Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Welcome to East TN, You're Welcome!

I’ve been told to write more about my hometown and other local happenings lately.  It has been suggested to me that perhaps I should make my blog a little more positive.  Well, to those people I say, “Here you go”.  I combined the two thoughts and have made what I hope to be a continuing collection of wonderful pictures of all the great entertainment that our area provides.  I scoured Facebook and other media sites to find some of the best pictures and present them to you.  I have many readers in areas outside of TN and I feel that they are being deprived of all the rich culture that is provided here.  Consider this a insiders glimpse into the wonderfulness of East Tennessee, you’re welcome. 
Here we have a lovely lady patronizing one of our fabulous local clubs.  Many people go to these clubs to find their future mates.  I can't begin to tell you the number of successful, healthy relationships that have been born directly from meeting someone at a bar.  I'm sure it's something like 95% of all happily married couples meet in establishments such as this.  Well our lady here is no different, she's just a woman who likes to let it all hang out looking for love.  She puts it all out there and will accept nothing but the best.  Notice the"come hither" look in her eyes, the light caress of her lips, and the thrusted out hips that seem so inviting.  Interested yet?
Not only do our local establishments offer fine dining, wine tasting, and dancing but they also incorporate fun activities like costume parties.  The Halloween parties thrown in this area are legendary.  They provide the normally conservative citizens of our area a chance to let their hair down and go a little wild.  Just take a look at these two lovely ladies to your right and the fabulous pregnant nurse clown below.  I'm sure throughout the week they are normally dressed down accountants or business owners but on a Kingsport Halloween, they truly get to go wild.




Want to get a little wilder?  Oh we can go wilder.  Some of the hottest late night spots in the area provide the risque entertainment that only the most discerning adult desires.  We have Wet T-Shirt competions, Sexy Beach Babe Bikini contests, and a variety of other discreet adult activities.  We live in a small area so you don't have to worry about your business being put out there for the world to see.  There would never be a website dedicated to putting out embarassing pictures of people in these world famous night clubs.  Discretion is a priority.  Below you will find some examples of the sexy hotness going on at this very moment in the Tri-Cities:

She won't let pregnancy
keep her down.


It takes a lot of work to look this good in a bikini, but
boy does she sure know how to work it.
Join in on the fun with the World Famous Hog Wild Wet T-Shirt Competion










He's only 33 and look at how he likes
to take care of young people.  You
can find him and many just like him
in East Tennessee.
I know I've went on and on about all the stuff that the fellas can enjoy but I'm sure you ladies are wondering, "But Sleepy, whats in East Tennessee for me?"  I'm glad you asked because I'm going to answer.  Lucky for you, the Tri-Cities is filled with nice men who can look past a woman's age, who can treat her like a lady, and perhaps give her the gift of a baby.  Like this gentleman here: 




Also for the ladies that like the same risque adult entertainment like the gentlemen do, we have a not quite world famous stripping mens' dance squad, HeteroJoes.  They do regular performances at the local clubs in between meals and not working out.  Check them out, they are free entertainment and will probably gladly escort you back to your hotel room.



All of these pleasures are at the tip of her hands and a plane or car ride away.  I hope that you will come to visit on your next vacation.


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Sunday, March 18, 2012

Time-Murdering Supermarket Trolls: Insane Coupon Clippers and other unstable people

I know that our economy is in the crapper.  I know that we all have to watch what we spend, conserve, and consume.  I get these things, I really do but there are people who take it to the extreme.  I have tried to think of a name for these annoying people that I find every time I go to Wal-Mart or the gas station or Target and I just couldn’t think of a proper and fitting name until today.  Henceforth anyone who inconveniences another for savings, anyone who haggles the price of a box of Twinkies, anyone who brings the entire Sunday paper with them to the grocery store, anyone with the last name Kardashian who clips coupons, or anyone buying the $1 lottery tickets compulsively and checking the chances of winning on each scratcher before purchasing them will now be known as Time Murdering Supermarket Trolls.  I know that it is simple and “troll” is already used for internet douchery but I couldn’t think of anything more fitting for these people.

Two incidents are what finally put me over the edge and made me write about it and give them a name (usually I just called them a variety of derogatory curse words).  First, was yesterday at a gas station in Virginia.  I know that the motto is “Virginia is for lovers” but I think it’s more along the lines of “Virginia:  Home of Sad Desperation.”  As I was standing in line to pay for my gas I was held up by one of my least favorite humans that inhabit gas stations; the lottery player.  Usually the lottery player just annoys me because they will immediately scratch their ticket at the counter, even though it says not to, and redeem whatever they’ve won for more tickets.  And yes, of course, this happened but this new breed of lottery player took it to another level.  He was asking the cashier to check the “chances” on each ticket before purchasing them.  “Excuse me?” the confused looking cashier said.  “Yeah, I just want to have the best chances of winning, I don’t want to lose money if I don’t have to” he laughingly replied.  “Then don’t buy the damn lottery ticket, you moron!!”I thought to myself.  I waited for 5 minutes behind this guy and all the while I’m thinking, “He’s murdering me.  He is killing me in tiny increments.  He is sucking away my life by betting on cheap lottery tickets.”   The cashier was visibly annoyed, other people in line were visibly annoyed, and I was getting verbally annoyed.  I kept muttering small insults under my breath and finally let out a loud, “Dear Jesus!!”  He looked at me quizzically and I just smiled.  After about another 30 seconds he was done.  But I wondered for the rest of the afternoon, who goes to those lengths for the sake of such little money?  Time murdering Supermarket Trolls, that’s who!! 

