One of the though east parts of this crap is......well.....crap.
I got a lot of vistors the last two days. Basiclly they babysat me while Lisa ran around doing errands. There as my best friend Vito, my upstairs neighbor, our great friends Amy and chuck and a famous TV personality. They all sat with me and most of the time i was waiting to take a dump in the potty.
Being sick is no fun.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
22 comments:
Trooper, This indignity is a tough one. But, you're a tough guy. Just let the shit out, the one from your ass and the shit from resenting this indignity. Better out than in. You can vent here.
Hang in there, my friend.
Is someone with you 24/7?
What about Borgnine therapy?
No, Pal, it's a bummer.
Bear with it, it gets easier.
I think about you a lot.
CMC
Forget the chemical poop enhancing pills.
You need some Haribo Sugarless Gummi Bears.
And you need some laughter, so read these reviews of Haribo Sugarless Gummi Bears posted on Amazon dot com. Your ribs will ache.
The Cracker wrote:
"So I found out yesterday another online friend is injured. Everyone's over there, offering to do what they can, even though he owns a business and is probably covered in every way. They paid for Ann Althouse's floor. And I saw this same crew save a guy's life not too long ago - not like the guy who got $92,000 anonymously for not stealing - but he's not at risk of being homeless no more. He's a gay artist who was accused of stealing.
And then there's me. Few visitors, little help, but buckets of harassment.
I'll get out of this myself."
See that you do.
And one more thing, why didn't the slaves that raised you teach you how to support yourself?
They were in the room with you while you were pooping? Are you LBJ now?
And yeah...what Sixty asked too.
And I saw this same crew save a guy's life not too long ago - not like the guy who got $92,000 anonymously for not stealing - but he's not at risk of being homeless no more.
WTF?
I'm still homeless (as in, still staying in other people's homes, with no dwelling of my own), I'm still in financial trouble, my storage unit is again due to be auctioned off (they don't let you slide even a month), I had to take medical leave from my job because of depression. Where the fuck did you get the idea that I'm on easy street?
Jesus Christ.
And what the fuck does me being gay have to do with anything?
You know, the people who helped me out over the summer didn't do it because of Laurence Meade's accusations. They did it because they're good people, which is why they've been here for Trooper during his medical ordeal.
Paid for Ann Althouse's floor?????
WTH????
The Intro to the heart failure book I took off the shelf the other day ends with these words:
...this book addresses those thoughts that come in the middle of the night to those who fight breathlessness, to those who hear them fighting, and to those who do not. This book reminds and reassures us that we are not alone.
So does this blog.
See--I posted this yesterday. I copy and pasted the part Sixty did, I included the link and everything. Then I deleted it a couple of minutes later cuz I didn't want to indirectly hurt P.again.
But Crackers is a bitter person who's being consumed by it.
I think I'm going to heed both Trooper and Nick's advice, offered separately--basically, maybe notice him, feel a pang of pity for him, let it go and move on.
Otherwise, his form of bitterness is a ravening cancer that will consume those it infects.
I know, I've been there and still occasionally struggle with it.
And I've tried to warn Crack about it, but he only laughs and mocks. So there's no point.
I cut and pasted because Cracker left that piece of shit comment here. Fuck him - he is so phony and such a liar that I cannot let him just post and run. Stupid bitch needs to know that we know.
Cracker loves him some new age and boomer stuff, too, so he already knows everything. We can't teach him - and apparently he has resisted learning anything useful his entire pointless and bitter life.
Sixty, I understand why you did it and don't blame you for doing it.
What about Borgnine therapy?
If Troop's up, so to speak, for Borgnine therapy, the worst is surely over, yes?
MamaM said...
This book [on heart therapy] reminds and reassures us that we are not alone.
So does this blog.
When you walk through a storm
Keep your chin up high
And don't be afraid of the dark,
At the end of the storm
Is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark,
Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain,
Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown,
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never walk alone.
Ya know, it's the easiest thing in the world to make fun of schmaltzy words, but at times schmaltzy is just the ticket. Richard Rogers music also helped a lot.
From Carousel, R & H's best work in my opinion.
Oops, Rodgers.
When we face a life crisis, we all deal with things differently. Being homeless, having serious medical issues, death, divorce....whatever. I'm not about to criticize how people deal. I may not understand how people think or deal with crisis but it isn't my place to criticize. It isn't even my place to offer 'unsolicited' advice. It will take strength for Trooper and Lisa to face the changes and adapt. It takes a great deal of fortitude to overcome depression. It is also wonderful to have friends on whom you can lean for a while.
Personally, I deal with adversity by kicking it in the teeth. I wallowed in pity for a short period of time, (and may do so again) but then realized that no one cares about my personal pity party and that the only person who can truly change my situation is ME. Also, that there is not a magical pill or overnight cure for adversity.
the end.
When you guys keep talking about Bornine therapy...you want him to get drunk and marry Ethel Merman?
That just sounds like something that makes a surly black man with a lubricated finger sound appealing.
You are the first to mention lube, just sayin'.
I have to mention lube, Sixty, my own annual physical takes place Wednesday morning bright and early.
I had my old NP trained--she didn't like doing the finger thing and I didn't like getting it. We had a swell arrangement. She'd cup my nuts and ask if I had trouble emptying my bladder completely, I'd say no and she'd nod and write a note and tell me to pull up my damn pants.
This new one I haven't met yet but she's young and appears to be an overachiever.
At least she's got nice small pretty white girl fingers. No big black child of former slave hands for this girl.
Post a Comment