Collinization
Friday, June 13, 2003
 
"Don't worry, this will just take a second..."

I was really hoping that I would never write this post. I really wanted to believe that after all the bullshit, getting my nose fixed today would go smoothly and without hassle, and I would have no conclusion to the story. But that would've sucked for you bloodthirsty mongrels, and made me happy, so obviously it cannot happen. Anyway, here is part 3:

So at the ungodly hour of 7:30 this morning I wander into the doctor's office to get my nose set. I've been hearing horror stories about what he is gonna do to me all week; one lady said they are gonna pack my nose with cotton and hit it with a ball-peen hammer, another guy said they are gonna just grab my nose and snap it back into place. Unfortunately, the people I talk to on a daily basis are completely retarded, as you may have noticed by now. So I go in there, I get into my little room and Im lying on this bed-bench type thing that moves; like the ones on the informercial. So the doctor comes in and talks to me a little bit, and then we start to play every doctor's most favoritist game in the whole wide world: "Does this hurt?"

I am not a medical doctor. But in my years of playing "Does this hurt?", I have found that on a pretty consistent basis, the doctor will poke at you a bit and say, "Does this hurt?"(Hence the name) and you reply yes or no. It's fairly simple and easy to understand. But today, "Does this hurt?" was a 1 player game. The doctor would push on a spot on my nose, and say(you guessed it) "Does this hurt?" and I would say, "Yeah, that fucking hurts!". Now, whenever I have played this game in the past, when you answer "yes", it implies that the doctor should stop doing whatever the hell it is that he is doing. But ohhh nooo, not today! Today "Yes" means "Push harder, you sadistic son of a bitch!"

This went on for about 5 minutes. He would poke the bridge of my nose in a spot, and I would say "Oww." He would then take his thumb, and push on the afformentioned spot as hard as he could, as I lay there in agony. I finally had to ask him, "Do you hear me telling you that it hurts?" To which he replied, "Yes, but it's supposed to hurt." Well why the hell are you asking me then!?!

So after a few hearty rounds of poke-n-squirm, good ole doc decides maybe I can have some novicaine now. How charitible of you. So he shoots me full of sweet, face numbing liquid and we wait for it to set in. About 5 minutes after, he comes back, and we are ready to begin. He pulls out this little tool that looks like a tiny pitching wedge, and shoves that shit up my nose. "Don't worry, this will just take a second" he says, and we all know what that means. He shoulda just told me it was going to hurt him alot more than it would hurt me, for all the comfort I got out of such a statement. And it's about this time that I realize, although my cheeks and upper lip are all numb, my nose is still surprisingly sensitive. This does not bode well at all. I wanted to tell him, but I didn't get a chance before he jammed that shit into my eye socket.

This was the single most intense pain I have ever felt in my life. The doctor is using this little wedge thing to push my nosebone back out of the indent, and he is using my upper lip as a point of leverage. So I grab the edge of the bed to squeeze instead of crying like a little girl, and its a good thing I did. Apparently, I am a very fast healer. The doc was having alot of trouble moving my nose bone, and at one point he lifted my entire body off of the bed while pulling up on his little tool. I weigh about 200 lbs, and this man has me suspended in air by a 4 inch metal rod, which is inserted in my right nostril. Good times, good times.

At least now, no one can tell me I don't know what its like to be a vietnamese prostitute. So I got that going for me. Which is good.

Time for part two, the left side of my crooked ass nose. The good news is, this part doesn't involve a metal shard entering one of my orifices. The bad news is, we do this one the old fashioned way. The doctor puts his two thumbs on the left side of my nosebone, and pushes, really really hard. Honestly, I'm glad this part was second, because compared to part one this was like a vacation. So he does what he has to do, and then we put the cast on. Don't get it wet, don't poke at it, don't use it to re-broadcast major league baseball, blah blah blah. So now we're all done; I got this weird white peice of plastic cemented to my face. The doctor says I should wait 5 or 10 minutes before driving; probably because I was stumbling from wall to wall as I walked down the hallway. So I serve my timeout, and set up my appointment to get the cast removed(only 1 week, woohoo). The receptionist asks me where I'm going, and I tell her im going down stairs to smoke a cigarette while I wait for my ride. And then she casually said something that I will never forget for the rest of my life:

"Oh, well be careful. If the spark gets too close to the cast, it will burst into flames."