The 2nd incident was today at Wal-Mart (big surprise, right?).  I went in the morning, which I never do because I like to go late at night and observe the nocturnal mutants, that plus there is a heck of a lot less people there.  So I get my wee bit of groceries and find what seems to be a short line.  It was one man and an average sized buggy full of groceries and assorted crap.  He didn’t look like a troll; he was average looking, unassuming even.  But as he started unloading his stuff onto the track, I saw him pull out a list…and then what appeared to be every ad from the Sunday paper.  Why is he doing that I wondered?  Well, if you didn’t know Wal-Mart has a normally good policy of price comparison.  If you bring in an ad that has the same item for less at another store, Wal-Mart will honor that price.  I think usually people use it for items like TVs, Blu-Ray players, or maybe one or two items; this I can live with.  I’ve even done it before on a couple of DVDs when I was buying groceries there anyway.  But this guy, much like lottery ticket guy, took it to the extreme.  As each item went into the cashier’s hand, he would say, “Oh hold on, let me see if there’s a better price for that” and then proceeded to rummage through what seemed like 50 pages of ads looking for that one item.  It was this part that bothered me more than anything.  He hadn’t even planned it out; he did not have the foresight to do his research before coming there.  I looked around hoping to find another, shorter line but it was all lined up everywhere I saw.  So I had to stick it out and watch as he went page through page and item through item.  After nearly 10 minutes, I saw what I thought was the light at the end of the tunnel when it was down to two boxes of Twinkies but nay that is where the real fun began.  He pulled out his proverbial time murdering knife and tried to combine two ads from two separate stores to get his Twinkies at a bargain.  He had something from Kroger selling Twinkies for like $2.89 per box and an ad from Target for buy 1 get 1 free, so he wanted to pay $2.89 and get one free.  The cashier, probably without realizing it, let out an audible sigh and a roll of the eyes.  She told him she would have to ask a manager and get their approval for something like that and that it wasn’t likely that she would be able to do it.  She even offered to give it to him for the buy one get one price which was $3.19 but he wouldn’t accept and told her that he had time to wait for a manager.  At this point I wanted to pull my own eyeballs out and shove sewing needles into my ears, he was haggling over .30 cents.  What was he going to do with that extra .30 cents?  Was he going to find a cure for cancer?  Was he going to pay his daughters college tuition?  Or perhaps he was going to buy that diamond ring his wife had been so desperately wanting.  I don’t know what it was but he had determination.  As we were standing there waiting another couple walked up behind me with their buggy and I warned them, I said, “You may as well pick the longest line you can find and get in it and when you check out you can look back over here and laugh at me standing in the same place.”  The wife leaned in and asked what was going on, I gave her the run down and that he was simply a cheap troll trying to steal everyone’s time away.  She laughed, told her husband and they moved on.  After 5 more minutes waiting, the manager came over to the register and the troll explained what he wanted.  Now if I was the manager at this point, I would put the Twinkies in his bag and tell him, “This one’s on me, buddy” and send him on his way.  Unfortunately for me, this manager tried and successfully got the man what he wanted. 

He got his combined coupons or whatever you want to call it, good for him but bad for the rest of us.  What’s going to happen when he tells all the other Time-Murdering Supermarket Trolls that he scammed Wal-Mart for .30 cents?  Dear God, they will head there in droves with Sunday papers in hand.  They will slowly kill the rest of us with their cheapskate, trolly, douchery.  We will spend hours in line in order for some troll to save .50 cents on some razors.  It will be mass, boring, time-sucking chaos. 

Maybe I’m overshooting this but a small version of this already goes on.  I’m all for saving money but the coupon clipping, price comparison crap is getting out of hand.  People dedicate huge swaths of time to this.  They are neglecting their children so they can scour the paper or the internet for a .30 cent coupon for diapers.  They are forgetting to feed their dogs and killing them while trying to save a quarter on the next bag of dog food.  I’m good at finding deals because that’s the way I was raised, we just knew what to look for but we weren’t going to waste an entire morning trying to save a grand total of $2.30 on a $124.00 grocery bill.

So what do we do?  How can we stop these people?  Public shame; that’s how.  When all was said and done with the Wal-Mart troll today, I stopped him for a moment and asked, “So after all that, how much did you save?  I’ve got to know.”  He proudly looked at his receipt and proclaimed, “I saved $3.15 on the whole bill!”  And he was genuinely proud of himself.  We waited in line and went through the process for 15 total minutes in order for him to save $3.15 on a bill of $86.  “Wow, that sure is something man.  That’s some pretty crafty shopping you did.  Way to stick it to the man, right?”  I said with every bit of irony and sarcasm that I could muster.  He looked at me for a moment, didn’t answer, hung his head, and walked away.  Maybe he’ll think about it next time before he sucks 15 minutes off of someone else’s life.  But probably not, he probably went to whatever online couponing network he is a part of and bragged about his big take and his loyal minions of fellow trolls are gearing up to hit a grocery store near you.  So be prepared and arm yourself with “Shame Bombs” to throw at them, if we all join together we can maybe stop this coupon-clipping nightmares and make them realize that they don’t need the damn Twinkies anyway.

