Social Media


Before Christmas, my mom said that she had a sinus infection, so I knew that I, at some point, would also have a sinus infection. I know that they aren’t supposed to be contagious, but my immune system has yet to figure that out. Well, a couple of days after Christmas, it finally showed up. It seemed to be really nasty on Tuesday, almost gone on Wednesday, and back by Thursday. But when I woke up on Friday morning, I knew something was horribly off. I was coughing more than I usually do, which is pretty amazing considering that I cough on a daily basis. My left eye was runny. At first I thought it was just tears from the pressure of the infection, until I decided to wipe my eye with a facial tissue.12 It wasn’t tears. It was pus. As the night went on, my eye kept getting more red. My cough was also increasing and I was starting to have trouble breathing.3 I went to bed and was trying to get comfortable but I just couldn’t breathe. Eventually, I called the on-call doctor and she told me to get my butt to the ER for a breathing treatment. Unfortunately, getting to the ER at about 4:30 in the morning is not the best way to get quick treatment. Most of the ER shuts down after midnight until 8 in the morning, even on the last weekend of the year. I was triaged quickly and had an X-ray, blood work, and EKG hours before a bed was available for my butt. I waited around 4 hours for that bed and my breathing just kept feeling like it was getting worse; my eye was also getting more nasty by the minute. Oh, and my infamous cough was starting to scare everyone in the waiting room. When I first got to the ER, one or two people had on masks. By the time I was called back to a room, almost everyone had one on. I honestly started to empathize with Typhoid Mary at that point. It’s odd to be treated like a biohazard when you can’t breathe. After the sun came out and the television had gone from infomercials & overnight news to Saturday morning children’s programs, I was called back to a room. It was another hour before I had my breathing treatment, and another hour after that before the doctor could secure the “eye room” to do a proper examination of my eye. He4 wasn’t sure if the conjunctivitis had caused any lasting damage to my eye, so he wanted to view it under a slit lamp. The room was empty and across the hall, so I’m not totally sure why it took so long or why, after it was over, I wasn’t allowed to just walk right back across the hall to my assigned bed. While I was in the eye room, the nurse brought me three 20mg prednisone tablets. She kept asking later if the steroids were helping. I kept responding that I couldn’t tell if the steroid was working, but that I knew that the breathing treatment had helped. By noon, I was being discharged with a diagnosis of conjunctivitis and bronchitis. I also had a prescription for the ophthalmic version of Neosporin ointment.5 I didn’t have any prescriptions for the bronchitis. I guess that they thought they had done enough to help get that under control.6 Since it was a holiday weekend, I couldn’t get in to see the family doctor until at least Tuesday, so I was trying desperately to make it through without going to the hospital again. There were a few times when I didn’t think I would make it. But I did. Instead of getting a Tuesday appointment, I got a Wednesday one and the family doctor, who I don’t always agree with, agreed with my belief that the Emergency Room doctor should have given me a prescription for another 4 days worth of prednisone. Because it had been five days since the initial dose, he had to start me on a new 5 day course of the drug. He also told me to use my inhaler regularly until I was feeling better. I’ve spent most of the last week just trying to pass the time. I’ve been avoiding social media and anything that required any real energy usage. I became even more of a recluse with a sad, unfulfilling life7 and a penchant for tantrums89 while I was recovering. Kidding.10 Fancy talk for a Kleenex. ↩Really fancy talk for a Kleenex from a Star Wars box. ↩No, I don’t always have trouble breathing when I cough. I cough like healthy people do healthy stuff. Cough variant asthma is the funnest. ↩Yeah, I never got to see the on-call doctor I had talked to on the phone. ↩No, really. ↩They hadn’t. ↩Did I mention that that creep has a reference to me in his Twitter bio? ↩Oh, he had more words for me after I turned down his altruistic offer of a possible book deal: I tried at least. BTW, I’ve been a pro writer since 1983. You have no idea how much damage you’ve done to your writing career before it even got started. No agent, no publisher, will want to deal with someone who intends to damage another writer’s sales over a disagreement on social media. They’d be too worried you would do the same to them if you ever got mad at them. Easier to give you a form rejection and move on. And trust me, this little tantrum you threw on Goodreads is going to be seen by every agent and publisher you submit to when they Google your name. Good luck with your career. I think you’re going to need it. Yep. Now he wants me to be afraid that I will never be published because I didn’t take kindly to his insults and his tacit support of a friend’s outright bigotry. ↩It takes chutzpah to say a woman would be a […]

