. Even on the infinitesimal chance I could get some office job that didn't require me to lift anything, it would NEVER pay me the kind of money I'm accustomed to making. The kind of money that would pay my bills. Not even close.
But I was denied disability on the grounds that I am physically able to sit in a chair and type. Well, guess what! So can about 90% of people who are currently receiving disability! What's your answer to that?
Nothing, huh?
I've spent the last ten years having a good 20% of my hard-earned money stolen out of my paycheck (or as they call it "paying into the system") just to have these fucking cocksuckers turn me down in my time of need. Their letter even stated how they know from my medical records that my condition is severe. Just not severe enough for them to give me any of MY money back, apparently.
Well, that's great. All I have to do is limp my ass up to an office park and start filling out applications. "What's that? Experience? Well, I spent a whole summer half a decade ago checking credit scores. Why so long out of the field? Oh, I'm an EMT. Why aren't I applying for an EMT job? Well, I'm disabled. Oh, you need someone who can walk around, huh? Well the SSA says I'm too disabled to be an EMT but not disabled enough to get a red cent back that I paid into the system... oh, you're... not hiring rigt now? Well... thanks anyway."
Yeah, that'll go great. The Social Security Administration can eat shit.
Interesting post script to this story- while retrieving my medical records, they apparently spoke to two doctors who are not treating me (neither doctor they mentioned has seen me since October) and they completely failed to talk to any doctors who ARE treating me. I know this because my PCP filled out a form specifically for the SSA telling them how bad my condition is and that I am under his orders to do no work of any kind. They ignored him, the doctor who discovered my condition and diagnosed me; and went by the word of Dr. Koff who never once examined me or ordered a single diagnostic test of any kind.
Sounds to me like a predetermined denial backed up by getting reports from doctors who have nothing to do with my case/treatment.
I shouldn't have expected anything different from the American government.
Friday, April 8, 2011
My Return to the Nifty Erotic Stories Archive
About eight years ago, Jon and I braved the internet for so called “erotic” stories to tear apart. The results were... mixed. Feeling nostalgic, I looked back at those old stories and the jokes we made at their expense and I decided to go ahead and find a new on to rag on. Little did I know of the horror that awaited me. The horror of... BRUNO THE GORILLA. What follows is the story I found online, complete and unedited, including the disclaimer at the beginning, which is comedy gold in and of itself. My comments will be in italics. Enjoy.
Step 2: Learn how to SPELL “gorilla.”
Really?
Date: Thu, 12 Mar 2009 20:59:16 +0000
From: Pedro Martinez
Subject: BRUNO-THE-GORILLA
DISCLAIMER: This story contains graphic suggestions and descriptions and as such is completely unsuitable for minors and strictly intended as adult entertainment for mature adults who are allowed to view such graphic material according to local pornography laws. The writer's sole intent is to provide the reader with an entertaining reading experience, and the writer cannot be held responsible, liable or accountable for anything closely or remotely associated with this story.
Under no circumstances can the writer have anything to do with his own story, whatsoever.
This story is protected by international copyright laws and may not be copied, distributed, printed or multiplied for any other than strictly personal use without explicit permission of the writer. The writer explicitly permits "The NIFTY Story Archive" (www.nifty.com and mirrors) to add this story to their online story archives.
I’m shaking.
This story may contain passages which some readers may perceive as offensive. This story is strictly fictional and not in any way intended as an encouragement, nor approval of real-world human/animal sex. Hope you enjoy the story.
BRUNO THE GORILLA
by Pedro976
"It is not a problem Simon" I said, as I took the enclosure keys from him. "Only if you are sure though..." persisted Simon. "I have helped you rake out the hay loads of time since I started work here" I reassured him "and if you do not make it to your daughters first night your wife will kick your arse."
So... he’s a Mexican from England?
"Ok" Simon finally relented, "Just remember to stick to the same procedure as I have shown you, it's not usual for a probationary keeper to do the rake-out on his own." "Don't worry" I replied "now bugger of will you."
I like to imagine Speedy Gonzales reading this in an Eeeengleeesh accent.
Simon glanced at his watch and needed no further encouragement, I had spoken to his wife on the phone in the past when she had rang to ask what time Simon was planning on heading home and she sounded like a tough woman if you pissed her of.
“Peeeeesed her off. Sí, señor.”
Simon had worked at the zoo for over 20 years and it was his life, he often worked after his contracted hours and his lateness seemed to get him into lots of trouble with his wife. Tonight was his daughters first night as the lead role in the "Taming of the Shrew" and Simon would not have lived to tell the tale if he had missed it.
¡Andale, andale! ¡Arriba! ...mate!
I had started at the zoo only 5 weeks previous after getting a probationary position as a junior zoo keeper. All positions were on a probationary period to start because until you actually started working with the animals no one could tell whether you were going to be any good at it.
Plus, they don’t want to give you health benefits right away in case you get caught fucking the animals 5 weeks in.
Luckily I seemed to have a knack for getting stuck in and my fearlessness around animals had helped me make a good impression. I needed to make one as well because I really needed a job that was worth doing. I had flunked school and turned down the idea of going to college, much to my parents annoyance,
I like how he flunks out of high school, yet he’s in a position to “turn down” colleges who are apparently clamoring for this loser to attend their school.
and from the age of 16 I had done the rounds in the local supermarkets and shops. I had hated every minute of those mundane jobs. I had always been good around animals and as soon as I hit 18 and got my own car I applied for the job at the zoo and got lucky. It was hard work but I loved it and Simon, my mentor, was a great guy who knew so much about the animals.
He taught me how to put peanut butter on my balls and have my dog lick it off.
We were on the late shift and all the other zoo staff had gone home, apart from Danny the night watchman who certainly lived up to his job title, from what I had seen he spent all night watching, the problem was that he didnt watch the zoo, he watched martial arts DVD's in the security hut. The entire zoo could have been sucked into a black hole and I doubt he would have noticed.
This is a rolled-up magazine...
I heard Simon's car leaving and grabbed the rake from the tools hanger and put it into the wheelbarrow. The last job of the day was raking out the indoor area of Bruno's enclosure. Bruno was a huge male Silverback gorrilla. He had his own pen away from the other gorrillas because he was too aggressive towards them. His huge muscular frame dwarfed the other males and Simon had told me that he had caused some real damage in the fights that had taken place before he was isolated.
Step 1: Come up with an idea for a story about a gorilla.
Step 2: Learn how to SPELL “gorilla.”
Step 3: Write the story.
I wandered down to his enclosure and went into the indoor viewing area. Bruno was not in the inside area of his enclosure and so must have been outside. The two areas were connected by a swing door that could be locked to keep Bruno in one particular area when the keepers needed to get access. I locked the swing door using the switch in the control box at the side of the enclsoure so that Bruno would not be able to get in whilst I was doing the raking out. I then unlocked and opened the door up into his cage and went inside to begin my work. I had always done the rake out with Simon and had not realised just how much work it was for one person alone. After about 10 minutes I was sweating with the exertion and pulled of my T-shirt in order to try and keep cool. The air on my soft skin gave me some relief. Quite suddenly the whole enclosure was plunged into darkness. # "Hey" I shouted out, "who turned out the lights."