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Thursday, March 8, 2012

Why Doctors are Gangsters

As I often do, I like to write about the absurd things that happen in life.  Some things are blatantly absurd like bath salts, Rick Santorum, and internet trolls but other issues and scenarios in life are covered under the guise of reasonable and accepted practice when in all reality, when you start to put the pieces together, they are just as ridiculous as Michelle Bachmann’s husband claims of being heterosexual.  One of the most absurd, vile, widely practiced and accepted issues we have here in our country is the whole healthcare system.  I know that healthcare is vitally important to us all.  We have to have someone take care of us when we get cancer or need our leg amputated.  We need trained, well-studied, experienced doctors to diagnose our ills and prescribe the proper medicine to make us all better.  I accept these truths but after a lot of careful observation and contemplation lately I’ve found that these truths also make the healthcare system one of the largest organized “legal” criminal institutions (only second to the government) in our nation.  The entire set-up is just about as gangster as it gets.  From hospitals to doctors to insurance to radiology to clinics all across the board, they are all in a way scamming you and milking you for every dollar that they possibly can.  I don’t necessarily believe that every healthcare worker is in on it and I feel that some really have no choice or voice in the matter; they are just another cog in the giant wheel of obscene money.  I can say this because my wife is a nurse and she really has no voice in what goes on, sure she takes the information about the patient and tells the doctor what is going on and then takes care of the patient but she can’t really determine the path of treatment and what all it will entail; she is a cog in the machine. 

The best and most recent example that really got me thinking about this was based around a family member of mine who has gone through some extensive back issues.  Since I don’t want to actually use her name in the fear that her doctors might possibly read this and in turn treat her even worse, I will call her “Beulah” and leave it at that.  So Beulah has had a history of back problems over the past 4 to 5 years.  She has had 3 ruptured discs, sciatica, degenerative disc disease, back surgery, and most recently a small spinal fracture (don’t worry she isn’t paralyzed or anything but it causes a great deal of pain).  Back pain is a broad subject and often easily dismissed by doctors until there is absolute proof showing an injury.  Try going to the ER and telling them you have “back pain” or “back spasms” and notice that you’ll get a look of doubt and/or suspicion.  It’s understandable to a point why there is skepticism when someone makes that claim because of all the stupid “seekers”.  Seekers is the affectionate name bestowed upon people who go to the ER or multiple doctors claiming pain and simply wanting a good shot of morphine and a script of Loratabs but have no real pain or issues to speak of.  Seekers screw up so much for the rest of the people with actual issues.  But I digress, Beulah has many noted back problems and thus has to undergo many tests, see many specialists, and the newest escapade, she went to a pain clinic. 

Here is the first part of the entire medical scam:  When Beulah’s back first started giving her problems common sense dictated to her that she needed to see a doctor.  The problem with this is you cannot use your God given logic and just make yourself an appointment with a back specialists or a neurosurgeon, no, you have to go to your primary care doctor who then has to refer you to a specialist.  So already you are looking at two different doctors’ bills right off the bat.  The primary care doctor is fairly helpless in helping Beulah and can only give her some highly addictive pain medication to deal with the crippling discomfort of her jagged back.  The primary care doctor could maybe order an MRI but she’d probably rather pass that along to the specialist that will take at least another week to get in with.  So now you have a good week to be dependent on these new narcotics while awaiting the specialist.  Every day Beulah and millions of others have to deal with this.  It’s comparable to putting a Band Aid on hollow point bullet wound, sure it will stop some of the bleeding but ultimately it’s still going to bleed and not fix anything.   So assuming that the primary care doctor didn’t order an MRI (which would also be billed separately through another medical group, bill #3 if you’re keeping count), Beulah arrives at the specialist and the doctor is able to ask some questions, feel around on the back, see what the reflexes are like, and check the range of motion but says, “Well, it looks like you have some issues but we can’t really tell anything until we see an MRI or CT scan so let me order that and we’ll schedule you a follow up appointment with our office.”  Now wouldn’t it be convenient if inside of an office that requires almost 99% of its patients to have and MRI, that it actually had an MRI machine?  Of course it would!!!  But that’s not where the money is at and here is where some more of the “gangster” stuff happens.

The specialist knows that they have no MRI machine there in the office but they will have to send Beulah to a radiologist group which they are affiliated with.  We can call it profit sharing, or as I like to call it monopolizing.  Neither Beulah nor you can tell the doctor, “Hey, I’d like to go to this place to have it done.  It’d be more convenient for me.”  The special doctor has worked out a deal through his office to use the services of this other radiologist office exclusively.  Of course getting that all important MRI scheduled is going to take at least another week to get in and then 3 or 4 days to get the results sent back to the specialist who will then call Beulah and schedule another appointment to discuss these results in another 3 or 4 days.  So now she is up to bill #4 because of the follow up.  The follow up doesn’t go so well, it shows some new disc protrusions and ruptures and fractures.  The option of surgery is once again presented which could take 2 or 3 more weeks to schedule. So in the meantime, Beulah is given more powerful narcotics to ease her pain until this surgery is done.  Beulah complains that she would like some more timely results; she has already waited 4 weeks since this whole fiasco started.  So the specialist refers her to another specialist, a doctor at a pain clinic which can see her in a matter of a 3 more days.