From My Sinuses, With Love


Well, Richard Paolinelli decided to offer me a shot at being published by his company because he’s determined that I have a sad, unfulfilling life. He probably won’t understand why I rejected his condescending, passive-aggressive offer, even though I think I explained it pretty well: That’s an interesting telling of this tale, Richard. I was the one who had been insulted and attacked on Twitter. After I wrote a tweet that he didn’t agree with, he said I was a man, he said I was incapable of thinking, etc. He had repeatedly called me names and had made racist & sexist remarks toward a friend of mine. I pointed this out to you and you started making sexist remarks toward me. No, I didn’t respect your friend after he began harassing me. No length of time in the military excuses harassment. I don’t know anyone by the name of Johnny Walker and I don’t have troll accounts. I did put you on a will-not-read and my author-boycott lists, but that shouldn’t bother you. (It also shouldn’t bother you that Anne Rice or Brad Thor is on that list, and I won’t explain why any of them are on the list because it’s not your business. Just know that I keep that list so that I personally know which authors I don’t want to read.) You had already said that you didn’t want me or my friends to read any of your work. I would love to know who your fellow author-friends are, especially if they’re making determinations about my life that are obviously very flawed. One could say that maybe the reason that I’m so busy is that I design jewelry and am the sole caregiver to a mother with kidney failure and a father with dementia, but that would require one to actually put forth a little more effort than just reading a years-old bio on Goodreads. I don’t care that you pity me. I don’t want to have a hand-up or a hand-out from you because I don’t trust you. You have done nothing to make me think that you’ll actually help. If/when I decide to finish my books and try to get an agent and a publisher, then I want to do it on my own. P.S.: It’s Alabamian, not Alabaman. I also posted this on Goodreads:  I didn’t realize that it was consider “trolling” to have a will-not-read or an author-boycott shelf on Goodreads. Here I thought it was my way of keeping track of the books that I will not read and the authors that I will not read. Apparently a particular author who I recently added to that list decided to label it as such and accused me of giving him fake 1-star reviews. (I didn’t rate any of the books.) I really don’t get why he thinks it’s any of his business who is on my will-not-read and author-boycott lists. Whether he’s on the lists or someone else in on the list, it really isn’t his concern. Also, most authors know that it’s not the best idea to publicly balk at being on a person’s author-boycott or will-not-read list. That tends to lead to more people adding you to their lists and to weird scandals a la Kathleen Hale’s reverse Misery stunt. I never give fake reviews. I used one book to explain why I was adding him to the list. I didn’t rate the book because I haven’t read the book in whole or in part. (I’ve been nervous about rating books that I marked as will-not-finish because I don’t want to give a fake rating.) I’ve seen some authors who think that any review under 4-5 stars is fake. That’s not true. Some people just don’t like your books. People are entitled to opinions about your works. They don’t have to be positive ones. And they are entitled to share those opinions with their friends and family members…and total strangers. And a person can like some of your books and still decide to boycott you. Books by Charlaine Harris that I haven’t read are marked as will-not-read. Books by her that I have and have not read are marked as author-boycott because I chose to quit reading her books. That’s a right that I have as a reader and as a consumer. I get to decide how I spend my money and my time. If an author doesn’t like being on that list, then they probably should just avoid looking at the list. I really wish that authors who behave badly would stop pretending like they’re victims when readers say that they want nothing to do with them anymore.

Poor Richard’s Attitude   Recently updated!