Excuse me, Sir, did you order the cliché?
I stood still for the moment waiting for my eyes to become accustomed to the dark and thinking that I would have to grope my way back out of the cage and go and find out what was happening. Before I could make a move all the lights came back on. I decided that it must have been another power surge that had caused the brief power cut. A new generator had been installed just a few days earlier and it had been causing these types of problems. I hoped that it would not happen again becuase I had about 20 minutes of work left to do and I wanted to get home.
Hopefully the power failure was Wayne Knight shutting the T-Rex fence off.
I suddenly got the feeling that I was being watched. I tried to shake it of,
OFF! It’s OFF, you asshole!
but instinctively I turned around to glance behind me at the swing door to the outside part of the enclsoure. I didnt expect to see anything but forze with shock when I did. Bruno was less then 40 feet away from me.
Uze the forze, Pedro.
Stood perfectly still on all fours looking straight at me. He was huge, his thick proud head rested on huge broad shoulders, his arms were as thick as my entire body and his chest was a great mass of muscular sinew.
My cock stiffened...
I could hear his heavy breathing now, we stood staring at each other. I glanced a look at the entrance to the cage, judging if I could make it in time before Bruno could get to me. It was too far away. Suddenly Bruno raised himself up onto his back legs. He beat his chest once with one of his massive fists, the smack of his knuckles against his rock hard pecs echoed around the cage.
Really?
It was then that I noticed between his legs was a solid shaft of fully erect cock, great veins working their way around the rock hard shaft up to the bulging head that was glistening wet with Gorilla pre-cum.
What?
I went for it, sprinting towards the exit and safety, but it was never going to happen. Bruno moved like lightning placing himself between me and my freedom. I stopped dead in my trackes and this time I was only a hands reach away from him. He reared up again making loud deep 'ohhing' noises and I turned to run, stumbling and falling onto my front. I tried to get up but before I could I saw his two great hands planted down either side of me, Bruno had moved over the top of me so that I was laying face down underneath him. I kept totally still, forzen by fear. I felt Bruno's hot breath on the back of my neck, he put his face right down next to mine sniffing me. My initial panic started to calm as I realised that Bruno was not immeadiately going to tear me limb from limb. I also felt a spark of excitment feeling his hot breath against my skin, I was getting hard and felt my cock growing against the inside of my overalls, amazing considering the perilous position I was in.
I knew it. Goddamn it.
Bruno made a deep grunting noise, nuzzling his nose against my hair, then he reared up on his back legs and beat his chest. I tried to crawl up slowly but as soon as I began to move Bruno brought his hand down onto my back pressing me against the floor. His hand then pulled at my overall bottoms tearing them down and revealing my smooth bubble butt.
WHAT?
"Shit" I thought, "fuck, whats happening?"
Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking, too!
I tried to crawl away managing to turn onto my front but sensing my intention Bruno brought his hand back and pushed down on my chest pinning me once more onto the floor. I was no match for his strength and did not even try to struggle.
“Oh, no. Please don’t. Please don’t take your delicious gorilla cock and fuck my ass. Please.”
I was totally naked pinned down by this huge animal. His great bulging biceps covered in soft fur but still visible and his massive pectorial muscle and rock hard nipples.
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Bruno moved closer, lowering himself onto me and splitting my legs wide,
Ouch.
his huge cock searching for its opening whilst his chest pressed against mine and his face came close to mine. My vision exploded with white stars as his meat forced my tight man cunt open and filled my gut.
That’s it. I’m out.
Bruno let out a grunt and I screamed out in pain. My noise seemed to turn Bruno on even more and I felt his cock swell inside me. He started to pump my cunt hard,grunting as he drove deeper inside me. I put my hands around the back of his shoulders holding his fur in my hands.
You don’t HAVE a cunt. You ARE a cunt.
Bruno drove on fucking me hard, I was moaning out loud as he bred me. His huge balls were banging against the entrance to my hole. Bruno drove harder and then suddenly reared up releasing his thick seed deep inside me. I cummed at the same time, the tightness of Bruno's stomach against my own cock had driven me over the edge.
“I cummed,” huh? Judging by the education level of the author, I’m starting to surmise that this is not fiction. This was dictated as a police report.
Bruno slowed down to a stop. His cock throbbing inside me. He started to lick my face and his large rough tounge entered my mouth as I opened my lips to receive him.
See? It’s ROMANTIC. Whoooolllllgggrrraaggghhhh!
Bruno was not done and he began to drive into me again, the noise of his cum sloshing inside me as he pounded his boy hard. His tounge owned my mouth, forcing itself deep into my thoart. He was cumming again now, I could feel the hotness inside me, dribbling out of my cunt down his rock hard shaft. Bruno's pace never slowed he ground into me harder and harder, I sucked on his tounge grabbing at his fur as he nailed me onto the floor. He pulled out of me and placed his huge meat onto my face as his dirty cock spurted more gorrilla juice into my mouth and he let out a great roar expressing his total dominance over me.
Gorillas don’t do this. The author only wishes they did.
I rolled away, utterly exhausted, my arse still wide and throbing. In a daze I stumbled half bent towards the exit of the cage. But Bruno had not finished with his mate yet and I felt his huge arms encircling my stomach and his pulsing biceps holding me against his iron chest as his cock entered me again.
What the fuck, Bruno? Take a break, will ya?
I was lifted totally of the ground as he fucked me up hard. His other hand reaching around and over my face and neck. In and out his penis drove, lifting me higher with the force of his thrusts. The his cum spurted up into my guts as I was imapled on his shaft.
His 1/4 inch silverback shaft.
Bruno tossed me onto the floor where I had laid the fresh hay and moved over the top of me, entering my cunt again
Stop it. Stop referring to your hairy mexican asshole as your “cunt” you shit-shoveling dropout.
and pumping hard as he reached another orgasm, grunting wild guttaral noises and breeding me with another hard spurt of gorrilla spunk.
If I ever meet the author of this, I’m going to punch him in the face.
He withdrew and rubeed his meat over my face again, the fresh cum mixing with the old as I was forced to lick he blubus shaft clean. The head entering my mouth and forcing it wide as I sucked and gagged.
Can anyone define “blubus” for me? How about rubeed?
I pulled myself up and tried again to leave. Bruno roared out his displeasure and I heard him moving back towards me. I stopped and turned around.
He entered my man cunt and cummed again!
I could see the animal lust in his eyes and submissively I laid on my back and lifted my legs. Bruno was angry that his cunt had dared to try and get away for a second time and entered me hard.
I don’t believe this.
All his mighty strength tore my arse open as he taught me that I was his to fuck whenever he wanted. His hand was around my throat and another over my face and mouth as he forced his cock in as far as it could go.
All four millimeters of it.
My arse was owned by this gorrilla and I was fucked into oblivion. Bruno pulled out again letting his released cum trickle out of me. I realised that I had started to cry a little at my total violation.
That makes two of us.