So another bill, #5 I think, is going to be racked up by Beulah.  The pain clinic is a very diligent, methodical, cold place where caring and giving a damn are pretty low on the priorities totem pole.  They have very strict rules about filling out paper work, timing, and other miscellaneous tedious tasks to do before even coming into their office.  Beulah’s original appointment was set at 2 pm and was told to arrive 15 minutes early because of paper work but preferably an hour if possible.  Why can the information not be sent from doctor to doctor?  Couldn’t the previous specialist just send all of the paper work filled out for their office onto the pain clinic?  Of course it could, but that would involve caring, logic, and convenience which as we are slowly learning is completely out of the question.  Unfortunately for Beulah she gets a little lost trying to find this pain clinic because it is not clearly marked on the building, I guess because it just doesn’t sound that appealing, and arrive right at 2 pm.  Beulah explains the issue to the receptionist and apologizes but alas it doesn’t matter.  She is told that not only will she not be seen because of the inadequate time to fill out paper work but she will also be charged for “wasting their time slot”.  Now, I’ve been to my fair share of doctors and I know with more certainty than death and taxes that no one ever gets seen at their appointed time.  No one in the history of man or medicine has any patient walked through the door at their appointed time and not had to wait.  And I’m not even talking about just the waiting in the lobby but the waiting once the patient is back in the examination room too.  As a patient you are looking at 30 minutes bare minimum worth of waiting at each appointment.  I went with Beulah to this particular appointment, as any good friend would do, and I pointed that out to the receptionist after Beulah walked away out of pure anger.  I said, “Come on, she was here at the time and we both know that the doctor wasn’t going to fly in at 2:01 and start checking her out.  She could spend all of that waiting time filling the stuff out.  Wouldn’t that work?”  All I got out of the robot woman was a “No, sorry we can’t do that”.  I hate hearing that phrase because we know a lot of things that can and can’t be done.  Like I know that I can’t sprout wings and start to fly around and sing the love ballads of Barry White because that is actually impossible.  But in a situation like Beulah was in, it was obvious that I had found a practical solution where everyone could be happy.  Unfortunately we don’t live in a “grey” society or a society that allows a little leeway in the rules.  Everything is “this is the way it is and that’s that”.  People are too scared to think outside of their retarded box that was built by their boss.  She couldn’t just concede that I had just made sense and let Beulah be seen.  So of course she has to reschedule.

On the next visit Beulah obviously doesn’t want to go alone because of the way things wound up the previous time and she asks me to go.  We arrived at the standard, carved in stone time of 15 minutes early and avoided the problem with robosecretary.  But guess what, we sat in that stupid lobby for 30 minutes before being taken to a room in which we waited another 20 minutes!!!  I love being right but I hate when I’m right about things that suck.  Beulah spends 20 minutes explaining everything that is going on with her back to this PA (physician’s assistant), she gives every grueling detail to her and the PA pretends she is paying attention and taking notes but probably really just writing out a grocery list.  The PA responds to all the questions and then tells Beulah that she will now report to the doctor what’s going on and that he’ll be in shortly.  So there has now been 15 minutes of paperwork that she has filled out explaining her issues plus 20 minutes explaining the same issues to a PA, and now the doctor walks in and says, “So, you’re having some discomfort in your back?  Why?”  I wanted to scream, “Did you not just look at all that paperwork and listen to your assistant about all the problems or are you too stupid to comprehend simple things that my 10 year old could tell you!!”  Needless to say, she attempted to explain her problems all over again but in the douchy doctor move, he cut her off.  He didn’t want to look at any MRIs or X-rays nor did he want to hear about anything else.  He told her that he wanted to get her a psych exam so that she could start on a regimen of OxyContin and morphine.  That’s the answer?  More drugs that are ten times more dangerous and addictive than what Beulah was already taking?  Awesome!!

Both Beulah and I were livid, well she was more livid and I was more annoyingly amused at the stupidity that he was showing, and she told him that she wasn’t going to take a psych exam nor did she want to take OxyContin or morphine.  “Well, I can’t treat you then” he said and immediately I could see that he shut himself down from any further conversation or rationalizing.  Beulah was asking about immediate things that could be done like an epidural steroid injection or a TENS unit or physical therapy because she already was given narcotics that she didn’t want to take by the other doctors which wasn’t helping her.  He said that he “didn’t like” doing things like that, he preferred the pharmaceutical route and that if she didn’t want to go that way then he couldn’t help her.  This was that “Zen moment of clarity” for me that truly told me what gangsters some of these doctors really are.  OxyContin is a drug that almost immediately creates dependence in the user.  Oftentimes once a patient has been prescribed a drug like that it is almost a guarantee that they will be on it for years to come if not for the rest of their lives.  So the doctor, like a crack dealer, knows that if they can just get you take a little taste that they will have you for life because the patient would have to continue seeing that doctor’s office (which is a new bill each time) plus they will be taking their drug (which these doctors have deals with for selling).  And let’s say that one day a patient decides that they want to get off of OxyContin, that it’s just too bad for them and is ruining their life, well don’t worry Dr. Gangster Drug Dealer has another solution for you!!  The doctor would then send their victim to a methadone clinic which “helps” people come off of drugs such as heroin, OxyContin, and other powerful narcotics/opioids.  How crazy is that?  The same thing to get one off of illegal street heroin is the same thing used to get off of legal, doctor prescribed OxyContin.  You might think, “Well, it doesn’t matter.  It’s still a good thing because it’s getting people off of these dangerous drugs” but you’d be wrong.  Methadone is just as addictive and people that go to these clinics pay a fee every week to get their medicine and if they miss a dose they are in horrible withdrawals.  I know a couple of people that have had to drive an hour and a half to the nearest methadone clinic for the last 9 years every week.  What’s the point?

Either way we look at it, the doctors are making money by finding creative revenue streams.  They use specialists, radiologists, surgeons, and worst of all drugs as ways to filter in cash to their giant money hole.  In the long scenario that I just lined out, it was a total of 4 doctors and offices that Beulah had to go to.  If she would have accepted the fate of getting a psych exam plus starting the OxyContin treatment it would’ve been 5 or 6 different doctors, all armed with their own detailed bills.  Please don’t feed me the garbage about insurance and Obamacare or RomneyCare or IDon’tCare because no matter whose plan is in effect you still have to go through way too many flaming hoops to get any issue taken care of.  As it stands today, Beulah still has no scheduled back surgery; she has her original prescription of painkillers, and is going through extreme pain every day.  To me it seems completely unnecessary, the doctors could easily get their heads together and fix problems but they are being dictated by the money lust that has destroyed their logic. 