It’s that time of year again. Time for the Holiday_Wishes Meme. Yay! STEP ONE – Make a post (public, friendslocked, filtered…whatever you’re comfortable with) to your blog/LJ. The post should contain your list of 10 holiday wishes. The wishes can be anything at all, from simple and fandom-related (“I’d love a Snape/Hermione icon that’s just for me”) to medium (“I wish for _____ on DVD”) to really big (“All I want for Christmas is a new car/computer/house/TV.”) The important thing is, make sure these wishes are things you really, truly want. – If you wish for real life things (not fics or icons), make sure you include some sort of contact info in your post, whether it’s your address or just your email address where Santa (or one of his elves) could get in touch with you. [Note: Your home address is not required!] – Also, make sure you post some version of these guidelines in your blog, or link to this post (it’ll be public) so that the holiday joy will spread. STEP TWO – Surf around your friendslist/links (or friendsfriends, or just random journals) to see who has posted their list. And now here’s the important part: – If you see a wish you can grant, and it’s in your heart to do so, make someone’s wish come true. Sometimes someone’s trash is another’s treasure, and if you have a leather jacket you don’t want or a gift certificate you won’t use–or even know where you could fulfill a wish for someone–do it. You needn’t spend money on these wishes unless you want to. The point isn’t to put people out, it’s to provide everyone a chance to be someone else’s holiday elf–to spread the joy. Gifts can be made anonymously or not–it’s your call. There are no guarantees with this project, and no strings attached. Just…wish, and it might come true. Give, and you might receive. And you’ll have the joy of knowing you made someone’s holiday special. 1. A ring that says love in cursive. I had one and lost it while I was in the grocery store a few weeks ago. It was the only ring I’d ever regularly worn. My parents had bought it for me for Christmas years ago. 2. Donations to AARDA, Alzheimer’s Association, Planned Parenthood, Pro Publica, & RAINN. 3. Cosmetics that don’t contain nickel. I love wearing makeup, but I have figured out that my super-sensitive skin is picky about makeup that contains nickel and other metals. 4. A makeup bag. I go to the gym, and I would like to take my makeup with me, but all I have to put it in is my purse. 5. Surprise me. 6. To have better sales in my jewelry and accessory business Silver Sky by Janet. If you can’t afford anything, just sharing the link to my store or sharing posts & following on social media (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter) would be helpful. 7. Jewelry and accessory supplies. Beads, fold-over elastic, buttons, lace, jewelry makings, wire, leather/suede, fabric, perler beads, etc. 8. A professional-looking website for my jewelry and accessory brand. I would love to not have to redirect my domain for the store to Etsy, but my website designing skills have just gone South. 9. Anything from my Amazon.com wishlist. Seriously. Anything. 10. Gift cards to Fire Mountain Gems, Etsy, and Torrid. ALLERGIES: Caffeine, Nickel, Orange Juice, Peanuts, Raw Onions/Alliums