Bruno swept me up against his chest and jumped up onto the climbing platforms that lined the sides of the enclosure and he worked his way up to the highest point where he usually slept. My tears proved a huge turn on for my owner, and as he pressed me onto the hay that covered the platform he tore me open again and pistoned into me. I was making deep animal grunts now as his cock turned my cunt red raw. With great deep thrusts Bruno once more bred his boy. It was getting hard now for Bruno to cum and he had to work harder to climax, smacking into me harder and harder as he sought his release. Over and over he fucked me, my face pressed against his huge pecs. His vein lined cock suddenly pulsed and Bruno pulled out and shot his load over my chest and face, thick white spunk in my hair and mouth.
Really, how could he have any left?
In a state of brief sanity as Bruno rubbed his meat over my face I caught site of my watch. It was not yet 11pm and there was at least another 7 hrs before anyone would come in to work. I wondered what would happen to me but my thoughts were interrupted. Bruno had picked me up and was once more lowering my gaping cunt onto his stiff quivering pole. I had no escape at all and surrendered to my Gorrilla master, wanting his seed, needing it. "Fuck me" I grunted. "Fuck me".
END
Hope you liked it, I appreciate comments so please feel free to email. pedro976@hotmail.co.uk
You know what? That’s a great idea. Everyone, please feel free to write to Pedro and tell him what we thought of his story. I know I will be, when I’m done rubbing bleach on my corneas.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Koyaanisqatsi
A lot of people who know me but aren’t in my immediate circle of friends have only gotten snippets of information about what happened to me in October and the ensuing trouble with my employer’s insurance company. I decided to write this to clarify exactly what has happened so that if you read or hear anything about it in the future on my Facebook or elsewhere, you’ll have a frame of reference. For the sake of simplicity, throughout this article I will be referring to my employer’s risk management supervisor as simply “my employer” because his function is (or was) to be the go-between for me and the company. Everything in this story is exactly how it happened, without exaggeration.
I: Status Post Injury
On October 15th, 2010, near the end of my shift as an EMT for a private ambulance company, I transported a patient from a nursing facility to a hospital. After lifting the patient from our stretcher to an ER bed, I began to experience a very harsh pain in my lower back. Figuring I simply pulled a muscle, I tried to walk it off, take some ibuprofen (which I kept with me for headaches) and get on with my work.
My partner was driving our rig to the gas station while I finished my report on the patient’s care. The pain in my back began to worsen, spreading down both of my legs. I felt flush and began to sweat. I called the office and informed them of what had just happened. If I have been seriously hurt, I figured, it is best to inform them immediately. My partner was given instruction to take me to a local ER for treatment.
In the emergency room, I was placed in a wheelchair and taken to a room for examination. By this time, I was unable to stand or walk under my own power. My employer sent one of my co-workers to the hospital to stay with me for the course of my treatment there. Not out of concern for my well-being, mind you, but to ensure that I submitted to a urinalysis drug/alcohol test. My treating doctor was flabbergasted as to why they would want this, as I had not been involved in a motor vehicle accident with one of the company’s trucks, but had rather hurt myself lifting a patient. The doctor would not perform the drug test on my co-worker’s say-so, and had my employer called the ER and explain to him why they wanted it. As I do not use drugs and do not drink on the job, I had no problem submitting to the test, although I did agree with the doctor’s view that it was inappropriate of my employer to order this, for reasons already stated.
The doctor ordered an X-ray and the urinalysis. After both were performed, he came back with the results which did not show anything abnormal, so he gave me some pain killers, some muscle relaxants and told me that it was probably just a severe muscle strain. I was ordered to follow up with my work doctor and sent home. I informed my employer of this via e-mail. My employer responded with my appointment date and time with the work doctor.
Three days later, 10/18/10, was my first appointment with the work doctor, Richard Koff M.D. He did not examine me himself. rather, a student doctor took my history and examined me, then Koff came in and gave me a doorway diagnosis of muscle strain. He prescribed some more muscle relaxants (as the ones I got from the hospital made me too tired) and sent me on my way. I was to follow up with him a few days later. I informed my employer of this via e-mail.
A few days later, (10/22/10 to be exact), I had my follow up appointment with Dr. Koff. He asked me if I was feeling any better. I told him that I was not, and in fact that I felt even worse than I had a few days earlier. He told me that this would pass, and that he was sending me back to work the next week- light-duty for three days and then a return to full duty. I said to him, “If next week I still can’t get around without this pain, will you order an MRI then?” He said yes.
Once again, I informed my employer of the doctor’s orders via e-mail and got no response. I was not offered light duty, or any work at all. I was not acknowledged by my employer whatsoever.
The next week, I had experienced no improvement in my condition, so I went back to see Dr. Koff again on 10/28/10. I explained that I still could not get around without severe pain and that I wanted something done. Again I requested that he order an MRI so we could find out what the problem was. This time, he refused to order an MRI, stating that his reason was because they might not get paid for performing it if they don’t find anything. By this point, I came right out and said, “I don’t give a shit who gets paid for what. I want to know why I’m constantly in agonizing pain.” Again he refused to order the MRI that he told me last week he would order, and instead referred me to an orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Anthony Salem. (What he thought an orthopedic surgeon would do with no MRI is beyond me.) Dr. Koff rushed me out of his office and back to the reception area where he told the girls to get me an appointment with Dr. Salem. The receptionists attempted to get me the appointment, but were unable to for two reasons:
1.) Dr. Salem refused to see me without a referral from my primary doctor (who was not involved in this case at all.)
2.) The receptionists were unable to provide Dr. Salem’s office with the information they wanted because somehow in the six days since my last visit there, they managed to LOSE my fucking FILE in an office the size of a coat closet.
I was sent home with no follow-up appointment, no pain killers, no instructions and no idea what to do next. I called my claims adjuster at my employer’s insurance company and told her what was going on. She said that I couldn’t see Dr. Salem anyway, because she didn’t know if he was on the panel of “approved” doctors that I could see. She said she would find out whether he was or not and that either she or my employer would call me back with that information.
After a week, I had not heard from either of them, so I started calling her back. After a week of phone calls, I got my nurse case manager on the phone and she gave me my adjuster’s e-mail address. Once I e-mailed my adjuster, she responded fairly quickly and told me that she requested my medical information from Dr. Koff’s office two weeks ago and had still not received it. She proceeded to tell me to go ahead and call Dr. Salem’s office up and make the appointment anyway, because she hadn’t found out if he was a panel doctor or not, but I needed to continue treatment regardless. She also told me to fax her any medical bills pertaining to my treatment so she could forward them to the billing department and get them paid. I followed her instructions to the letter. As of today, 3/2/11, the X-ray I got on 10/15/10 has still not been paid for.
II: Salem Trials
Per my adjuster’s instructions, I called Dr. Salem’s office and left them a voice mail stating that I would like to set up an appointment.
On 11/15/10, after three weeks of ignoring me, my employer decided to call me back- not regarding my care, of course- but because he needed me to be deposed downtown for a completely unrelated case. The next day, I went downtown, spent my own money on parking (for which my employer only partially reimbursed me) and was deposed for the aforementioned case. Now face to face with me, my employer could no longer pretend I didn’t exist, so I demanded that something be done about my treatment. He assured me that he would get me the appointment with Dr. Salem. The next day, I received a phone call from Dr. Koff’s receptionist telling me that my employer got me an appointment. I replied, “with Dr. Salem?”
