Tuesday, June 13, 2023


Had there been a spy on the wall here, it would have been treated to the sight, several times today, of a middle-aged Dutchman reading the riot act to a device. That being me interacting with my cell-phone, which delivers messages from all parts of the country which start with a recorded voice that will inevitably segue to a live human being trying to sell me continuing care insurance, end of life and funeral expense coverage, or neat-o-keen pricing on funeral plots. My number is on a list which has been circulated widely, that's number one, to interest groups with quite the wrong focus, number two, that have staff in Southern India or Pakistan, number three, and route their sales calls through outfits in Alabama, Georgia, and Mississippi. Number five.

Reason being that at one point I tried to get dental insurance.

This is not significantly better than Steve your neighborhood airduct service or James trying to contact me about the extended warranty on my vehicle. I have not had a vehicle in decades, and airducts are for rich people.

Thanks to the Republicans being in the pocket of corporations, no one in this country actually has dental coverage. Our teeth will eventually look quite British.
I, however, have a hot cup of tea. And sporadic bouts of vertigo.
So I'm hepped, wide awake, and have a horrid attitude.
Don't know anyone in Alabama. Piss off!

First food in over forty eight hours. Coffee and tea have been regular, so I'm not particularly sick. But the vertigo is hampering my style. If I loose my balance in public and keel over, the people on the bus will strip my body of clothes, usable organs, and credit cards before the next stop.

Haven't smoked a pipe since Sunday, and I need a shower.
That, too, is contributing to my horrid attitude.
The spy on the wall is amused.

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