dumpster heaven

I just finished reading the first several pages of a Google search on Siberian dwarf hamsters (technically, the Campbell's hamster) as Taarna died a couple weeks ago. Karen our Kaseworker wanted me to research the subject before we buy a new pet. Trish was talking gerbils, but that would mean another trip to the Fargo of the Invisible Landscape, & we just went there & back again in Karen's car-vroom-vroom to see Doc Larocque Monday.

As for the visit to the psychiatrist--my wife & I both suffer from Mindstorms--we set the alarm clock for 7:30 in order to be on the road by 9:00; this is/was early for Trish, sedated from her Zyprexa. I nuked us a couple bowls of oatmeal, & then we had to split because we had no time to waste. I'd spent the weekend looking up mood-stabilizers on the internet, as Trish's diagnosis was recently changed to bipolar. Mostly I learned that you want to stay away from Dopamax; makes you stupid. Once the car-vroom-vroom was Reuben down the highway, we snacked on Trish's banana-spice cookies, though Cathy declined; she came with. The trip was uneventful, & I kept my suicidal ideation to myself--I'd been going thru some extremely rapid cycling, & had been suicidal twice in the last couple weeks, only to be ecstatic the next day. Doc Larocque bumped up my Depakote--my level was low--& the Risperdal as an ancillary mood-stabilizer. Trish expressed concern that the Zyprexa was giving her the incredible munchies & was switched to Risperdal; today, after not-snacking in the middle of the night, she surprised me by waking up at 6:30.

I made us some toasted frog & then played around with the Machine for awhile, as we needed to ride the Invisible taxi up to the Invisible Clinic to get our haldol shots; Perky Pam is out of town.

The big news, though, is that we're still together, still going strong, in spite of all the Kimothys. Sunday we celebrated our first wedding anniversary. We had the alarm set for 7:00 again that day, as I wanted us to go to Church, not out of excessive devotion on my part, but because it seems to help Trish. We hung out at the house for a couple hours afterward, then walked over to visit the dread Blanket-man & his Karen Relationship.

They b-b-qued some bratwurst (the pup turned her nose up in the air over it); we also had sweet-&-sour cabbage (from the buckadingdong store), baked beans (mama mia, that's a spicy bean!) & baked potatoes. Biggie gave us a ride home at 3:00, so we could take our mid-day meds, & we went bouncy-bouncy for awhile, to the tune of old Tull while we mutually exacerbated VADIS. (She looks good in bondage pants.)

So if you don't know about me & VADIS by now, order The Mind-Warp Era at www.amazon.com; it's sort of like this blog but it's also like an elaborate comic book in which the entire world is mindstormed by a psionic satellite that was inspired by Dick. Next thing you know, they'll have actually built the Space Ferry & won't be needing huge rockets to reach orbit.

Typical Saturday

Yesterday, I went to the Perky Pam Layout, while Trish stayed home & did the laundry; the other Trish cooked us turkey breast--a feast of friends; I wish they'd just can Cheri & give her this job permanently... alas, she returns to school in the fall. In the evening, Jeffer Auss (the only good Scooby) came over on his day off--one of them; he had Thursday, Friday & today off this week--& we drove out to McRonald's to pick up the Mighty Insect Slayer. While we waited for her to wash her trays I enjoyed a diet Coke while he sipped a shake. While we were there, though, I developed a bad case of the incredible munchies, & bought a bacon cheeseburger. God yeah & I know I'm fat, & even though everyone says I'm losing weight (have to if I want to stay off insulin) I still shouldn't have sucked down all that fat.

After we came home, I handed Jeffer the remote--him not having digital cable--& we decided to watch Scifi, specifically Andromeda & Stargate SG-1, which turned out to be a continued episode. Jeffer left around 11:00 & I took my meds & went to bed with my Lady Tron.

This morning I woke up around 7:30, but didn't get out of bed until 8:30, when I also roused Lady Tron from her slumbers. (She's the Bumble Bee Girl. She goes bouncy-bouncy.) I checked my email this morning--all spam save the sciencenews.org eletter, then surfed the darkening seas for awhile. God I wish I had a real atomic submarine. Maybe I can pick up an SSRI in the Fargo of the Invisible Landscape, when I go there Monday.

If you haven't bought a copy yet, click over to amazon.com & check out The Mind-Warp Era. It's a real hot book & the blowjobs are real atomic.

Give us this day our daily blog...