“No,” she said, sounding confused. “With Dr. Koff.”
So the next day, (11/18/10), there I am back in Dr. Koff’s office. He came in to the room and said “What are you doing here? I sent you to Dr. Salem.” I explained the whole story to him. He said, “OK, excuse me for a minute.” He left me alone in the examination room for about fifteen minutes. Finally, he reappeared and informed me that he just made me an appointment with Dr. Salem for that very day and that I could go right over. Dr. Koff further stated that he also spoke to my employer and that my employer would take care of getting Dr. Salem put on the panel, so that would no longer be an issue.
Back out in the reception area, I was getting ready to head over to Dr. Salem’s office when Dr. Koff’s receptionist stopped me. She told me that I shouldn’t go right over to see him, but rather that I should first go home and wait for a call back from them notifying me that he had been put on the panel and that I could see him. The reason for this, she explained, is that they would hate to have me drive all the way over to see him and be told that he won’t see me until he’s on the panel.
I asked her, “Are you sure about this? Does Dr. Koff know that this is what’s happening, because this is pretty much how my last appointment here ended.” She assured me that Dr. Koff knew exactly what was going on and told me to go ahead home and wait for the call.
I received no call back that day. The next morning, a Friday, I called Dr. Koff’s office and asked the receptionist if it was taken care of yet. She said that they had not received a call yet.
The following week, having received no call back, I started ringing my nurse case manager, because she told me to call her about any problems with my treatment. She said that she could do nothing about getting Dr. Salem put on the panel, but that she finally received the medical records from Dr. Koff. She said that Dr. Koff “forgot” to address the status of my ability to work in his notes. Since my ability to work (or lack thereof) is at the very heart of the matter, she contacted his office and they faxed her a note from Dr. Koff stating that I was “out of work until seen by an orthopedist.”
After this, no one responded to any of my calls or e-mails until the following week because of the Thanksgiving holiday. The day after Thanksgiving, (11/26/10) I received a letter from the insurance company dated 10/27/10, which stated that they have received notification of my injury and listed the names of my nurse case manager and adjuster. Gee, thanks.
III: Lost Contacts
On 12/1/10, just after 10:30am, I received a voice mail from another adjuster at my employer’s insurance company, who said that he would be taking over my case from my former adjuster and to call him because he had some questions, but to call back before noon, because he would be leaving early that day. I got the message and called back around 10:45am. I got his voice mail, so I left him a message. After eleven, I tried him a few more times, every fifteen minutes or so, in an attempt to catch him before noon as he requested. Around noon, I made my last call and I decided to go ahead and leave a second message, saying that I tried to get him but we missed each other and that we would talk later.
Since I couldn’t get my new adjuster on the phone, I decided to call my employer and see what the hell was going on with Dr. Salem. I asked my employer, “What’s the story? Is he on the panel, yet? Can I go see him now?” After a long pause, my employer said, “Uh... I was under the impression that you were cleared to go back to work.”
“Since when?” I asked. “Who said I was cleared for work? Last week, Dr. Koff told me that you were getting Salem put on the panel so I could go see him! What changed since then?”
“Uh... Gimme a couple hours and I’ll call you back,” my employer said, and hung up. I never heard from him again.
I fired off an e-mail to my nurse case manager telling her about all of this. She wrote back that “all adjusters are busy,” and to “just call once a day.” I wrote back to her once more, asking for my new adjuster’s e-mail address, since my old adjuster was easier to reach in that manner. She never responded to that e-mail. I never heard from her again.
Two days later, my new adjuster returned my calls. Right off the bat, this JERK-OFF tried to reprimand me for “tying up” his voice mail box with all two of my messages. I told him that I was only trying to catch him before he left the office at noon as he requested, so he changed the subject and started badgering me about my medical history and saying shit like, “You’d better be completely honest about everything! We’re gonna find out if you’re lying about anything!” Just RANTING like fucking maniac. Hostile language. Confrontational tone of voice. Totally uncalled-for, jerk-off behavior. He asked me when I was born. I told him. He replied, “You’re telling me that you’re 27 years old and you’ve NEVER been treated for a back injury before now?”
“Yeah, that’s about the size of it,” I told him. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’m sure my primary doctor has the medical records to prove it.”
He asked me if I’d ever received worker’s compensation before. I began to say no, but then I remembered that had been out on worker’s compensation for a short two or three week span several years ago when I was diagnosed with cervical strain (whiplash) after an incident at another job. He said, “OH! You remember THAT now?!” I laughed in disbelief. I couldn’t believe how fucking crazy this guy was. Well, that just set him off.
He started hollering at me and asking me what I found so funny, like he was fucking Pesci in Goodfellas. I told him that nothing about this was funny and that I was laughing out of sheer frustration and exhaustion. I told him that I was laughing in disbelief at the entire situation, because I had been in severe pain for almost two months with no relief and that I was extremely anxious. This finally calmed the sociopath down and he started talking like a normal human being. I quickly found a way to end the conversation got off the phone.
At this point, I have been in agonizing pain for over a month and-a-half, I have been out of work for the same amount of time, and I have not received a cent in compensation. Now my employer is having imaginary conversations with a doctor who won’t treat me and I’m getting yelled at by some fucking asshole insurance adjuster in Florida who’s probably taking his frustration out on me because of his severely inadequate genitalia.
Time to get a lawyer.
IV: Real Treatment
In hindsight, I can see now that I should have consulted with a lawyer much earlier, but I had never been in a situation like this before and thought I was doing the right thing by seeing the work doctor and just following orders.
In mid-December, I hired a lawyer who specializes in worker’s compensation cases and he let me in on a few secrets. For starters, I could go see any goddamn doctor I wanted to. Goodbye Dr. Koff! Second of all, I was under no obligation whatsoever to talk to my jerk-off adjuster, ever. That’s two problems gone. Things were already looking up.
I was already planning to change my primary doctor to my girlfriend’s, because she recommended him and his office very highly. My primary used to be the same woman my parents saw, but I didn’t care much for the way she worked, so I made the change and set up an appointment with my new primary. I couldn’t get an appointment with him until after the holidays, but that wasn’t really surprising, so I settled for my mid-January appointment. Meanwhile, my lawyer filed a claim petition (an official request for the insurance company to pay me what it owes me) and a penalty petition (which is a petition for them to pay interest penalties since they were supposed to send me lost-time wages a good long time ago.)
My new doctor examined me, ordered an MRI (Callooh Callay!) and scheduled me for some physical therapy. I got right over to the hospital that week and got my MRI done. The following weeks, I began physical therapy, which was extremely painful and difficult, but I expected that. Meanwhile, my lawyer informed me that the insurance company was now trying to dispute my disability. They’re not disputing the fact that I am injured- just that I am unable to work. Right.
