We're on the road to nowhere....

...Without A Paddle.

Lots to say, but the overwhelming desire to sleep demands that I make it brief.

A week or so ago I got a letter from Ortho-Macneil. They're the pharmacuetical company that has furnished one of my epilepsy drugs for free for a couple of years. The letter was saying, in no uncertain terms, that they were cutting me off. This is one drug, in two sizes. 50 miligram and 100 miligram. They cut me off. Today my mom called my pharmacy to see how much money I'll be paying for all of my drugs, monthly. The total came out to something over $750.00. Keep in mind that I have insurance. It's just that the insurance only pays so much per year before they cut me off, too. Well, they've paid it. So I'm looking at paying $750.00+ per month if I want to keep my head in any kind of working order. We're calling everyone we can to try and get this knocked down, but it doesn't seem to be helping. No one wants to help.

Sometime in the middle of all of this, I joked, "Maybe I should move to Canada." I make that joke a lot. Mom replied, in a serious tone, "Maybe you should." Go figure.

Second, I bought The Hulk today, but I'm in no rush to watch it. I'm very tired. Harsh day, and I'm stoned on cold medicine and a bit of alcohol. I recall being fairly disappointed in the movie, but I was still excited enough to buy it on the first day it was released. I bought it at Wal-Mart, because it was seven bucks cheaper than the next closest place to the office that sells DVDS, a Warehouse Music across the street from the Wal Mart. Seven bucks is pretty cheap. But even though I saved seven bucks, I compromised my morality a bit. I recall seeing in the news recently that several hundred illegal immagrants were arrested for working at Wal-Mart. Now tell me. Didn't Wal-Mart claim to be all about the United States a few years back? Hm. Pretty god damn patriotic, hiring illegals. Actually, it could be argued that it IS patriotic. After all, the country's built upon the shitpeoples that several nations didn't want. Or vice versa. "Give me your weak, your poor," and all that jazz. Illegal immigrants are certainly that. Naturalization's overrated. All the same, take a bath, you filthy fuckers, and stop layin' around in front of our fuckin' office...

And be damned if I'm saying "The more the merrier." I thought it was a great moment in comic book history when Thanos killed half the universe. That's a great way to reduce overpopulation. Give the Infinity Gauntlet to a purple fucker with a bad botox injection and an infatuation with Death Herself and see what happens. ZAM! Half the people are gone. You might be one of them, but them's the breaks. I'm tired of traffic. I would have done it too. Wipe out half the people in the universe and you don't have to worry about traffic anymore. Of course, if you do it at random you risk losing a lot of cool fuckin' people... Would being able to drive freely, making nearly every interstate into an autobahn, be worth taking out so many great artists? Hm. It might be. It just might be. Because not only would you take out artists, but you'd take out fuckers as well. Or maybe you could pick and choose. Hell, you have the Infinity Gauntlet. You could stop time while you went through everyone on the planet and chose who would disappear into oblivion and who would stick around. And who would be in your harem. Fuck right. Thanos... he got it all wrong. He didn't plan it out. He should've taken all the good guys out first. The second he gets the Gauntlet, use the Time Gem, ZAM, time's stopped, use the Reality gem to zap all the good guys, especially that pesky Warlock, out of existance. Except Psylocke. Keep her fine Ninja ass around....

While I'm talking about death and comics, I had an idea last night. Kind of brought on by the small rant I wrote about the Nebula song, and kind of inspired by Warren Ellis's journal, in which he's writing Spider Jerusalem stories. (You can find it here.) See, in the Nebula rant I mentioned the Short and Snappy Tales of Death. I used to love writing those things. I don't think they were too popular, but I don't care. I loved the hell out of 'em. A great release. And Warren's idea of using a journal as a tool for writing is nice. So I stole it. So I made a journal. It looks like shit, because I haven't spent any time on it, and there's nothing there, because I haven't written in it. But rest assured, when I do, you will know. It can be found here: The Short and Snappy Tales of Death. My feelings won't be hurt if you don't read this, nor will they be hurt if you don't like it. This is just going to be an avenue for me to get back into writing after a lengthly absence. It's going to be rough and horrible and there's no real point to it. It's not gonna be art.

Anyway. I'll write something and stick it in there eventually. Mofo showed me a picture of a guy who got his legs eaten by a bear today, which reminded me of my first Short and Snappy Tale of Death: Devil Bear. That makes me want to re-write it. But not right now. Right now I sleep.