OK, so this isn't the best title; it would've been a good title if I'd written a post yesterday (Sunday), but Trish & I missed Church because she slept in--we both did. Here lately I've been oversleeping, & I don't know why, save perhaps I am entering another depression. Yesterday while Trish & I were watching TV--Charmed--when the episode was over at 8:00 I decided to simply take my pills, including my sleeping pills & melatonin, & go to bed. Trish wanted to stay up for awhile watching the Buffster kick ass on DVD (of course) so I crawled in bed; the Anne episode; heard most of it, then she woke me up to snuggle, in spite of which, I fell fast asleep; woke up to dance music on the DMX--we gotta really do something about our cable bill.

Of course, we will be able to afford more nice things once you buy my book, The Mind-Warp Era (under pen name W.C. Leadbeater) available at or from the publisher, . This hot book, begun as a memoir, details in sci-fi comic book lunacy the effects of bio-psych weapons on a near-future world.

waiting for the woman

Well, I haven't blogged in a coupla daze, & a lot has been happening. Or maybe not. I had a meeting with Mr. Vial over at Voc Rehab Monday--rescheduled from yesterday--& came to the conclusion that, being an insane science fiction author and remaining said may very well work out better for me than finding a job. Why? Because if I make more than $850 in a one-month period for 9 months in 5 years, they take away my benefits--which means paying all kinda buckadingdongs for meds... unless I can hit something big, which is where my lizard-thing comes in: I have a rough draft of a screenplay that I think I can sell; in the meantime, I'll continue working with Ted toward my goal of publication in Analog--you can help by buying my book, The Mind-Warp Era by (who else?) W.C. Leadbeater over at amazon.com.

But I digress. Trish left a little while ago, to go talk to the guy over at the church about some things that have been bothering her. I'd try to answer myself, but my line & the "official" line aren't always the same. So I'm waiting for her to return home. I also just gave her 5 buckadingdongs with which to buy fruit. I try to keep my Bumble Bee Girl eating healthy. It's so hard to stay slim on Zyprexa; believe me, I've been there.

At least I just received a note from Ted, that he had the latest draft of "Trinities"--which I did last nite, while waiting for Jeffer Auss--& would start working on it ASAP.

Once my sweet Bumble Bee Girl has left for work tonite (at McRonald's), I'll reread some more of LOTR. With the new movies all coming out & Cathy (yay Cathy!) finding my copies of the books while cleaning the porch, I decided to see what liberties had been taken with the text. And justice for all. Which reminds me, with the SSI/SSDI limitations on my income, I may end up not-publishing my Hog. Does anyone out there know what can be done with an Invisible Hog, apart from stick it between a couple comic book covers?

I have a Karmon-Hardon

I used to have a Harmon-Kardon receiver, later replaced by a power amp & quad preamp, back when I was in the City of Night--45 watts/channel for the receiver (most manufacturers would have rated it at 60); then I swapped it to Jerry when he moved into BJ--that mother was a conservative 60, more like 90. OK, so that's the source of the pun: I have this TA (stands for therapeutic aide & not tits-&-ass), Carmen, who had a major quarrel with my wife last week. Trish ended up in the hospital, BH, & they changed her meds around. Now, she feels hurt & sad--Carmen called up last weekend & said she could handle drinking pop with me at PJs, but couldn't go near Trish as "she might get jealous", which is a load of horse-shit. Maybe if it was a sexual thing... but now I feel Carmen's trying to put me into the middle of her & Trish. I don't like it--I'd rather have Cheri for a TA, & that's saying a lot for me as I hate Cheri's arguing. So I'm just going to relax & read my LOTR while Trish crochet's: it's her day off; give Carmen some time to cool off. Karen my Kaseworker will be coming by this morning to take us grocery shopping, & when Carmen calls, I'll just make up an excuse.

I'm also going to be looking up a phone number for NAMI, to see if they want to promote my book, The Mind-Warp Era (under my pen name W.C. "Lead" Leadbeater), something they've been loathe to do in the past, so I wanna have Dr. Vickie (& Mr. Vick) make the phone call.

If you haven't bought a copy yet, buy one today.

return of the random enumerations

As I write this marvel of marvels, Trisha the Insect Slayer has just stepped into the shower, having slept in this Saturday morning--it's around 10:00 AM, & I think maybe the reason she slept so long was because she might've taken an extra Zyprexa; she wasn't certain if she'd taken it or not & made sure she took it. I think her new diagnosis--bipolar--fits her better than unipolar, but I'm not certain Zyprexa is the best way to treat it; it makes you fat--I had to quit taking it when I developed Type II diabetes, in spite of which the stupid soup kitchen still gives me desserts--we go there days Perky Pam's Place is closed.