Now I haven’t been paid in over four months, I can’t afford food, rent, my car payment or anything else, and now I find out that this case is going to litigation, which means it will definitely be several MORE months before I see the money these pricks owe me. I asked my lawyer if there is anything I could do as far as income. He told me that there are no easy answers for this, because there is no safety net in the system for someone in my position, but that I could do any light-duty work that my doctor approved.
My follow-up doctor’s appointment had to be canceled because it was the day of a very large snowstorm, so I went back to see him about two weeks after we had planned, on 2/22/11. He had not received the results from the MRI for some reason, so he got the hospital on the phone and had them fax the report right over. He came back into the room and told me that I had three herniated discs. He ordered me to stop physical therapy immediately and told me that I am to perform absolutely NO physical labor of any kind. No stretching, bending, pushing, pulling, lifting. Nothing. He referred me to a neurosurgeon, who would decide the next medical course of action.
Now my situation is this:
A.) I am under medical orders not to do any work. This means that I can not get a light-duty job. This means no income.
B.) The insurance company that is SUPPOSED to be supporting me while I’m disabled is trying their damnedest not to do their job. This means no income.
C.) I am fucked.
I asked my lawyer if I could apply for SSI disability, since I am medically unable to work. He said that I could and should do whatever I must to survive until this case is settled, (short, I assume, of armed robbery) so I went online and filed for disability and SNAP, which is what they’re calling food stamps this month. Last week, I received a letter from my employer stating that they are cutting off my main health insurance, since I am not working and therefore not paying toward the premium. As a result of this, I also filed for Medicare. The welfare office mailed me a form to have my doctor fill out, stating that I am medically unable to work and therefore a potential candidate for disability. When I took it to him to fill out, he also referred me to another doctor so I could get an EMG prior to my visit to the surgeon. That way the surgeon will know where nerves are being compressed and will therefore be able to make a more informed decision on my treatment.
That brings us up to today. Next week is my EMG, followed by a visit to the neurosurgeon to see if he wants to stick needles in my back or just slice it open and rearrange shit. Lovely. On top of this, my employer’s insurance company now wants me to go see their surgeon, whose job it is to find a way to disagree with my doctor’s diagnosis.
In the meantime, I have to hope that I am approved for disability, because if I am not, I will be homeless by the end of the month.
I: Status Post Injury
On October 15th, 2010, near the end of my shift as an EMT for a private ambulance company, I transported a patient from a nursing facility to a hospital. After lifting the patient from our stretcher to an ER bed, I began to experience a very harsh pain in my lower back. Figuring I simply pulled a muscle, I tried to walk it off, take some ibuprofen (which I kept with me for headaches) and get on with my work.
My partner was driving our rig to the gas station while I finished my report on the patient’s care. The pain in my back began to worsen, spreading down both of my legs. I felt flush and began to sweat. I called the office and informed them of what had just happened. If I have been seriously hurt, I figured, it is best to inform them immediately. My partner was given instruction to take me to a local ER for treatment.
In the emergency room, I was placed in a wheelchair and taken to a room for examination. By this time, I was unable to stand or walk under my own power. My employer sent one of my co-workers to the hospital to stay with me for the course of my treatment there. Not out of concern for my well-being, mind you, but to ensure that I submitted to a urinalysis drug/alcohol test. My treating doctor was flabbergasted as to why they would want this, as I had not been involved in a motor vehicle accident with one of the company’s trucks, but had rather hurt myself lifting a patient. The doctor would not perform the drug test on my co-worker’s say-so, and had my employer called the ER and explain to him why they wanted it. As I do not use drugs and do not drink on the job, I had no problem submitting to the test, although I did agree with the doctor’s view that it was inappropriate of my employer to order this, for reasons already stated.
The doctor ordered an X-ray and the urinalysis. After both were performed, he came back with the results which did not show anything abnormal, so he gave me some pain killers, some muscle relaxants and told me that it was probably just a severe muscle strain. I was ordered to follow up with my work doctor and sent home. I informed my employer of this via e-mail. My employer responded with my appointment date and time with the work doctor.
Three days later, 10/18/10, was my first appointment with the work doctor, Richard Koff M.D. He did not examine me himself. rather, a student doctor took my history and examined me, then Koff came in and gave me a doorway diagnosis of muscle strain. He prescribed some more muscle relaxants (as the ones I got from the hospital made me too tired) and sent me on my way. I was to follow up with him a few days later. I informed my employer of this via e-mail.
A few days later, (10/22/10 to be exact), I had my follow up appointment with Dr. Koff. He asked me if I was feeling any better. I told him that I was not, and in fact that I felt even worse than I had a few days earlier. He told me that this would pass, and that he was sending me back to work the next week- light-duty for three days and then a return to full duty. I said to him, “If next week I still can’t get around without this pain, will you order an MRI then?” He said yes.
Once again, I informed my employer of the doctor’s orders via e-mail and got no response. I was not offered light duty, or any work at all. I was not acknowledged by my employer whatsoever.
The next week, I had experienced no improvement in my condition, so I went back to see Dr. Koff again on 10/28/10. I explained that I still could not get around without severe pain and that I wanted something done. Again I requested that he order an MRI so we could find out what the problem was. This time, he refused to order an MRI, stating that his reason was because they might not get paid for performing it if they don’t find anything. By this point, I came right out and said, “I don’t give a shit who gets paid for what. I want to know why I’m constantly in agonizing pain.” Again he refused to order the MRI that he told me last week he would order, and instead referred me to an orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Anthony Salem. (What he thought an orthopedic surgeon would do with no MRI is beyond me.) Dr. Koff rushed me out of his office and back to the reception area where he told the girls to get me an appointment with Dr. Salem. The receptionists attempted to get me the appointment, but were unable to for two reasons:
1.) Dr. Salem refused to see me without a referral from my primary doctor (who was not involved in this case at all.)
2.) The receptionists were unable to provide Dr. Salem’s office with the information they wanted because somehow in the six days since my last visit there, they managed to LOSE my fucking FILE in an office the size of a coat closet.
I was sent home with no follow-up appointment, no pain killers, no instructions and no idea what to do next. I called my claims adjuster at my employer’s insurance company and told her what was going on. She said that I couldn’t see Dr. Salem anyway, because she didn’t know if he was on the panel of “approved” doctors that I could see. She said she would find out whether he was or not and that either she or my employer would call me back with that information.
After a week, I had not heard from either of them, so I started calling her back. After a week of phone calls, I got my nurse case manager on the phone and she gave me my adjuster’s e-mail address. Once I e-mailed my adjuster, she responded fairly quickly and told me that she requested my medical information from Dr. Koff’s office two weeks ago and had still not received it. She proceeded to tell me to go ahead and call Dr. Salem’s office up and make the appointment anyway, because she hadn’t found out if he was a panel doctor or not, but I needed to continue treatment regardless. She also told me to fax her any medical bills pertaining to my treatment so she could forward them to the billing department and get them paid. I followed her instructions to the letter. As of today, 3/2/11, the X-ray I got on 10/15/10 has still not been paid for.
II: Salem Trials
Per my adjuster’s instructions, I called Dr. Salem’s office and left them a voice mail stating that I would like to set up an appointment.
