Waffled (potty mouth)

Well that's as close an adjective I could come up with to describe what the cold, er flu has done to me the last week. The black elderberry might be a good preventative measue, but it did jack shit for me against this flu bug. I was bedridden Saturday and Sunday, only setting foot out of the house to search for Muscinex-D.

Now, I have a class A license to carry, which allows me to walk in and buy a handgun and ammo and walk out of the shop with it loaded on my person. But in this Nanny state I had to resort to fucking begging to buy cold medicine, because none of my ID's were good enough. I had a temp license from the RMV (while they printed my new one and mailed it to me), I had my expired license, I had my class A LTC, and I had my fucking PASSPORT. Yet none of these ID's were sufficient proof of my identity to buy cold medicine. Are you freaking kidding me?!?

It took 4 tries to buy cold medicine. With me hacking up technicolor phlegm in front of one pharmacist to allow me to buy the damn stuff with my plethora of ID's by scanning his own license into the damn register. I think it was on visit #3 to the pharmacy I snapped and was screaming how I could buy and carry a fucking assault rifle easier than cold medicine when they realized I was a tad out of it. I managed to leave before the cops showed up.

Anyway I'm feeling much better. I still have a bit of a cough but I no longer have that "microwaved dog vomit" feel of the flu. I'll be right as rain in time for Las Vegas. That's right! I'm going to Vegas, baby! Games, stogies, broads, and booze. Might be the last time to enjoy the city of sin before it all goes to hell. I do love that city, but my liver needs a big time-out for at least a month afterwords. Yeah I could be a "better man" and not drink and smoke obnoxious foot long cigars, and enjoy the company of morally ambiguous cougars or coeds with "daddy issues", but I'm a single guy so I'm guessing you are all just jealous.

I've been watching the financial news with the dawning understanding of what it's like to be a vulture watching some poor zebra wander around dying from thirst. The anticipation of the collapse is like the salty taste of blood on the lips. It's like we are cresting the middle hump of this 'w' shaped recovery and I want to yell "WHHHEEEEEEEEEEE" like we are on some kind of roller-coaster and not the collapse of our economy. This is what Tyler Durden felt as the bombs went off.

I finished Thomas Paine's Common Sense and Rights of Man on the ride home last night. Although both give excellent insight into the time when we were writing the Constitution and the issues our forebears were dealing with, I find that it wasn't as applicable to today as I hoped. Granted there are some great ideas in there, but reading through page after page of his assault onto the idea of a monarchy was a bit dull, to put it kindly. I found that Common Sense was a more applicable, and I encourage everyone to give it a read. It's only 52 pages in the edition I have, so it's not too bad. Here is a quote:

[...] and that the elected might never form unto themselves an interest separate from the electors, prudence will point out that propriety of having elections often: because the elected might by that means return and mix again with the general body of the electors in a few months, their fidelity to the public will be secured by the prudent reflection of not making a rod for themselves.

I wonder how many of the nitwits in Congress ever read this? Our representatives represent nothing but the special interests. They represent those who can keep them in power. They represent those whose image they can use to manipulate the polls, and buy votes with guilt. I am not a violent man, I wish to do no harm to anyone, but the idea of these robber barons drunk with their own power makes me wish to drive to DC with nothing on but a banana hammock and galoshes, and beat the piss out of every one of those shitheads (save one) with a baseball bat.

I managed to get further along in the novel while sick, but after proofreading it on the train ride in it has to be all scrapped because NyQuil does some fucked up things to your brain. None of it made a lick of sense, especially the Balrog manning a checkpoint at Rt. 90... (Note: don't watch the Lord Of The Rings trilogy while bedridden and try to write anything while on cold meds.)

PS - after re-reading this post I realize I'm still pretty out of it. I wonder if this is what mescaline is like. Maybe Musinex-D is recreational, and not used to make meth, and that is why it's restricted. Anyway I'm going to watch my screen saver for the next hour check it out at: electricsheep.org