***Now that I’ve wrote all of this, karma will come back and give me SuperCancer and a spinal fracture that leaves me paralyzed and the doctors will completely ignore me and shoot a giant air bubble into my IV as they walk away laughing.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Katie vs. Pammycakes: The eBay Message Troll Battle

Customer service used to simply mean that you made sure that your customers got what they needed, answered customers questions, and kept a good business rapport with them.  In a nutshell, that’s what it’s supposed to be.  Reality shows another thing entirely.  I’d always spoke about how I do get interesting e-mails and interesting exchanges but this most recent one has been one of my favorites and was good enough to post.  This was a simple eBay transaction between my wife and a woman who calls her self “Pammycakes”.  Pammycakes sells women’s clothing on-line and my wife stumbled across one of her items, purchased it, realized that it was the wrong size, and immediately tried to stop the transaction through messaging the seller.  Katie wrote the first couple of messages but once Pammycakes got a little crazy, I took over.  Katie can hold her own but I enjoy this stuff a little more.   So here it is, in all of its glory, Katie vs. Pammycakes!!


Dear pammycakesworld,

I need to cancel this order and get a refund. The pants ordered will not fit me, and it was not clear to me about the size until I reviewed the order. I would appreciate you not shipping them and just refunding my money. Thanks so much


- kkerney2


 (Pretty reasonable, right?  Simple request.)


Dear kkerney2,

hey diva it's me pammycakes ....this order has shipped ...also what was unclear about the sz ... i will be more than happy to refund you minus my shipping cost and seller fees as soon as i receive my item back....pamm 478 2739104


- pammycakesworld





(Why the constant use of the word “diva”?  I don’t know but after reading through her feedback she calls everyone a diva.  Some one forgot to tell her that “diva” is not a term of endearment)





Dear pammycakesworld,

Because I needed a large. So, how much money am I giving you and losing on the return?
I contacted you as soon as I realized the error and it was merely a few hours later.


- kkerney2





(I thought this was a reasonable request from Katie and I didn’t sense attitude.  But who am I?  I’m a silly man who doesn’t use “diva” in his everyday vocabulary)





Dear kkerney2,

first off ur'e coming across as if you have an attitude with me ....i do not tolerate any form of meaness...IT'S NOT NECESSARY
1- REVIEW MY FEEDBACK I'M ONE OF THE FASTEST SHIPPERS ON EBAY
2- YOUR FIRST MESSAGE CAME THRU TO ME ASKING COULD YOU BE ABLE TO EXCHANGE
3-THERE WAS A SIZE CHART IN THAT AD TO HELP GUIDE YOU
4-MY PHONE NUMBER IS ALSO INCLUDED IN THAT AD TO HELP YOU
5-YOU SELECTED THE SIZE FOR ME TO SHIP TO YOU REMEMBER?
6-OBVIOUSLY YOU DID NOT READ MY AD I DON'T OFFER REFUNDS BUT MERCHANDISE CREDITS
7-WHEN I RESPONDED TO YOUR MESSAGE TODAY I WAS NICE ENOUGH TO GO AGAINST POLICY AND OFFER YOU A REFUND MINUS MY SHIPPING COST AND SELLER FEES....now please ...what is most important is trying to earn your repeat business ...so please let's both kill the attitude and work with each other and know you are not giving me nothing i haven't already lost on this transaction


- pammycakesworld





(Here is an example of one of my favorite types of people on the internet.  The “ALL-CAPS, grammatical English rapist”.  My favorite part of this message was when she stopped using the CAPS and tried to reel Katie back in to being a repeat customer.  It’s kind of like saying, “Hey I know I just took an adult sized dump on your head but will you still buy my crap?”  Silly Diva)





And here is where I stepped in…..





Dear pammycakesworld,

Pammycakes, at this point after reading your e-mail of mass proportions of attitude, I wanted to address you in the manner in which you just addressed me.
1. TYPING IN ALL CAPS IS RUDE AND IS LIKE SCREAMING ON-LINE
2. The first message that I sent you is at the very bottom of this thread, if you scroll to the bottom it'll be easy to read and interpret.
3. Sometimes humans make mistakes that is part of our nature (read your own e-mail for further proof)
4. I saw that you added your phone number but you don't seem like a person that I'd like to talk to. You seem like a person that'd upset me
5. Condescending your "customers" does not seem to be a positive way to keep them. Probably doing something along the lines of kindness would be your best bet.
6. I did read your ad, but my logic took over. I figured that since I caught my error within a short time that chances were that you hadn't sprinted to the post office to ship it off and the error could be easily fixed. I guess the postmark will tell the ultimate truth, huh?
7. You're right. Your kindness knows no boundaries. How kind of you to charge a sellers fee. Can I do something like that and make a buyers fee? Seems reasonable to me. Oh and the shipping too. Why not charge enough to make me want to stick with these magical pants of yours rather than go through the hassle of sending it back with money in your pocket? Solid logic.
8. I would rather donate these pants to the first homeless person that I come across than send them back to you.
9. Google the word "etiquette" I think you'll find it helpful in your future business endeavors.
10. Don't expect positive feedback from me as I have contacted the seller "Pammycakes" and this is what I've gotten. Rude, grammatically disturbing, horrible communication and attitude do not warrant positivity. (But I have a feeling you already knew this)
11. Enjoy the $28 I'm sure that you need it more than I do, diva (see that's condescending, huh?)