They fucking boobytrapped my face. I have a cast that crumbles if it gets wet, and explodes into flames on first contact with a spark. I shoulda stayed at 2nd base, where it was safe. I can't wait till the inevitable part 4 of this story, where I light my head on fire, then have to go back to plastic surgeon and explain to him that I should not be allowed within 50 feet of things that burn, melt, or explode, much less have them glued to my grill. I wonder what sadistic devices of torture he will use to treat that injury? The only way to find out is to keep reading my blog! (Now I have you, muhuhuhahaha)
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
 
Hello, I am an Idiot

Hello, I am an idiot. I beleive that by strapping c4 to my chest and detonating it on a bus, that somehow this act will cause the nation of Israel to pack up and move someplace else. I am willing to kill myself because jews live next door to me. I think that since I lost a war 30 years ago, and a country took some land and then gave it back after, that I have the right to take the rest of their land, even though they won that war.

I am willing to sacrifice my own life for a terrorist organization. I think that attacking innocent people on the bus is equal retaliation for a targetted missile strike on a known leader of a violent resistance movement. Rather than attack the military, who would defeat me and my pathetic countrymen, I prefer to pray on civilians, children, and the elderly, because it is much less likely that they will fight back.

I don't have the mental capacity to understand that if enough idiots like me continue to pop themselves like walking M-80's, the much stronger and better trained Israeli military will eventually grow angry and wipe us off the planet like the pestilence we are. Luckily, the morons over in Europe have convinced the United States that somehow we deserve to have a state, even though the only thing we are good for is mobile explosive devices. It looks like no matter how many times people like me do this, the U.S. will continue to restrain Israel from protecting themselves effectively, so we get a free pass to commit terrorist acts as often as we'd like without retribution! One day Israel will realize all this and tell the United States to fuck off, but I'll never see that day because I'm dead!

 
Why A Tax Cut for People Who Don't Pay Taxes Isn't That Bad

I've been reading alot lately about the new tax cut, and how it is going to give a credit to people who make less than 25,000 a year and have children. I've also seen alot of people that I agree with on a great number of things post about it, and bitch incessantly about how it's really welfare, and how unfair it is that the government should take money out of their pocket and give it to someone who didn't earn it. I am now going to explain to you why, although a good sentiment, you are looking at this pseudo-welfare the wrong way.

Take first the fact that we have welfare. Welfare is where people who don't work get a check from the government each week for simply being alive. That money comes from your paycheck, and you don't have a choice in the matter. Welfare is going to continue indefinately in this country; it may be reformed, re-reformed, homoginized, pasteurized, but its still gonna be a check every week for breathing air, signed Uncle Sam, courtesy of the taxpayer. I also remember a brilliant idea from before I was completely sentient(read: teenager), about something called "workfare". This was a concept that -gasp- meant that people on welfare should get help and rewards for working for a living, as opposed to just collecting their welfare each week. It seemed brilliant to me, although I can't recall the details of it. But the idea is correct; welfare is for people who are down on their luck, and it is supposed to be used as a means to get back on your feet, not as an eternal source of your household income. As always, some people abused the system, others tried to make it better and fucked it up in the process, and we have our current welfare system as it stands today.

Bring in this tax cut. The issue at hand of course, is that people who make less than 25,000 dollars a year get earned income tax credit because they are really that poor, and so they don't pay any taxes. As bad as it seems that some people don't pay taxes while others do, the reality of the situation is that 25,000 dollars a year is chump-change, even before taxes. You can hardly live on 25,000 a year, and you can't live on 22,000 a year, which is how much you would be left with if taxes were paid. I make 27,000 a year and I have full medical coverage, and it's going to take me about a year of saving and hard work just to be able to move out of my parent's house into a shitty studio apartment in a terrible neighborhood. And these people go to work each and every day, for 8 hours a day or more, and work very hard doing menial, repetitive tasks for their 25,000 dollars a year or less. If you tell me that scraping the shit out of a clogged sewer for 8 hours a day is not harder and alot worse than sitting at a desk drinking coffee and pushing papers, then your a fucking idiot and I'd like you to stop visiting my site.