Trish does seem to have really improved since she left the Invisible Hospital; incarcerated there for loco brains last week. Even though she's working less hours (at McRonald's), she's been less concerned with money, cf, she decided on her own to wait 3 paychecks before buying Season 6 of the Buffster kicking the butts of bad-ass vampires; & why didn't they ever kill off Spike? I mean, what a worthless character.

Blanket-man & his wife (the non-Relationships Karen) remain an albatross for us. She's not a Vadisystem--not athletic enough, even if she's tall--but her paranoia, & the way it's fed into Dave's, keeps Trish & I from going over there very much. I'm tired of hearing how green tea is Windex & all this bullshit about herbal supplements; the only good herb is dem God-made herb (atomic reactor fuel; real atomic).

And so (it goes) Trish only has one day of work left. Tonight, with no Carmen, she'll be walking out in the rain, Montana thunderstorms, the mile to McRonald's, to sweep & mop the floor & work in the lobby. Since her hours have been cut to 3 a day, 5 daze a week--because of the stress that led to her nervous breakdown--she'll be home at 8:30, approximately, perhaps bearing a Bozo Burger.

We're going to spend the rest of the day relaxing, something I used to be good at in Nite City, when I was sailing the darkened seas every day; but I want to use some of the time to work on my Invisible Hog--I'm writing this cosmicomic about a cyborg motorcycle.

"Trinities" is still undergoing a re-make/re-model, the story of Rachel, a Ladytron among the stars. Ted Grosch & I began it in December, before my 2nd to the last eye surgery, God & I've had 10 of them & the only thing beyond God is Sisyphus. Since Stan Schmidt bounced it with a friendly note, & he looks at my re-makes/re-models (the Ladytron originated as Eve), I'll be resubmitting it, once we have a final draft. We're both in Critters Workshop--that's how we met--but decided not to have it Critter'd at the time, as I was afraid that the eye surgery would leave me near-blind while recuperating (I am blind in the other eye), & it took Stan 3 months to make up his mind, otherwise we would've gone thru & Critter'd it a long time ago. Mostly, at this stage, the religious ideas of the characters need to be fleshed out--after all, it is about religion. Some stupid junior high school student who's flunking science sent in a really nasty review, saying it wouldn't sell because it's about "religeon"; apparently, she's flunking English, too. A couple of the other comments made me mad, but I've learned that there's no point in arguing with Critters; it just alienates a potential audience & could possibly get you kicked off the group, if you're rude enough back.

Behavioral Health

Insanity will tear us apart... again; much like drugs in the old days: when the doobie's out, pass me the lighter, again...

So Trish had problems with her bipolar over the weekend. Friday, when it came time to pick up her McRonald's check (no, she doesn't flip Bozo burgers), Carmen, her ride, arrived a little late, so she threw a fit & hurt Carmen's feelings. When it became obvious that Trish needed to talk to Dr. Vickie (secret identity of Mr. Vick), Carmen & I had a pop at Taco Loco while Vickie calmed Trish down. The next day, when Carmen called to say that she didn't think Trish appreciated her, Trish overheard the conversartion from my end, & exploded. We tried to find someone to talk to Trish around noon, called Joe (Nobodaddy calls him by his last name), but Karen the Kaseworker suggested taking her to the Invisible Hospital. We had the Invisible Copz give us a ride up, then waited in the ER for the doctor to see her. At first he was reluctant to admit her, but she escalated on him; I think she scared him a little, so he called the consulting psychologist. When we were calling McDuck's, a nurse came in & shot Trish up with Atavan & told her she was being admitted.

The next couple daze were lonely & relaxing. It was good to be away from all the negativity, but I missed going bouncy-bouncy, & the cute girly-girl whose bodacious bodanon I'd wake up to every morning. Biggie invited me over for Sunday dinner, rare, since his own mental illness kicked in (catalyzed by Krazy Karen) & he gave me a ride up to the Invisible Hospital to see Trish. The next day Ed came up, & Kathy walked up. She gave Trish a new bear, which Trish named "Smelly Bear", because it had been soaked in perfume. Tuesday, Dr. Huffman released her, having put her back on Zyprexa--Doc Larocque tried to see if she could do without it--& reduced her thyroid; she was on waaaaaaay too much--which could've made her irritable. She seems happier, though she's needed her hours reduced, as she can't handle the stress.