(Oh, logic.  You are my best friend.  You are always there for me when I need you the most.  You show people less fortunate the error of their ways and thoughts)





Dear kkerney2,

funny how i was sitting here hoping you would be kind ....and believe it or not i was truly considering refunding you fully....obviously you took my words as attitude ...but nevertheless...your pants are on the way ..and thank goodness you have been communicating with me online that way ebay and paypal will truly be able to see ...you were not sure what size u needed ....i shall respod to your feedback now but i will do so TRUTHFULLY !!!!


- pammycakesworld





(Surprise!!  She gave Katie negative feedback and in eBay-world that is like giving someone AIDS.)


She next follows up with about 5 e-mails just kind of baiting and insulting Katie.  It was silly and not worth printing because of her lack of grammatical skills.  Katie took back over and asked her repeatedly to stop harassing her and wanted no further contact.  At 1:15 in the morning, Pammycakes just couldn’t stand it and had to send one more.





Dear kkerney2,

goodnight angel footsie wootsie


- pammycakesworld





(Angel??  Footsie Wootsie??  WTF does that mean?)





And I take back over one last time. 





Dear pammycakesworld,

Dearest Pammycake,
I'm not sure what your comprehension level is or what your ability to look at a clock is, but every time that you troll about and message me it sends an alert to my phone. It's 1:15 a.m. Here is what I'm imagining right now, you are probably a beautiful person in appearance, you probably get guys flirting with you every day, but on the inside you are a bottomless pit of sadness and eating disorders. Your heart is probably a cold dead place where no real human emotion resides besides snarkiness and narcissism. You are probably alone right now, sad that the new guy that you picked up from the bar has already left b/c he simply couldn't stand to hear you speak about divas and all of your other pretentious ranting. Now that you are alone with your thoughts, nothing is left for you. You can get on the internet and troll around or you can pour yourself another vodka & tears tonic and drink your lonely, sad existence away. Unfortunately for me, you chose to troll. I've read some of your other negative feedback comments and you really lack any creativity. You spout about everyone scamming you, you make fun of a person's size, you use "diva", and now some weird sexual reference to me of "footsie wootsie". Does all of this come from your father not loving you? Were you never pretty enough for mommy? Do all of these imagined scams stem from you feeling cheated by your parents "scamming" you out of a healthy childhood? I think any good psychiatrist would read all of this and make some of these suggestions. You have a problem with rejection, with being told no, you cannot take simple instructions, and you want everyone to feel very sorry for you. I hope you can find help and get over yourself. You are supposed to be a human being, not whatever it is you're doing now. So here are my instructions for you. Go to sleep, stop e-mailing me, no more contact, enjoy the money, and call your parents in the morning, hash out your issues. Ok, bye bye. No more contact


- kkerney2




Needless to say, that kind of stopped Pammycakes from any further contact.  Hopefully, she called her parents the next morning as I suggested and settled all of her issues

As always if you like what I do or even if you don't and want to tell me how much I suck, you can go to my page by clicking this link and click "like".  Also don't forget to look around at the lovely sponsors on the page, I promise they won't treat you like Pammycakes.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Please Don't Pass the "Bath" Salt

I don't care how pretty it is
I don't want to shove it in my nose
I have an idea.  I want to open a shop, my own business, and in this shop I want to sell rusty hepatitis needles, buckets of broken glass with AIDS blood, and self-adhesive herpes infected duct tape to wrap around one’s genitals and call the store “STD’s and Sharp Objects Emporium”.  What?  You don’t think that’s a good idea?  Why not?  Because it’s an obviously terrible and dangerous idea that would ultimately kill every customer I had and there would be people stupid enough to buy it.  Sure, my example might be a wee bit on the extreme side but when you look at the current predicament that we are in with all of this blatantly retarded synthetic drug mess it’s not that far off.  And I use the word “retarded” because it’s the only one that fits and I can justify it.  Merriam-Webster defines the word as “slowness in development or progress” and isn’t that what this whole bath salts/K2/synthetic marijuana thing is?  People selling these chemical abortions are impeding the progress of society.  They are like vultures for stupid people.  They see some naïve or blatant idiot walk into their store and they know “I can make a buck off of this”.  Going back to my horrible idea of my sharp objects and STD store, don’t you think that someone in the government would immediately come in and shut it down with no questions asked?  Of course they would.   They wouldn’t have to hide behind stuff like chemical compounds and legality.  No.  They would say, “Hey, jerkoff.  You can’t sell crap that’s going to kill everyone!!”  I would have no recourse.  I couldn’t hide behind the guise of therapeutic, aromatherapy, incense garbage; it would be obvious to everyone that I’d be selling diseases.  Why is this not obvious now?  Why can’t the government, on any level, just say “cut the shit, you can’t sell this stuff”? 

It would be so much cooler if
Walter White could explain this section
Well, I wanted to research it a bit to find out why.  According to Hunterdon Drug Awareness Program, a nonprofit group who researches drugs and addiction, it’s difficult to regulate because of all the various chemical compounds in these synthetic drugs.  MDPV was the original chemical along with mephedrone, and methylone that started this wave of retardation.  They belong to a group of synthetic cathinones related to natural cathinones found in some plants which produce only a mild effect.  The FDA had not been able to regulate these probably because they never thought people would be dumb enough to try it.  Now that the ball is rolling and many states are outlawing MDPV, mephedrone, and methylone yet another loop hole has been found.  By just manipulating a couple of molecules in these compounds they can technically call them something else and just restart the process all over.  The newer second generation, if you will, chemical is Naphyrone which is basically just some chemists messing around with the same crap and calling it something else.  Naphyrone acts as a TRIPLE reuptake inhibitor controlling Serotonin which is the natural stuff inside our bodies that makes us feel good.  We release Serotonin when we are dealing with stress and are trying to make ourselves happy, like an orgasm.  Now imagine something tripling the effect.  It sounds good in theory (a TRIPLE orgasm!!!) but too much Serotonin increases body temperatures to dangerous levels, causes irrational and erratic behaviors, and often death.  A triple orgasm sounded so much better.  This is why we read stories of people doing insane things on these bath salts and K2.  They are higher than shit and have zero control over anything that they do.  So basically, science and chemistry are blocking the outright banning of these substances because when one gets outlawed, they change the molecules around, and BAM!! A new synthetic drug is born.  The government/legal system can’t, for whatever reason, keep up.