Holiday Wishes Meme: 2017


Apparently Nottingham is a boring place at night because my number one stalker felt the need to comment on my blog again. As you can see, one of its residents, who claims to be named Roslin, is so bored that she felt the need to tell me: I will say something. All you do is take, take, take – you want money, you want people to come and do repairs for free. You and your parents do nothing but take and expect and whinge and moan. You are home all day, every day, do some repair work yourself because we all know you are not really sick! Interesting. It’s amazing that someone who lives across the globe from me knows not only my health status, but that of my parents. Apparently she missed a few weeks back when my mom was in the hospital with respiratory failure and kidney failure, or that her kidney failure has gotten worse; something I posted about rather regularly on Instagram. And she must have missed all the posts I’ve made on Twitter about my father having dementia and going through all the fun that that entails. A post shared by Janet Morris (@msjanersm) on Jan 21, 2017 at 4:38pm PST A post shared by Janet Morris (@msjanersm) on Jan 23, 2017 at 10:15am PST A post shared by Janet Morris (@msjanersm) on Jan 25, 2017 at 11:26am PST Almost. A post shared by Janet Morris (@msjanersm) on Jan 27, 2017 at 9:55am PST Signs at the hospital are confusing. A post shared by Janet Morris (@msjanersm) on Jan 27, 2017 at 9:57am PST Apparently dad had a panic attack at the grocery store with mom, when she went to get something w/o tell him, today. #dementia — Janet Morris (@janersm) August 3, 2016 Now he thinks his phone is trying to keep him from saving appointments on it. #dementia — Janet Morris (@janersm) October 4, 2016 Dad’s EEG & Doppler are tomorrow/later today. #dementia — Janet Morris (@janersm) October 20, 2016 Anyone know if this also can involve anger & threats of violence? https://t.co/Aa1xviG2AY #dementia — Janet Morris (@janersm) January 16, 2017 The GP/FP said with his memory & behavioral issues and his family history (at least 4 blood relatives with #dementia) that it was needed. — Janet Morris (@janersm) March 7, 2017 Yeah, parents who have organ failure and parents who are put on dementia medication are so healthy. I really hope that Roslin is never responsible for the healthcare of anyone. Maybe she isn’t a doctor. If she is, then I bet her patients will all die very painful deaths because she’s clearly not good at this kind of thing. I know that Roslin has missed out on my health issues, which have also been discussed on various social media outlets and in private entries on here, but that’s not new. In fact, that’s kind of her shtick. She’s always wrong about my health. I know that Roslin of Nottingham once went by the name of Rachel Cooper. That time she was so wrong that she, in her rush to judgment, didn’t realize that I actually had something wrong with my knee that would require surgery and months of rehabilitation. In fact, bringing up Rachel’s failure at diagnosing me became a bit of an ongoing joke. I tend to laugh at pathetic little trolls like Roslin/Rachel. That’s all you really can do with them. Well, that and pity them. Poor little sociopathic babies. I think that she may also go by “Rachel Clarkson”, the person from the United Kingdom who decided to send me a snarky tweet last week within a day or so of my posting the link to GoFundMe. Who knows what her real name is? I bet that her internet provider does. In fact, I’m hoping that they get back to me on my inquiry into it. I hope Roslin/Rachel realizes that people who are chronically ill and who are caregivers of people who are chronically ill have a tendency to whine and moan about their lives because having health issues sucks. Not only does it make your life painful and stressful, it drains your finances and any little bit of energy that you might have. People like me complain because life is not something anywhere near pleasant, and part of that is because I have to regularly deal with people like her. Roslin/Rachel isn’t the only person who acts like this. People that I know offline do it. Distant cousins have done it, including the ones who submitted my name and video to a comedy show so that I could be mocked. Total strangers, ones who aren’t sick enough to stalk my blog for two years so that they can harass me, do it on Twitter; at least 3 times a week lately, I get an unkind message from someone. Their favorite thing to tell me is that I’m selfish or spoiled or that I suck somehow. Oh, or that I need to get a job or that I deserve to die or that my grandmother deserves to die. There are a lot of little variants of deplorable messages that people send. And you know what? I have a right to complain about that part of my life, too. I don’t have to keep it all bottled up because some random asshole on the internet can’t deal with the things I say. If they’re that chickenshit, then they need to find a hobby or get some therapy because clearly they have too much time on their hands and have something going on that’s ‘causing them to be inhuman assholes. I pity them and their fucked up existences. I may be poor and disabled, and I may end up going to jail and being homeless for having a dilapidated house, but at least I’m not a horrible human being who gets off on trying to make other people as miserable as them.

And I’d Be Like, “Why Are You So Obsessed With ...