On 11/15/10, after three weeks of ignoring me, my employer decided to call me back- not regarding my care, of course- but because he needed me to be deposed downtown for a completely unrelated case. The next day, I went downtown, spent my own money on parking (for which my employer only partially reimbursed me) and was deposed for the aforementioned case. Now face to face with me, my employer could no longer pretend I didn’t exist, so I demanded that something be done about my treatment. He assured me that he would get me the appointment with Dr. Salem. The next day, I received a phone call from Dr. Koff’s receptionist telling me that my employer got me an appointment. I replied, “with Dr. Salem?”
“No,” she said, sounding confused. “With Dr. Koff.”
So the next day, (11/18/10), there I am back in Dr. Koff’s office. He came in to the room and said “What are you doing here? I sent you to Dr. Salem.” I explained the whole story to him. He said, “OK, excuse me for a minute.” He left me alone in the examination room for about fifteen minutes. Finally, he reappeared and informed me that he just made me an appointment with Dr. Salem for that very day and that I could go right over. Dr. Koff further stated that he also spoke to my employer and that my employer would take care of getting Dr. Salem put on the panel, so that would no longer be an issue.
Back out in the reception area, I was getting ready to head over to Dr. Salem’s office when Dr. Koff’s receptionist stopped me. She told me that I shouldn’t go right over to see him, but rather that I should first go home and wait for a call back from them notifying me that he had been put on the panel and that I could see him. The reason for this, she explained, is that they would hate to have me drive all the way over to see him and be told that he won’t see me until he’s on the panel.
I asked her, “Are you sure about this? Does Dr. Koff know that this is what’s happening, because this is pretty much how my last appointment here ended.” She assured me that Dr. Koff knew exactly what was going on and told me to go ahead home and wait for the call.
I received no call back that day. The next morning, a Friday, I called Dr. Koff’s office and asked the receptionist if it was taken care of yet. She said that they had not received a call yet.
The following week, having received no call back, I started ringing my nurse case manager, because she told me to call her about any problems with my treatment. She said that she could do nothing about getting Dr. Salem put on the panel, but that she finally received the medical records from Dr. Koff. She said that Dr. Koff “forgot” to address the status of my ability to work in his notes. Since my ability to work (or lack thereof) is at the very heart of the matter, she contacted his office and they faxed her a note from Dr. Koff stating that I was “out of work until seen by an orthopedist.”
After this, no one responded to any of my calls or e-mails until the following week because of the Thanksgiving holiday. The day after Thanksgiving, (11/26/10) I received a letter from the insurance company dated 10/27/10, which stated that they have received notification of my injury and listed the names of my nurse case manager and adjuster. Gee, thanks.
III: Lost Contacts
On 12/1/10, just after 10:30am, I received a voice mail from another adjuster at my employer’s insurance company, who said that he would be taking over my case from my former adjuster and to call him because he had some questions, but to call back before noon, because he would be leaving early that day. I got the message and called back around 10:45am. I got his voice mail, so I left him a message. After eleven, I tried him a few more times, every fifteen minutes or so, in an attempt to catch him before noon as he requested. Around noon, I made my last call and I decided to go ahead and leave a second message, saying that I tried to get him but we missed each other and that we would talk later.
Since I couldn’t get my new adjuster on the phone, I decided to call my employer and see what the hell was going on with Dr. Salem. I asked my employer, “What’s the story? Is he on the panel, yet? Can I go see him now?” After a long pause, my employer said, “Uh... I was under the impression that you were cleared to go back to work.”
“Since when?” I asked. “Who said I was cleared for work? Last week, Dr. Koff told me that you were getting Salem put on the panel so I could go see him! What changed since then?”
“Uh... Gimme a couple hours and I’ll call you back,” my employer said, and hung up. I never heard from him again.
I fired off an e-mail to my nurse case manager telling her about all of this. She wrote back that “all adjusters are busy,” and to “just call once a day.” I wrote back to her once more, asking for my new adjuster’s e-mail address, since my old adjuster was easier to reach in that manner. She never responded to that e-mail. I never heard from her again.
Two days later, my new adjuster returned my calls. Right off the bat, this JERK-OFF tried to reprimand me for “tying up” his voice mail box with all two of my messages. I told him that I was only trying to catch him before he left the office at noon as he requested, so he changed the subject and started badgering me about my medical history and saying shit like, “You’d better be completely honest about everything! We’re gonna find out if you’re lying about anything!” Just RANTING like fucking maniac. Hostile language. Confrontational tone of voice. Totally uncalled-for, jerk-off behavior. He asked me when I was born. I told him. He replied, “You’re telling me that you’re 27 years old and you’ve NEVER been treated for a back injury before now?”
“Yeah, that’s about the size of it,” I told him. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’m sure my primary doctor has the medical records to prove it.”
He asked me if I’d ever received worker’s compensation before. I began to say no, but then I remembered that had been out on worker’s compensation for a short two or three week span several years ago when I was diagnosed with cervical strain (whiplash) after an incident at another job. He said, “OH! You remember THAT now?!” I laughed in disbelief. I couldn’t believe how fucking crazy this guy was. Well, that just set him off.
He started hollering at me and asking me what I found so funny, like he was fucking Pesci in Goodfellas. I told him that nothing about this was funny and that I was laughing out of sheer frustration and exhaustion. I told him that I was laughing in disbelief at the entire situation, because I had been in severe pain for almost two months with no relief and that I was extremely anxious. This finally calmed the sociopath down and he started talking like a normal human being. I quickly found a way to end the conversation got off the phone.
At this point, I have been in agonizing pain for over a month and-a-half, I have been out of work for the same amount of time, and I have not received a cent in compensation. Now my employer is having imaginary conversations with a doctor who won’t treat me and I’m getting yelled at by some fucking asshole insurance adjuster in Florida who’s probably taking his frustration out on me because of his severely inadequate genitalia.
Time to get a lawyer.
IV: Real Treatment
In hindsight, I can see now that I should have consulted with a lawyer much earlier, but I had never been in a situation like this before and thought I was doing the right thing by seeing the work doctor and just following orders.
In mid-December, I hired a lawyer who specializes in worker’s compensation cases and he let me in on a few secrets. For starters, I could go see any goddamn doctor I wanted to. Goodbye Dr. Koff! Second of all, I was under no obligation whatsoever to talk to my jerk-off adjuster, ever. That’s two problems gone. Things were already looking up.
I was already planning to change my primary doctor to my girlfriend’s, because she recommended him and his office very highly. My primary used to be the same woman my parents saw, but I didn’t care much for the way she worked, so I made the change and set up an appointment with my new primary. I couldn’t get an appointment with him until after the holidays, but that wasn’t really surprising, so I settled for my mid-January appointment. Meanwhile, my lawyer filed a claim petition (an official request for the insurance company to pay me what it owes me) and a penalty petition (which is a petition for them to pay interest penalties since they were supposed to send me lost-time wages a good long time ago.)
