A Karen Relationship?

I'm so pissed off at my sister-in-law, Dave's Karen, right now. She's taken what was once a way-cool guy & turned him into a pussy-whipped paranoid nut-case. I think I wrote a blog about Labor Day, when she walked out on us over "herbs", because we wouldn't agree with her stupid opinion that "addictive antidepressants like Xanax & Zoloft ruin lives". For one thing, the dumb fuck should realize that Trish is taking Zoloft, & how did it ruin her life? Rather than "ruining" it, the med has had remarkable transforming power, & saved her from constantly being suicidal, & fuck the herbs, St. John's wort is bullshit.

But I realize that you can't keep everyone from being in general nutty, so we shouldn't allow a difference of opinion, no matter how stupid the woman is--& I stress stupid--ruin our relationship with my brother, even though the only way he can regain his sanity is to divorce the bitch. So I thought the other day that I'd fixed things up by offering to donate him a wiretap detector--like there's a realistic chance there's actually a "government wiretap" on his phone--but today when we called he just said, "We're busy" & hung up.

The problem is, even though he ate with us on Labor Day--though not without becoming paranoid about the "media blackouts"--& was nice enough to come try to start Trish's car for her, Karen has had 2 weeks to control him, & convince him he should reject his own brother over his need for "addictive antidepressants" rather than "herbs which have been studied in China for 6,000 years". Screw the bitch. She's stupid anyway. Like she goes around telling everyone that she was a paralegal when she worked at Legal Services, when actually she was simply the secretary.

Damn it, I want my brother back, not the paranoid nut who believes the government is spying on him, but that ain't gonna happen until he & his wife get onto some "addictive antidepressants" & stop believing all this herb crap.

Return of the Rez Erection

Hello, Mr. Blog, & Katrina, if you are reading this, & to anyone else who cares... so yesterday at work Trish stayed late to talk to the boss about the wishy-washy man who pulled a boner: at her company party. Monday evening at the Invisible Bowling Alley this bozo who was sitting next to us said, "I hear you're into group sex. Why not try some of mine?" This offended both of us terribly, so we left the party early. When I thought about it, I decided to ask the Mighty Insect Slayer, in her new incarnation as the Lady Tron, to report it as sexual harrassment. Wishbone's reply was, "I'm a Christian & would never do a thing like that". This just suggests to me he's like a Vadisystem; you hypocrite collector, you are a walking antique. He can take his damn erection back to the congregation & stick it in the rectum-site.

Wishbone Rez Erection

Trish & I went to a McRonald's party out at the Invisible Bowling Alley last nite, but left early cuz it was perfectly boring. We were worried about finding a ride, Carmen was sick, Trisha couldn't do it unless right after she closed the Perky Pam Layout (we had sketti & meatballs) & Brawny didn't wanna do it However, Lisa (the Cult Jammer) gave us a ride in her trusty batmobile; fear & loathing in the batmobile (it's still on the web at www.onewest.net/~jbauer/batmans.car) but the party soon turned out to be perfectly boring. We had to stand around the parking lot of the Invisible Bowling Alley, which I guess is better than stumbling thru the parking lot of the Invisible 7-11. waiting for the owner to come up & open the place. Lisa had brought along a huge bag of candy so we had a couple Whoppers. Then the place finally opened & the pizza arrived so I had pepperoni for a change, as Trish hates it.

Lenica was nice to us, but then this fag Indian, Wishbone, who deserves to be scattered on Dawn's Highway bleeding, showed up. He turned to us & said, "I heard you guys are into group sex. Why don't you try some of mine?" I don't know where this damn horny faggot buttfucker gets his ideas, but we don't do mfm 3-somes & even if we did I'd refuse to blow his scrofulous woody. It sounds like the creep is Mr. Fruity. He can go fuck himself; Trish is the only one I go bouncy-bouncy for; now I have found my girl.

I needed a Carmen & one who could drive

Hello, Mr. Journal that no one reads--wish that wouldn't've happened when I was in the City of Night. As you're well aware, the Bozo Boys from Alfalfa High went thru my drawers when I was living in Hunter S. Thompson House & discovered that I exasperate VADIS. Whatever you want to know about VADIS, you can find in The Mind-Warp Era, my hot book about psionic satellites & an entire world gone mad from WMD.

Katrina is finally back to being friends with us. It was all a huge mistake. She wasn't writing about Trish & I; she was writing about someone else's wife. We promised to call her over the weekend on the calling card, & it's probably going to turn out to be real atomic. This woman has been pursuing a modeling career & would look good at www.trashy.com; where sexy slimchicks parade around in trashy lingerie.

Yesterday, my office chair finally busted, so while I was at the Perky Pam Layout I called Orifice Equipment; they wanted 90 buckadingdongs for a new one. Kame-Apart was a little more reasonable, but Bi-Mart had them for only 25 buckadingdongs. (Gay-Mart & Str8-Mart fused to create Bi-Mart.) Carmen took me up there during our TA time subsequent to her sister, Purky Pam, putting a spike into my vein. We spent some time at the Gallery discussing my sister-in-law, the herbal nutcase, then went over & bought the chair. I couldn't assemble it myself--no tools--so she came back around 8:30 & we finally figured out how to get it together from the rather murky instructions. I asked if she could give Trish a ride home from McRonald's, & she begged off, saying she had to meet someone. I started watching sitcoms on cable, when all of a sudden the door opened--Carmen had surprised me by picking her up anyway.