I write a lot, not as much on here as I used to, but I still write a lot. For better or worse, most of the writing tends to be on Twitter, though sometimes it is on Medium or Tumblr. Occasionally, there’s a Facebook post thrown in there. Can you digress in a first paragraph? So Twitter is a major platform for me to express myself. Sometimes I make pithy polls. Typically, the polls get between 2 and 20 votes. Lately, they’ve gotten a few more. When I responded to a person claiming that the Hamilton cast’s rebuke of Mike Pence was a vicious attack, the popularity of my pithy poll was easily attributed to Elon James retweeting it: Which is more vicious:@Sanrenkay @elonjames @maggieNYT — Janet Morris (@janersm) November 19, 2016 Last night, I stumbled across this response on Medium by Tom Steele to a post on New York prisoners being allowed (on average) 11 pads or tampons per month for use during their periods: One has t0 wonder if there is more to this story. 2.8 pads per woman per week, if I read that correctly, is 11 per month which seems like a lot. Some women would be expected to need less and it is hard to imagine many women needing more than that. I fully support providing the basic hygiene products required, like food, clothes, toothbrushes, toothpaste, soap, towels, tampons, etc… I responded with an explanation of why 11 is an unfathomable number of pads. I followed that up with a screenshot and a pithy poll. Raise your hand if you have ever needed more than 11 pads or tampons for a period. pic.twitter.com/fA38Oeq222 — Janet Morris (@janersm) November 30, 2016 #period #periods #livetweetyourperiod #feminism #reprohealth (please RT) During your period do/did you typically go through: — Janet Morris (@janersm) November 30, 2016 I thought the maximum number of votes would be about 20. As of this moment, there are 8,937 votes in that poll. My mentions have been filled with stories by people who have (or have had) periods of all sorts, whether they’re long, short, or regular in length; heavy, light, or medium in flow; or occur regularly or irregularly. I’ve learned about supportive friends, clueless relatives, and how many people are frustrated by how little they’ve been taught or that they know about their own bodies. I understand all of that because I’ve experienced some of it, and because I’ve seen others go through similar struggles. I’ve gone through moments where I was excited because so many people were sharing their stories1 to moments where I just wanted to throw my iPod at the wall because so many people were sharing their stories. I wanted them to feel free to share them. I love the joking. But I’m confused about how to deal with all of it. When people ask questions, I want to be able to answer them. When they say something funny, I want to be able to laugh with them. When I empathize with something they’ve been through, I want to express it. I’m worried that I’m being rude if I don’t respond. I’m also worried that all I will ever be talking about again is periods. I know it’s only been like 24 hours, and that this will die down. But this experience is just a bit mind-blowing. I worry that Mr. Steele, as annoying as I find him, will be harassed. I worry that there might be other repercussions, and I feel guilty about that. It’s a little weird when I wanted a boycott over his reaction to emotional abuse and bullying, but I don’t want him to have any personal suffering over this stuff.2 He seems like he would be the kind of guy who would laugh this sort of thing off, and maybe he will. Or maybe he’ll learn a little from it. I can hope that’s what will happen, but I will always worry about the possible negatives because that’s what I do. I worry that maybe his Christmas vacation will be spent trying to ruin my Christmas dullness. As I typed that paragraph, 34 notifications piled up on Twitter.3 This is new. This is different. This is weird. This is life with social media…and I really need to learn to stop doing my pithy polls. When Mara Wilson shared it, I fangirled out. Gayle Forman commenting about it made me fangirl a bit, too. I think I have all of her books. ↩What I truly want from both is for him to learn the facts and not promote ignorance. ↩Oy with the poodles already. ↩