So now we have established who our target for this tax cut is. People with full time jobs and children, who make dick for pay and do shitty shitty jobs that the rest of us wouldn't touch for twice as much money as these people make. They get an extra 600 bux to take a night course at college, buy their kid a bike, get some new clothes for that job interview, or in worst case scenarios, buy diapers for little junior there. They aren't taking this money and going to Cancun for two weeks, laughing all the way to the bank.

Yes, call it what it is, its a hand-out, its not a tax cut. But these are the kinds of people who welfare should be working for! These are people who work; they don't live off the government teet, they get off their asses every day and go to work just like the rest of us; they just aren't as well trained or educated or maybe even as intelligent as Joe 12 pack, so they got the shit end of the employee food chain. These people are the ones who actually deserve a handout from the rest of us. These are the guys that are trying their hardest, and doing the one thing everyone told them would lead to success: Hard Work. And after all their time and effort, they are still failing. Bitch all you want about welfare, because welfare is a bad thing these days. It doesn't get people to get a job, it teaches them that they don't need to get a job to have money. It takes your money that you work hard for, and gives it to someone who sits on his fat ass all day. This is a bad thing. But as we established, welfare isn't going anywhere. So I give you this choice; if some of the money the government takes out of your pocket has to go to someone worse off then you,(and it does; if you think welfare is ever going to end as a government program then you really need to visit reality) who would you rather see it go to? Someone who does not work at all, but instead sits on their ass watching Jerry Springer and popping out kids to get a bigger free check each week? Or someone who goes to work every day, doing a shitty full time job for minimal pay, and has a little kid at home, who maybe wasn't planned or wasn't a wise decision, but who the parent took responsibility for and raised instead of giving him to an orphanage? Who deserves a handout more? If your answer isn't the latter, then your probably one of the former.

And that, really, is the only way you can look at this tax cut. Sure you can scream your head off about it being welfare; and guess what, its welfare. But welfare isn't going away any time soon. At least its welfare to people who are trying to do better, instead of people who already gave up, and are content to live off of your hard work. The people who will be getting this tax cut are the kind of people who will be proud on the day that they no longer qualify for this tax cut, because all their work will have paid off. If you want to bitch about the government giving your hard earned money, then you should take a look at regular welfare.

Actually if you were born before 1972, you can go fuck yourself, because i'll be paying social security for the next 50 years thats going into your pocket, and i'll have to live to be 137 to see all the money I put in come back to me; while you will collect more than 100% of what you put in by the time your 78 years old! But that's another rant, for another time. To summarize:

1. Welfare - Not going anywhere.
2. Welfare for people who don't do shit - bad.
3. Welfare for people who work hard but don't make any money - better than welfare for people who don't do shit.

Get it?
Tuesday, June 10, 2003
 
Ridiculousness Is Everywhere - Be Wary

It's become painfully clear to me that everyone on the planet, including myself, is an idiot. And there's so many examples, I wouldn't know where to start. Well, actually I do:

Young Allhad Abdul Mohammed, fed up with his life in the ghettos of Pakistan, dedicates his life to a terrorist organization. He studies the Koran and trains for 20 or 30 years, learning from the masters of their craft. One day he gets the call he has been waiting for, and off he goes, via forged immigration papers, to live in America. Here he works at a convenience store, patiently waiting his instructions. Years go by, and then one day a masked man enters his corner store and hands him a note sealed in goat's blood. Having received his instructions, he prepares to make the ultimate sacrifice. Loading his white work van with gasoline and homemade explosives, he says his final goodbyes to the mortal world, and he carries out his suicide mission. For the greater glory of Allah, Allhad Abdul Mohammed screams in murderous rage as his van careens into the LIPA power building, and the massive explosion takes his life in a final blazing glory. He has scored a great victory for the nation of Islam this day; because of his lifelong dedication and selfless sacrifice, a few blocks of a shitty long island suburb lost power for an hour or so.