My new doctor examined me, ordered an MRI (Callooh Callay!) and scheduled me for some physical therapy. I got right over to the hospital that week and got my MRI done. The following weeks, I began physical therapy, which was extremely painful and difficult, but I expected that. Meanwhile, my lawyer informed me that the insurance company was now trying to dispute my disability. They’re not disputing the fact that I am injured- just that I am unable to work. Right.
Now I haven’t been paid in over four months, I can’t afford food, rent, my car payment or anything else, and now I find out that this case is going to litigation, which means it will definitely be several MORE months before I see the money these pricks owe me. I asked my lawyer if there is anything I could do as far as income. He told me that there are no easy answers for this, because there is no safety net in the system for someone in my position, but that I could do any light-duty work that my doctor approved.
My follow-up doctor’s appointment had to be canceled because it was the day of a very large snowstorm, so I went back to see him about two weeks after we had planned, on 2/22/11. He had not received the results from the MRI for some reason, so he got the hospital on the phone and had them fax the report right over. He came back into the room and told me that I had three herniated discs. He ordered me to stop physical therapy immediately and told me that I am to perform absolutely NO physical labor of any kind. No stretching, bending, pushing, pulling, lifting. Nothing. He referred me to a neurosurgeon, who would decide the next medical course of action.
Now my situation is this:
A.) I am under medical orders not to do any work. This means that I can not get a light-duty job. This means no income.
B.) The insurance company that is SUPPOSED to be supporting me while I’m disabled is trying their damnedest not to do their job. This means no income.
C.) I am fucked.
I asked my lawyer if I could apply for SSI disability, since I am medically unable to work. He said that I could and should do whatever I must to survive until this case is settled, (short, I assume, of armed robbery) so I went online and filed for disability and SNAP, which is what they’re calling food stamps this month. Last week, I received a letter from my employer stating that they are cutting off my main health insurance, since I am not working and therefore not paying toward the premium. As a result of this, I also filed for Medicare. The welfare office mailed me a form to have my doctor fill out, stating that I am medically unable to work and therefore a potential candidate for disability. When I took it to him to fill out, he also referred me to another doctor so I could get an EMG prior to my visit to the surgeon. That way the surgeon will know where nerves are being compressed and will therefore be able to make a more informed decision on my treatment.
That brings us up to today. Next week is my EMG, followed by a visit to the neurosurgeon to see if he wants to stick needles in my back or just slice it open and rearrange shit. Lovely. On top of this, my employer’s insurance company now wants me to go see their surgeon, whose job it is to find a way to disagree with my doctor’s diagnosis.
In the meantime, I have to hope that I am approved for disability, because if I am not, I will be homeless by the end of the month.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Open Letter To Dunkin Donuts
Dear Dunkin Donuts,
A Kreme Delight is the doughnut with chocolate on top and WHITE cream inside. The reason you don't know this is probably because your stupid stores can't decide what to call it from location to location. Sometimes it's "Kreme Delight." Sometimes it's "Kreme-Filled Chocolate." Sometimes it's "Manager's Special." Whatever. I don't care what you call it as long as my order is right, ...which brings me to my point. The next time I order a Kreme Delight at the drive-thru and I get to my destination only to discover that you gave me a Boston Cream, I am going to drive all the way back, pull up to the window and smash it into your fucking face.
Thank you for your consideration.
A Kreme Delight is the doughnut with chocolate on top and WHITE cream inside. The reason you don't know this is probably because your stupid stores can't decide what to call it from location to location. Sometimes it's "Kreme Delight." Sometimes it's "Kreme-Filled Chocolate." Sometimes it's "Manager's Special." Whatever. I don't care what you call it as long as my order is right, ...which brings me to my point. The next time I order a Kreme Delight at the drive-thru and I get to my destination only to discover that you gave me a Boston Cream, I am going to drive all the way back, pull up to the window and smash it into your fucking face.
Thank you for your consideration.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Two Weddings and a Funeral
People are always asking me, "so, what's new with you?" I just shrug and say, "nothing much." Partly because they're just being polite, but mostly because I hate small talk. I like writing, though, so I don't mind explicating my life here, for anyone interested (drunk) enough to read about it. The truth is, my above answer is more often than not, pretty true. My life isn't boring. It's just laid out as agonizingly long periods of dreary, mundane work, punctuated by staccato bursts of lively, convivial activities interlaced with depressingly morbid tragedies. It just so happens that in the past month, I've attended two weddings (in both of which I knew neither the bride, nor the groom) and experienced my first dead pet, (excluding birds/fish/hamsters/hermit crabs because they don't count.)
The first wedding was that of my girlfriend's brother in Palm Springs, California. I've never been to California before (nor, for that matter, had I ever flown at all.) I enjoyed both experiences immensely, despite the fact that we almost crashed into the airport on the way back into Philadelphia (more on that later). My girlfriend and I stayed at the Horizon Hotel, which, I was told, was a favorite of Marilyn Monroe. I was skeptical at first, as most places like this often claim to be frequent havens for movie stars and celebrities of old, but true enough, under our bathroom sink I found several of the teeth Joltin' Joe knocked out of her head after a fifth of Imperial. Those cleaning ladies do a bum job.
The rehearsal dinner was held at Lyons English Grille a few blocks down, alleged favorite of Frank Sinatra (of course). A lovely time was had by all. I especially liked the Vanity Fair caricatures that peppered the walls with so much oldey englishey ambiance. The wedding ceremony and reception took place back at the hotel. Modeled after 60's chic (think Mad Men), it was a unique and very attractive event and all involved had a great time.
While in California, I took the opportunity to see the Cabazon Dinosaurs (as featured in Pee-Wee-s Big Adventure and to a more obscurely knowledgeable audience, The Wizard.) Back in 1985, it was just the T-Rex and the Apatosaurus "Dinny" (pronounced (Dine-E) on a desert lot just off Highway 10 in Cabazon, about 17 miles northwest of Palm Springs. While I figured that the site would not look much like it did 25 years ago, I never suspected that these famous dinosaur statues were now the site of a fucking creationist museum. Yes, a dinosaur museum that claims that they lived alongside cavemen like in The Flintstones. My favorite phrase from their literature: "Evolution tells us that the dinosaurs lived millions of years ago, but science and the Bible teach us..."
Really? Science and the Bible? Really. I don't believe I can think of a single lesson that those two have ever agreed upon. Certainly not this. No, I'm fairly certain science falls squarely on the "65 million years apart" side.
So after that wedding (at which my girlfriend got falling-down drunk for the first time that I've ever seen, but I'm not allowed to talk about that) we flew back to Philadelphia. Our American Airlines experience overall was not bad, insofar as I'm alive to type this. The first three flights (Philly to Dallas - Dallas to Palm Springs - Back to Dallas) went off without a hitch. The last one was slightly less enjoyable because we were unable to sit next to each other (not really a big deal), and because we landed at about 800mph in a torrential downpour (slightly bigger deal), quickly skidding to a halt with what felt like the engines in full reverse. The wavering in the pilot's voice announcing that we were now safely on the ground (and then something about "thanks to the excellent training we receive here at American Airlines) tells me that we narrowly avoided being the big story on Action News that night.
