Cold as ice

Life has been fairly good, especially with some promise of spring on the horizon. RA has been bothering me less than it has in several years, and that in itself is very pleasing; at least the pain is not constant. RA works in a funny way; a place that was excruciating with misery one day may not give me trouble again for months or longer, but another joint immediately begins complaining. The hell of it is, even though it is considered a disease of the joint tissue, it can and does attack similar tissues throughout the body, including eye and heart linings. It can be deadly, but then again—and especially after one turns 60 years of age—straining to fart can put one in a coffin. The RA hurt generally boils down to pain in the joints themselves with extreme soreness in surrounding soft tissues, and actually all over the body.
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Another shot day has eased by. My regular nurse was busy and the other one stuck me, but it didn't hurt. I've had many, many hundreds of shots over my brilliant medical career, and I've had a few that really hurt, but none of them ever pained as much as a sharp tongue, especially the tongue of someone considered as a friend. However, when the source is looked at closely, sometimes one finds that true friends are more deeds than words, and that the pseudo-friend was a complete user with little to give. Fear not, dear readers; rest assured it was not one of you whom stepped on my toes. No more to say about this subject, at least not on this blog and on not this day.
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I stopped by the park for a few moments after leaving the doc's office, hoping a world-class photo would jump out of the bushes and into the camera, but alas, it was not to be. There are a number of good things about living in a college town, and one of them is the huge number of pretty young ladies whom get out and run on a beautiful day such as this. Lovely little butts swinging in stride, and wondrous breasts swaying to and fro. I always smile my brightest grin, and sometimes one of them will smile back as I try to dodge a lamp post from hitting the car.
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I need to find some new reading material; I've read everything in this house there is to read ... many times. How many times can a person read a toothpaste tube while sitting on the throne? I've read my camera manual so much I should know how to take pictures with the machine, but then I pull up my pants and go out into the real world and can't figure what the hell that little green button is for.
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Enough belly aching for one day. On to the good stuff.
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Be sure to check out #15 in this weeks Smoking Gun's Mug Shots of the Week!

Musings

This year has quickly slipped by ...


Another shot day has rolled around, and I must also see the RA doctor this afternoon for a checkup. I was supposed to see my family doctor for a six month check up this morning, but her office phoned yesterday and said she is ill and postponed me until December. This will make more than a year since I've seen her. My last appointment in April was postponed until now because my doctor was ill. I think I see the light! She checks her appointment list, sees my name and gets sick. I make a lot of people sick.
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I suspect that between McCain and Obama, more than a billion dollars will be spent in purchasing the presidency. Directly or indirectly, this is money that was hard earned by taxpayers, and I don't hear either candidate giving more than lip service to campaign reform. Our nation should not be allowing this deceit to go on. At least Sarah Palin got a new wardrobe.
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Why is the stock market still in free fall after having been given all that bailout money to help bolster it? Glad you asked. The market itself did not get the money; it has to wait for the old Republican whimsey of trickle-down economics to bolster it. Big time movers and shakers are getting the cash infusions from our treasury.
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Alan Greenspan, the former Fed chairman that helped W create this financial crisis, is saying it isn't his fault, but that his thinking was flawed. Rocks don't float!

Actually, ordinary citizens are the only ones whom face a crisis. The super rich could care less about anyone's economy. The ordinary rich will benefit from this; some as the meltdown happens, and others on down the road. I've never seen a poor or middle class rich person, and the smart money stays with the smart rich.