Accidentally Popular


In just a few hours, I get to find out if my months of physical therapy are actually coming to an end. They should be, but the way that Brant talked on Tuesday makes me think it might not be.  If it is: I am planning on going to the Wellness Center to sign up to continue my rehabilitation on my own.1 If it isn’t: No trip to the Wellness Center will take place. I will come home as usual and continue my appointments. I will try not to be too cocky about the possibility that it may happen, but I will also try not to be disappointed if it doesn’t.2 I mentioned the possibility of changing family practice physicians the other night. It looks like that won’t be happening. The billing folks at UAB have written off the appointments. Apparently, they were all assigned to an attending who only briefly worked there. He never became certified with our insurance company. They seemed to be as frustrated with anything related to him3 as we were. So, yay, no new doctors!4 Anyway, I guess that’s all for now—except that I should point out how fucking awful Nazis/Neo-Nazis are. If you follow me on Twitter, you’ve probably seen my “conversation” with a self-proclaimed Nazi5 lately. They aren’t just bigots, they are assholes. No, wait. Assholes have the potential for good feelings. Nazis are the feeling lactose intolerant individuals get when they’ve just consumed massive amounts of ice cream, cheese, milk, etc.6 They. Are. Awful. And this guy is no different. They’re also incredibly boring, as there is only so much they can actually manage to say.7 And they piss. me. off.8 And I keep wanting to walk away from the arguments, but that ignoramus says something even more grotesque and my brain just goes into “must tell him he’s a racist jerk” mode. I should just walk away and maybe I will this time or the next. Just curious, but how would you interpret this picture?910       Oh well. I better go twiddle my thumbs11 for a while until it’s time for therapy.  My insurance plan covers a membership at the Center. ↩I am fairly certain that it will happen. ↩Re: He caused more problems than he solved. ↩I think I hear Handel’s “Messiah” playing in the distance. ↩This is where he’d go “@janersm *National Socialist.” But fuck it, he’s a fucking Nazi. If he doesn’t like being called such, he can stop being a fucking Nazi. ↩If you aren’t lactose intolerant, imagine the worst attack of nausea, fatigue, wooziness/dizziness, headaches, gas and either constipation or diarrhea you’ve ever had. Now multiply all of that by about 100. Voilà! ↩Blah, blah, blah. Jewish conspiracy. Blah, blah, blah. Lies. Blah, blah, blah. White is right. Blah, blah, blah. Holocaust? What Holocaust? Blah, blah, blah. I’m a pathetically ignorant shitbag, but I’ll never admit that. Blah, blah, fucking blah. ↩Considering how much time I’ve spent trying to learn about why & how the Holocaust and other bigotry has happened, this should come as no surprise. ↩@Bobasnotdead is the Nazi you’ve been looking for. ↩^ See what I did there. ↩Sleep. ↩