Back in Philadelphia, it was business as usual for about a week, then we had to put Frank down.
Frank was our six year-old pug and we were all very attached to him. He gave us years of loyal friendship and unconditional love. Unfortunately, after suffering heat stroke about three years ago, he lost his ability to function normally. We held on to him for as long as we could, but in the last few months, his gait deteriorated so much that he could barely stand. We put him down Tuesday. He'll be missed.
The following Saturday, I attended another wedding. This time it was a lot closer to home. The ceremony was in a church in East Falls in Philly and the reception followed at Celebrations in Bensalem. I'd like to say the ceremony was nice, but I'm not sure because I couldn't concentrate on it thanks to a whining, squealing child two rows up whose mother apparently couldn't control him for five minutes.
The reception was a blast. Great food. Great music. The part of the evening that stands out the most to me was when a gentleman from the other wedding next-door helped his wife outside (headfirst) by gently locking her neck under his arm and escorting her briskly towards the parking lot for what I'm sure would have been a calm, friendly chat until a few people stepped in and a brief exchange of ideas ensued (consisting mainly of about 40 uses of the "fuck.") The low point of the evening was the DJs who mostly did a great job, but pissed me off by enthusiastically agreeing to my request and then not ever playing it. Two and-a-half hours I waited for it. Nothing. I hope on the way home their truckload of equipment caught fire and left the road for the cozy embrace of a quarry floor.
Overall, it's been an interesting month. Now I just have to survive my birthday on Friday.
The first wedding was that of my girlfriend's brother in Palm Springs, California. I've never been to California before (nor, for that matter, had I ever flown at all.) I enjoyed both experiences immensely, despite the fact that we almost crashed into the airport on the way back into Philadelphia (more on that later). My girlfriend and I stayed at the Horizon Hotel, which, I was told, was a favorite of Marilyn Monroe. I was skeptical at first, as most places like this often claim to be frequent havens for movie stars and celebrities of old, but true enough, under our bathroom sink I found several of the teeth Joltin' Joe knocked out of her head after a fifth of Imperial. Those cleaning ladies do a bum job.
The rehearsal dinner was held at Lyons English Grille a few blocks down, alleged favorite of Frank Sinatra (of course). A lovely time was had by all. I especially liked the Vanity Fair caricatures that peppered the walls with so much oldey englishey ambiance. The wedding ceremony and reception took place back at the hotel. Modeled after 60's chic (think Mad Men), it was a unique and very attractive event and all involved had a great time.
While in California, I took the opportunity to see the Cabazon Dinosaurs (as featured in Pee-Wee-s Big Adventure and to a more obscurely knowledgeable audience, The Wizard.) Back in 1985, it was just the T-Rex and the Apatosaurus "Dinny" (pronounced (Dine-E) on a desert lot just off Highway 10 in Cabazon, about 17 miles northwest of Palm Springs. While I figured that the site would not look much like it did 25 years ago, I never suspected that these famous dinosaur statues were now the site of a fucking creationist museum. Yes, a dinosaur museum that claims that they lived alongside cavemen like in The Flintstones. My favorite phrase from their literature: "Evolution tells us that the dinosaurs lived millions of years ago, but science and the Bible teach us..."
Really? Science and the Bible? Really. I don't believe I can think of a single lesson that those two have ever agreed upon. Certainly not this. No, I'm fairly certain science falls squarely on the "65 million years apart" side.
So after that wedding (at which my girlfriend got falling-down drunk for the first time that I've ever seen, but I'm not allowed to talk about that) we flew back to Philadelphia. Our American Airlines experience overall was not bad, insofar as I'm alive to type this. The first three flights (Philly to Dallas - Dallas to Palm Springs - Back to Dallas) went off without a hitch. The last one was slightly less enjoyable because we were unable to sit next to each other (not really a big deal), and because we landed at about 800mph in a torrential downpour (slightly bigger deal), quickly skidding to a halt with what felt like the engines in full reverse. The wavering in the pilot's voice announcing that we were now safely on the ground (and then something about "thanks to the excellent training we receive here at American Airlines) tells me that we narrowly avoided being the big story on Action News that night.
Back in Philadelphia, it was business as usual for about a week, then we had to put Frank down.
Frank was our six year-old pug and we were all very attached to him. He gave us years of loyal friendship and unconditional love. Unfortunately, after suffering heat stroke about three years ago, he lost his ability to function normally. We held on to him for as long as we could, but in the last few months, his gait deteriorated so much that he could barely stand. We put him down Tuesday. He'll be missed.
The following Saturday, I attended another wedding. This time it was a lot closer to home. The ceremony was in a church in East Falls in Philly and the reception followed at Celebrations in Bensalem. I'd like to say the ceremony was nice, but I'm not sure because I couldn't concentrate on it thanks to a whining, squealing child two rows up whose mother apparently couldn't control him for five minutes.
The reception was a blast. Great food. Great music. The part of the evening that stands out the most to me was when a gentleman from the other wedding next-door helped his wife outside (headfirst) by gently locking her neck under his arm and escorting her briskly towards the parking lot for what I'm sure would have been a calm, friendly chat until a few people stepped in and a brief exchange of ideas ensued (consisting mainly of about 40 uses of the "fuck.") The low point of the evening was the DJs who mostly did a great job, but pissed me off by enthusiastically agreeing to my request and then not ever playing it. Two and-a-half hours I waited for it. Nothing. I hope on the way home their truckload of equipment caught fire and left the road for the cozy embrace of a quarry floor.
Overall, it's been an interesting month. Now I just have to survive my birthday on Friday.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Blog No. 1 in F Major
Hello, readers. This is the new home for the I/O blog which has been in existence for about nine years now in various incarnations. There will not be any strict schedule of updates (a new blog every Saturday, or Monday, Wednesday and Friday, etc.) as I work a full time job with an irregular schedule and have many responsibilities aside from that. I will strive to update it whenever I have anything interesting to say, which is fairly often, if you don't mind the self-lauding.
A few things for those unfamiliar with my style: I do not censor language in any way, as I feel that censorship is an infringement on our right to freedom of press (and is, therefore, much more offensive than the word "fuck" or any other embodiment of "bad" language.) Though I may often intend to be humorous with my use of this language, I never use it solely to be shocking. Personally, I think that's lazy. If you can't be shocking with just your ideas, you're not interesting enough to be read. If you are offended by language such as this and cannot see your way to understanding my use of it for personal and political reasons, you may do well to read something else. I might suggest Highlights For Children.
Hope you enjoy reading, and I welcome all comments.
A few things for those unfamiliar with my style: I do not censor language in any way, as I feel that censorship is an infringement on our right to freedom of press (and is, therefore, much more offensive than the word "fuck" or any other embodiment of "bad" language.) Though I may often intend to be humorous with my use of this language, I never use it solely to be shocking. Personally, I think that's lazy. If you can't be shocking with just your ideas, you're not interesting enough to be read. If you are offended by language such as this and cannot see your way to understanding my use of it for personal and political reasons, you may do well to read something else. I might suggest Highlights For Children.
Hope you enjoy reading, and I welcome all comments.
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