See this is a plant, it's not synthetic.
Why is this plant illegal?
Here’s the irony of it for me; cocaine, no matter what has been added or taken away, is across the board illegal, a natural plant, marijuana, no matter what is done to it is almost across the board illegal (some states have wised up and actually bothered reading a medical study or two and legalized it because there is no harm and has medical benefits, but we’ll get to that later), meth and all of its crazy chemical concoctions is illegal, and heroin forget about it, you won’t find that at your local drug store.  So if all of these and other drugs are illegal why not just say, “Synthetic drugs not used in the form of any medically beneficial way are illegal”?  It seems simple to me.  In my opinion it comes down to too much governmental red tape.  They step on so many other aspects of the private lives of citizens and corporations, why not just one more?  Why not do something worthwhile?  Why not stop caring who wants to marry who and keeping all of their lobbyist groups happy and ban something that is so obviously harmful? 

If only he could run on this platform alone
In one of the first “marijuana” laws in 1905, the US Department of Agriculture declared that cannabis (the fancy scientific word for pot) was a poison and thus was able to start the ball rolling and got cannabis banned in 29 states and eventually by 1935 it was across the board “illegal poison”.  Now, that seemed simple enough.  They effectively banned a “drug” that at the time showed no actual poisonous effects.  Why not now?  Couldn’t Obama get to the podium in front of CNN, FauxNews, and MSN and say, “WTF?  Bath Salts??  Really??  You people are snorting this shit?  Screw it, you aren’t responsible enough.   It’s illegal, bitches!!” and then he drops the mic and walks off stage.  When things are simplified it’s easier but we can’t do it, because it would be considered improper and in bad taste.  If all of the politicians could speak freely and say what really needed to be said, our world would be such an immeasurably better place.  If they weren’t worried about offending or upsetting their lobbyist groups and went with their guts we wouldn’t have something like this. 



Did you see that?  Romney just turned on an obviously sick guy who used medical marijuana and suggested that he use synthetic stuff.  He didn’t want to offend his buddies in the pharmaceutical companies by saying that medical marijuana is beneficial, but then made a bigger blunder by being an assclown who not only ignores a sick man and his questions but suggests something far more dangerous in synthetics.  If he’s an actual intelligent human being like he claims to be (and that’s a stretch), he would’ve been able to say, “Yeah, I see your point.  We should really look into this.  Perhaps there are benefits” in a perfect world but he couldn’t suggest medicines because the guy already covered that and said they didn’t work so he went with something that was technically legal.  To me this video speaks volumes about the whole situation of synthetics and the decriminalization of marijuana.  No politician has been willing to use common sense, look at facts, and make an intelligent informed decision.

When people are raping goats in their grandmother’s dresses, leaving their baby strapped to their car seat in the middle of the interstate, or going into full scale seizures from a legal drug, then it’s time to make some sort of change.  So if you want to make some sort of difference, I have some suggestions.

·         Don’t buy it, unless you’re planning on killing yourself.

·         Boycott any store that sells it, no matter how cool the bongs that they sell are.

·         Maybe do a protest.  Protests gain attention and make for bad press for the place.

·         Perhaps drop a line to your Governor, Senator, or other ineffective state representative.  They won’t read it but perhaps an intern will see it and mention it in a meeting or if enough people write them they will just get so fed up that they might consider helping you.

·         Spread the word, share some articles (like this one, wink, wink) on Facebook or Twitter, and if you know someone doing this stuff, slap them and flush it.

If you like the stuff I say or even if you don’t and want to insult me relentlessly on Facebook, go to this link and click like and you’ll be free to heap praise or troll me with your ridiculous rhetoric.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

A Strange Man Put Warm Goo on me and it wasn't Gay at all

This is the best medicine, well that
plus some heavy antibiotics
"You know this is oddly, unintentionally homoerotic right?" I asked the ultrasound tech yesterday. "Uh, no. Why?" he answered kind of uncomfortably. "Well, here I am lying shirtless on a table in a dark room being squirted with warm goo by a stranger while he rubs my arm. Out of context it sounds kind of gay huh?" I told him. He got a huge belly laugh out of that and thus the tension of being in the hospital around strangers was broken. Throughout my bouts of sickness and long stints in the hospital I've always tried to make jokes with the staff. Some of them are humorless androids of which all jokes and attempts of laughter are completely lost upon, and others can appreciate a good laugh in a gloomy job.