Hours Feel Like Days




My designer drug came today.1 It’s actually called Pennsaid2 and has the same active ingredient as Voltaren, which the orthopedist didn’t tell me when he prescribed it. Actually, he didn’t even tell me the name of the drug. I have been twiddling my fingers3 since the appointment wondering what this miraculous anti-inflammatory that he assured wouldn’t put my can’t-take-NSAIDs body at risk of going batshit when it encountered the drug. I knew when I saw the name that this was definitely an NSAID.4 And guess what? It has the same big boxed “fyi-this-could-kill-you” warning that all other NSAIDs have. It even says that if you have asthma5 or have issues with NSAIDs6 that the drug might not be safe to take. It goes on to say that despite being a topical drug and having absolutely nothing to do with the digestive tract at all, it can cause ulcers. Well, that’s just grand. I was so proud of the orthopedist for finding something that I could take that might help my leg.7 Clearly that pride was misplaced. I know that I’m more prone to adverse reactions than most people.8 I know that it says that it’s not likely to happen, but that doesn’t mean that it is safe to give it to a patient who has clearly told you9 she CANNOT take NSAIDs. When I tell a doctor I can’t take something, I mean that I cannot fucking take it. I’m not playing around. There are some drugs that I don’t like the side effects of, but will take anyway. NSAIDs are not one of those. I list them with my allergies because I know that they are not just unpleasant, they are contraindicated given my history of stomach issues1011 and the gastric bypass surgery. So now I’m on alert. I’ll try the stuff a couple more times to see if it’s actually safe. If I don’t react, I’ll keep using it, but I will always be on watch. I don’t think that I’ll be taking it long, though, since I’m already having some nausea, acid-filled burps, and some of the most intense upper abdominal pain that I have ever felt.12 I’m hoping that maybe the pain was me psyching myself out and that the nausea/HCl burps were a result of a little too much of my turkey tacos. If it happens again tomorrow13 then I will know that it isn’t the food. I don’t want to stop taking it and realize a long way down the line that it wasn’t actually making me sick. I also don’t want to end up with a perforated ulcer like Jenn, so I’ll be cautious about taking it. Anyway, I guess I could start blogging more at night. Some of the other medicine I’m on for the knee issue and for other issues has been keeping me up to 4 AM lately. If I’m up, I could do something sort of productive. Of course I’d have to be careful because the meds do make me a little more loopy-brained than I usually am. Oh, btw, I want to apologize to anyone14 who got annoyed by all of my tweets today. Over the weekend, I saw that #DefundPP supporters were planning a tweetfest to promote their hatred of Planned Parenthood and their related ignorance of abortion, birth control, etc. I decided to join in, except I would post facts, quotes, personal stories, etc. Basically, I was trying to help give people on Twitter some legit information instead of some bullshit propaganda. I also wanted to piss off the #DefundPP supporters. Considering the tweets that they sent me, I’d say it worked. Between being called evil, being compared to Nazis, being compared to Jim Jones/Jonestown, having my head called fat and ugly,15 and some other pleasant remarks, I’d say that the mission to piss them off was one that I clearly accomplished. There were some real assholes who decided that because I support access to abortions that I must hate babies and that I must have had an abortion. I think people who jump to that conclusion are like homophobic individuals16 who think that if you’re pro-LGBTQ rights that you must be in the LGBTQ community. Anyway, they determined that I was a baby-killer and that they would encourage their followers to harass me for killing this child that I don’t ever remember conceiving let alone aborting. That was the only tweet that I reported to Twitter because people in that movement can go a bit above-and-beyond on that scary, dangerous behavior. What was I talking about? Oh, yeah. I’m sorry for flooding some of your Twitter feeds with my #DefundPP tweets. It was for a good cause, but if it was annoying to you, and I don’t think that you’re a horrible human being, then I am sorry for my behavior. If I think you suck: Who the fuck cares what you think about my tweets? I certainly don’t. I guess that’s all. ‘Night, y’all.17 My dad got me started on calling it a designer drug. ↩I see what you did there, pharmacology people. ↩Or, you know, something else that’s fidgety. ↩If it hadn’t been, then I would give the company major props for their attempt at trolling. ↩Check. ↩Double check. ↩It doesn’t work well either. ↩Yay genetics! ↩As I typed this I thought of Willy Wonka–of the Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory film version–in his office at the end of the movie saying, “It’s all there, black and white, clear as crystal!” ↩My father also cannot take NSAIDs without having his acid issues flare up. He’s where I get the 80 mg Protonix + maxed out Gaviscon = still bubbling with hydrochloric acid stomach from. He also passed along his caffeine allergy. ↩Though it’s worth noting that Nana, mom’s mom, goes into anaphylaxis with anything, including skin creams, containing aspirin. ↩Considering that I’ve had GERD for around 20 years, gastric bypass surgery, and gallbladder failure that led to gallbladder surgery, I have plenty of experience with upper abdominal pain. Hell, it even ranks up […]

Mystifying Contraindications



2
If you find me whiny or annoying or entitled or too liberal or something else and you just feel like talking to me or reading about my life is something that you don’t want to do, then don’t read about it.  Unfriend me on Facebook.  Don’t follow me on Twitter or Tumblr.  But do not sit there and make yourself (or me) miserable. If you think that I waste taxpayer money, then that’s your opinion.  Just because its wrong doesn’t make it any less your opinion.  I’m not going to change it.  It isn’t possible for me to anyway. If you think that I let liberal blogs and the news media get away with reporting on more progressive stories, then that’s your opinion.  Just because it holds no weight doesn’t make it any less your opinion.  You’re entitled to think whatever you want. If you think that I am selfish or whiny, then that’s your opinion.  Chances are that if you don’t think highly of me, I probably don’t think highly of you.  We all see what we want to see about other people, which leads to our opinions about them.  You can call me selfish and I can call you petty, but that doesn’t make either of us right or wrong. You cannot blame me for things that I have no control of, i.e. your opinions, your feelings, your beliefs.  I can’t blame you for my opinions, my feelings, or my beliefs.  The only things that we can blame one another for are the things that we actually do to one another.  So, if you feel that our friendship or acquaintance status is somehow toxic or bad or not worth it, then we don’t have to be friends.  People are only good for each other when they aren’t constantly bickering.

Notice to Anyone, Everyone, and No One