Friday night in my town, a power generator in the electric company's building exploded, briefly knocking out power on my block, and knocking out power in the town for a great deal longer than that. The problem is that my town has about 13 traffic lights across an 8th of a mile, and there's a set of train tracks thrown in the middle there. Absolute fucking chaos, but that's another story. So the power is out, and like every nosey busybody, me and the neighbors all came out on our front lawns, because its dark and scary inside. So my one neighbor found out about the generator, and told the rest of us, to which no less than 3 people replied "Maybe its a terrorist attack!" I had to leave, because I couldn't handle yelling at a bunch of 50 year old, successful, middle class people acting like complete morons. What the fuck is wrong with you people!?! Terrorism!?! Actually I'm wrong, my one next door neighbor was not outside, and is not a fucking idiot either. He's from Jordan, and he ain't stupid; when the old terrorist word comes along, he pulls his BMW into his garage, goes into his house and turns out the porch light. There's been an American flag hanging next to his door since 9/12/01. A-rab or not, he's probably my favorite neighbor, cuz he's the only one without his head jammed straight up his ass.

But that's just the tip of the iceberg. Today at work, I got called down to the accouting department. Trouble with my paycheck? Bank error in your favor? Oh no, this is not good news. I am in the accounting department, so that I can show the 3 degree holding accountants who work there how to use microsoft fucking excel. That's right, i'm standing there with my bullshit english degree, giving a de facto lesson in basic spreadsheet use to 3 certified fucking accountants, all of whom, i'm sure, make at least twice as much as I do. And they need ME to show THEM how to use a computer to do accounting! Why do these people still work here; hell why do these people work anywhere!?! No wonder we get paid every two weeks; it must be hard to write out all those payroll checks with a goddamn crayon.

So after that mind-numbing experience, I decided I earned myself a cigarette break. Since smokers are contagious lepers according to the New York State Government, that meant a trip down the stairs and outside. I don't mind leaving, its just the point that I have to. So anyway, the bathroom on the first floor has one of those clever doorknobs with the combination lock under it. Nevermind that its the only bathroom in the entire building that has this lock; there must be something awesome in there if they need to protect it so bad. I walk by this door every day, and each day I wonder the same thing; "What could the combination be?" But today was such a specially idiotic day, that I had to test a theory of mine. So I walk over to this big, scary door, and sure enough, I held the answer the whole time.

The god damn combination is 1 2 3.

(Hey, that's the same combination I use on my luggage!)

What the hell is the point if you're just going to make the combination 123?!?! Who chose this, and why isn't his head impaled on a stick next to the front door? Oh that's right; it was one of the guys from accounting.

This reminded me of my old job. It had a similar door, with a similar password, which protected all the copyrighted design drawings. I'm not going to post any info about it on here just in case, but let's just say it wouldn't take an accountant to figure out how to open it. But that's not the worst part; the door was made of hollow fucking plywood, it weighed about half a pound. Even if you were too retarded to figure out the code, when you banged your head on the door in frustration, the whole friggin wall would probably fall down. And this door was protecting the copyrighted design drawings, not a urinal with one of the good mints in it. Homeland security alert levels are making more sense every day.


Monday, June 09, 2003
 
Coming Soon
Soon as I get off my lazy ass and do it that is.

Anyway coming soon, I'll have a blogroll, and here's my first link, to a real funny motherfucker who subsequently also showed me how to make all the stuff that's coming soon:) Anyway he's funny and both of you guys that are reading this and aren't him should go immediately to Bloviating
Inanities




So yeah, coming soon I'll have links and a blogroll. Im still working on getting comments, but im also still stupid, so for now just e-mail them to mrcollins21@yahoo.com. And if you sign me up for pr0n0 spam i will find out and do nasty things to your pets. That means YOU buddy. And when I say pets, I mean friends and loved ones.


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