I've really been blocked on writing for the last couple days, so I'm going to go thru Ted's stuff & re-make/re-model it. I need a Ladytron! Or a Bogus Man. In every dream home a heartache. Actually, Trish will be in the next MisCon masquerade as the Lady Tron, but we're not going to MisCon until after we've visited my mother in Chicago, cuz her basular syndrome is worsening & she's hallucinating & her short-term memory's shot. Fearless Taco insists that I can't stay with him while we're out there, but that's probably Marianne-with-the-shaky-hands talking, the same way Biggie lets Karen control him. His orgasm needs death.

Katrina & the Waves

Yet another entry for the never-ending journal on the edge of time, first of its kind since I burned the one NORML & the Bozo Boys at Alfalfa High raped my innocence with napalm fire over because of the Vast Active Destructive Intelligence System. Today's concerns the way-cute woman, Katrina, that I met online about a week ago. We'd really been hitting it off, off & on--she seems to vacillate between being friendly & being angry, & I'm constantly apologizing for weird letters: all manic-depressives write weird letters; the problem is in sending them. She sent us her phone number & we called & talked for half an hour. So the next day I looked at her own never-ending journal, which she writes in a lot more than I do, & she said she'd been "woke up in the middle of the night by some guy's wife", so I fired off an angry tirade & now I'm hoping she doesn't reject us entirely, as it turns out she wrote about some other guy's wife. This is good, since I don't like losing friends & was wondering where all the sarcasm was coming from.

Labor Day was also kind of bad. Biggie had invited us over to Blanket Avenue for dinner, but before we ate, while we were just visiting, Karen started in running down "addictive antidepressants" like "Xanax & Zoloft" & saying that they "ruin lives". I told her Zoloft is not addictive, & then she claimed it's "quite dangerous to internal organs", which is like, where did she get her MD? Probably in China--though even the Chinese know better than to trust in folklore these days--as she started defending herbal medication, & saying "they've been studied in China for 6,000 years"--but I'm getting ahead of myself; first I told her that herbs are a crock of shit--& I meant it--cuz they're unstudied & the manufacturers of this shit don't even have to prove they're not dangerous, as long as they slap on a label saying it's a "dietary supplement", & then she got into Chinese medicine, which I pointed out is not science as they do not use the scientific method. So I told her, as far as not-proving they're not dangerous goes, I'd read on www.sciencnews.org that a lot of transplant patients started dying after taking St. John's wort cuz of interactions. She said, "the first rule of taking herbs is that you don't take them with chemicals" & I told her that the body can't discriminate between natural & artificial; a drug is a drug. She said, "I think your body can tell" & when I said it can't, she ran off without even eating with us. We had an OK dinner without Dave blathering too much about the government conspiracies, & he was nice enough to try to jump Trish's car after we got home, but I really think I'm not going back over there until that damn nut-case I have for a sister-in-law starts taking some medicine herself. If nothing else, I'll have to tell Dave to tell her not to run Zoloft down, as Trish has to take it, & no goddamn fucking herbs are going to stop her from committing suicide if she goes off it. It won't do any good, though; Dave is pussy-whipped.

general discussions of diverse issues

God & it's been a difficult time for the 2 of us. I think I blogged last last week--this blog's nothing like the never-ending journal I kept in college, till NORML & Bozo deliberately mind-fucked me by conning me into drinking vodka after I OD'ed on acid: innocence raped with napalm fire.

So first, my brother's dog died. Precious was a terribly intelligent & extremely loyal shih tzu that Dave rescued from his former boss out in Gildford. She used to always jump up in Mother's lap when she was sitting in her comfy chair, & I'll always have that image in my mind. Mostly, some photographer at the Invisible Daily snapped a pic of her walking the dog & ran it on the front page of the paper (small town papers are like that); Ed & Denise framed it & gave it to us last X-mas.

So then yesterday morning, I went to see Dr Boes. He comes up from Electric City once a month to see patients at the Invisible Optometric Clinic. It turned out that the pressure was too low in my left eye. He said that tube shunts often undergo a hypertensive phase which he believes is now over. He took me off 2 of the 3 drops I'm on--the other eye remains the same--& I see Dr. Stremcha Tuesday to see if he should drop the Cosopt as well. Since I'm blind in the other eye I don't want anything to happen to this eye.

Then the plumber came over. We'd first noticed the problem--tree roots clogging the line--last Saturday, when we went downstairs to watch Trish's Buffy. Some of her new 6th season discs don't play on my DVD player, but do on hers. We noticed water on the floor & sand in the bathtub, but it took forever for Wagner to get around to it & Karen, our Kaseworker, insisted on us working with him. The guy inserted a new elbow (I think that's what they're called) & snaked out the sewer, but said he had no idea what the bill would be. He charges $50 an hour for labor, so that part was $75; he wanted $75 for the snake; but he said he didn't know what the parts would come to, as his boss is in charge of that. So we're looking at around $200, & Trish doesn't have all that much in the McRonald's account.

& now Katrina's mad at me for discussing sex with her. She's this way-cute bi/lesbian girl I met at Hotornot.com (my pic rates as about average), & unlike a lot of women with her sexual preference, she isn't unwilling to talk to men. But she's afraid of men because she's been raped, & I was just trying to reassure her, but I guess I did it in the wrong fashion. So I sent her an apology & a lot of personal stuff to discuss rather than sex in my last note. I plan to give her the address of this blog once I'm more secure with her as I'm afraid she'll reject me for having a mental illness. If everything turns out, she should be reading this entry in a couple days (hi, Katrina!). If you don't already have a copy, buy my book, The Mind-Warp Era by (pen name) W.C. Leadbeater. It's available at amazon.com.