Over the past 4 + years, I've been in the hospital more times than I can count. I've had cancer, cellulitis, MRSA, sarcoidosis, 3 blood clots, 7 surgeries, radiation, 2 wound VACs, 4 PICC lines, a removal of my gall bladder, and 2 of these weird little tubes with a pump on the end that drains yucky yellow fluid from my knee. I've found that about the only way to deal with all the crushing depression of being sick so often is to joke about it. When I first got cancer, I was still able to do a lot of things, just as I still am, but oftentimes I was really just too sick to do crap. My father in law would often come by the house when I would be stuck there all day and check on me. I would always make a point to make him feel uncomfortable as possible. "Dusty, why don't you take out the trash? It's right outside the door, all you've got to do is open the door and put trash out there." he would often ask when I had simply forgotten or been too lazy to do it. "Oh sorry Mike, I didn't do it because my cancer hurt." He would look uncomfortable and guilty for a moment and then I'd bust out laughing, hop up, and take out the trash in front of him. He hated it and has never gotten my sense of humor, but it always made me laugh.



What radiation feels like.
If I had not been able to joke about all of this and laugh, I would've gone insane a long time ago. Everyone around me over the past 4 years has been really supportive, but they don't always appreciate the uncomfortable stuff that I say. or do. My wife will still occasionally cringe when I make jokes. My mom and grandmother don't always get it. My mother-in-law doesn't laugh. And oftentimes hospital workers give me the look that says, "Stay right there for a moment while I go get you a strait jacket." When I was forced to go into do radiation (and I say "forced" because I didn't want to go, I found it completely unnecessary) I protested quite often. Sure I knew that I would go and do it but no without making them feel queasy first. The first day I arrived for my radiation treatment, I announced that I was there to "get into their Easy Bake Oven". One of the admitting nurses looked at me like I was a monster and the other cracked up. If you don't know, radiation for some patients can cause extreme skin burns and skin deteriation. It's a complete toss up, you could have minimal effects or you could look like a steak that had been left on a grill for 5 hours. Luckily for me, after they got done with me, my leg looked like a charred corpse. It hurt like nothing I've ever experienced. The first few treatments only minor burns were showing up but soon enough it was starting to turn black and flaky. Often when I would arrive for treatment they would ask how I was doing and I'd reply with "Well done" or "Extra Crispy". Heads would hang with quiet laughter and a tinge of embarrassment but at least I got a kick out of it.



Before I got the first surgery to remove the tumor or had ever had a single round of radiation, I would go to doctor's appointments with a bit of Skoal in my mouth. I wasn't doing it to be defiant, well maybe a little but that wasn't my main deal. I did it because I was addicted to it, it made me feel at ease, and I liked it. My doctor would always fuss at me, "Why do you insist on dipping when you're here?" he would ask. "Why not? Am I going to get even more cancer?" I would always tell him. He would grin but still insist that I not do it. Eventually I quit doing that to him after he had done the first 2 surgeries to remove the tumor, but I enjoyed it while it lasted. I knew everything was completely treatable but there was a lot to go through to get too well again. I really had no idea.



This is what a wound vac looks
like.  I could've posted a picture
of one actually attached to a
wound but I didn't want you to vomit
After the first two surgeries and radiation, my leg got infected pretty badly because they didn't quite wait long enough for me to heal from the surgeries before starting me on radiation. The radiation opened the surgical wounds and thus caused me to be really susceptible to infections since I had to hang around the hospital all the time, thus causing me a whole new batch of problems. The first time I got a serious MRSA infection they had to go in and cut out a baseball sized hole in my leg to get it all out. Obviously I couldn't walk around with a hole in my leg, so when I woke up from surgery I had a wound VAC stuck to my leg. If you don't know, a wound VAC is this machine that you carry around in a bag that looks like the most unfashionable purse with a tube running to where the wound was that literally sucked out all the yucky fluid. In short, it simply sucked. I didn't really have any idea of how much flesh they had taken out of me until I got home and my home health nurse had to come out and change the tubing and bandages. When she removed it, I was amazed because there in my leg was a hole as wide as a baseball and about 2-3 inches deep. I wasn't really grossed out by it and was actually kind of fascinated by it. As my nurse was getting ready to bandage it back up I told her to give me just a moment. I pulled out my cell phone and took a picture of it and sent the pic to my wife with the message that said, "Look, I've got a HOLE new place to hide my stuff." She was at work and when she retrieved my message I quickly got a horrified call from her. "Oh my God, what is wrong with you, that's disgusting? Is that your leg?" She was nearly in tears, but I told her yeah and it was fine.



The biggest inconvenience of that wound VAC, besides the fact that it looked like a cheap purse with tubes coming out of it, was the fact that it made "farting" noises all of the time. Often when I would venture out of the house, I would get the strange looks from everyone when the little machine would rip one off that sounded worthy of Roseanne but there was never a worse time than when I had to go to a funeral. My wife's grandfather passed away shortly after I had this Godforsaken machine placed with me. I tried to get out of wearing the VAC before going to the funeral but I was leaking so badly that it would've leaked out all over my khakis. So with regret, I had to wear it. I sat in the service just praying that it wouldn't go off but during one of the most solemn of moments, a prayer, the little VAC ripped off one of the loudest fart noises yet. I opened my eyes while everyone was praying and looked around to see if anyone had noticed, I saw a few curled up faces but then I saw my brother in law about to lose it his composure as he was choking on his laughter. It made my embarrassment feel a little better from then on. Plus I knew Katie's grandfather and I know that he would have gotten a big kick out of the whole thing, I liked to think that he was looking down on the whole situation and laughing hysterically.

Through it all, I've tried to laugh about it. I don't really like talking about it because I don't want anyone feeling sorry for me. Nothing makes me feel worse than people looking at me like, "Oh you poor thing". I don't mind anyone saying anything like that but looks are more uncomfortable than anything. I'd rather see someone smile or find some humor in a humorless situation. I'm getting better even though I still have my moments of getting sick (like my recent round of MRSA) but I all I can do is take the medicine and make the nurses and doctors feel grossly uncomfortable and confused.