Stay tuned for future installments from the root of the Rootboy, & buy my book, The Mind-Warp Era, under my pen-name W.C. Leadbeater, from .

Thanks, I needed that.

Days of future past

Hi, Everybodaddy,

Does Nobodaddy read this? Isn't this his job?


Anyway, I've been blogless for the last couple daze, maybe even a week, cuz I've been working on the MPC--the Most Productive Critter Award; I'm in this online writing workshop, Critters, & if you read/write 10 crits in a week, you get the award, which allows you to have your stuff bumped to the head of the queue. Now that summer's come rolling around, aburt's got out of town (Muhammad Ali likes the song, too), so I wanted to have my story looked at before the 4th of July, & spent a shitload of time working on the MPC. So far, though, I've only received one (1) review, & it wasn't even of the complete manuscript. Also, in the evening, I've been chatting with Joey, my Chinese girlfriend--3K for a round trip there; better off just sending pics & messages.

I'm a little pissed at the dread Blanket-man, though, or actually, his Karen Relationship. All he ever does is walk the dog & lay in bed, sick, & sex-up Krazy Karen; now, she claims he's too busy to put in the a/c, & it's supposed to reach 80 today & 87 tomorrow. Blanket-man used to always be helpful & work hard, then marriage? you wanna? changed him, not to mention the atomic bong. Ever since his Karen Relationship, his mental illness has been exacerbated, & he's totally paranoid & won't do anything about it cuz his wife thinks it's "a big conspiracy & a coverup". They run to the Invisible Health Food Store & buy herbs--stupid/hypocritical; she smokes--but won't see a doctor cuz--you guessed it--it's "a big conspiracy & a coverup". I hope they sail the Bobo Boat soon; certainly Biggie's sailed the darkened seas in a great big submarine long enough, not to mention being a Heavy Metal Addict from the planet Uranus.

Yesterday, I saw the eye doctor. So, like, yeah, I'm seeing eye doctors all the time as I've had glaucoma ever since I was a Jung lad, a student at the University of Nite City, to be precise. My eyes burned, the weed supplied me by Karmadharma & Bozo (not to be confused with the distinctively brown U-boat of Little Loathsome Lonnie) made the pain go away, so I put 2 & 2 together & came up with the dread mutant killer glaucoma, so-called because my Dad's eyes hemorrhaged & he bled to death.

I've just had my 10th surgery, in March, a tube shunt. The previous one was in December, when I was working on "Trinities". So I had a followup yesterday. Everything's fine, though I'm back to being maxed out on meds. The main thing is that Dr. Boes had an emergency surgery the morning he was supposed to drive up from the Fargo of the Invisible landscape, so he didn't arrive at Invisible City until after 4:00. People grumbled & complained, played musical chairs in the standing-room-only waiting room before his arrival. Certainly I moved around quite a bit as I had to use the bathroom several times; hypothalamic thirst, you know. Finally, around 6:00, I saw the doctor, pressure measurement, everything's fine--though he does want me to cut back on my fluids. & then I had to split because I had no time to waste. El Taco Loco provided a cheap supper, then over to Albertson's to pick up 3 'scripts & a box of cereal.

That's when the conflict with Karen began. I called up Biggie, who's always been helpful in the past & his wife picked up the phone; she babbled for 15 minutes--the woman never shuts up--then, when I asked for Dave's help, she told me how busy they are &c, which is a total lie. She sits on her butt all day while Biggie brushes the dog. Somehow, she even got on the good side of my mother--Union Maid--even though Karen calls herself "a recovering Catholic" & runs the church down at every opportunity available. I still need to talk to Dave about where he put the extension cord for the one air-conditioner. Karen promised to call back with that info, but didn't. I guess we'll just have to do it ourselves. The Blanket-man I knew most of my life wouldn't have acted this way; this woman polluted him, poisoned his mind.

Well, now, it's on to working on my Geocities site. I need to promote my book,
The Mind-Warp Era, under pen name W.C. Leadbeater (available at ). Since I published with iUniverse--at the behest of Heidi Hollis , all the promotion is, of necessity, self-promotion. Last week, before I started my MPC, I downloaded a pagebuilder program for my main site, but for now, I want to start a 2nd one, on Geocities, while the Mighty Insect Slayer watches her Buffy.

That's all for now.