Thursday, November 19, 2015

40 Minutes 35 Seconds On Hold

Hughes thought the world had changed. Wrong again!

Still, no ObamaCare®. And now, I shall rant as if I had signed-up with Bill Gardner as a “Secret Republican.” How more “cosmic” can it get when Hughes was unconsciously moved to call NH on the date he wanted to be there for the last day of beauty pageant filing. The “Inner Voice” of reason, sanity, and pure logic is not a hallucination, so I picked up the Android, which is not a real phone. A real phone has a coiled cord and is in two pieces. No other object made in Asia should be legally allowed to be called a “Telephone,” in my opinion.

We’ll skip JIM COMEY’S despicable lying and stick to the masses who are still uninsured and ready to do something very bad if fined for a lack of health care coverage when apparently no one is compelled by law, regulation, or large loaded handgun to answer the goddamn phone at government (888) numbers. First, I called my old health care provider (Hint: Blue) to say how happy I was with a simple 70/30 plan I could afford. The call-taker answered promptly and felt my pain.

Once transferred to the .gov agency, this Hughes played with the virus scan while on Perpetual Hold and reviewed details on the first virus captured by “Wilbur,” a not quite new Windows 7 equipped HP. The little worm was probably a gift from my associates I’d rather not know at Anonymous. Yet how can we complain about hackers who have marched off to Internet War with Muslim bad guys? I’d suggest hacking-up their “head-chopping videos.” Yes, a sociopath knows how to fight with a sociopath, and I would know, because I wrestled with them on the floor of my hospital ward. As with “The Cops,” there was always more of us than them.

Back to health care, I’ll call in the morning and count the cups of coffee consumed on hold. When they answer the phone, my income is embarrassing, and given the new POTUS #44 “Lifetime Loser” Food Stamp account, I should be approved for a subsidy promptly. No? Then I’ll file a lawsuit with a remedy that would find the Big MO Bureaucrat ordered to read all of my psychiatric journal articles multiple times like the Catholic confessional “Hail Mary’s” no one ever completes. Don’t you love Catholicism? “Say an ‘Our Father’ and don’t kill any more crooked politicians” the wise priest says. Then, he just can’t tell the detective who wants to ruin fairly meted mafia justice.

Why would I stock-up on weapons and complain about 8 years with no dental care, 7 years with no doctor visit? I feel fine. However, when I start ranting about Medicare/Medicaid/Insurance Exchanges/Ira Magaziner/Vince Foster and so forth, I’m quite sure my BP goes up, and by the way, the price of gas at BP was .9 cents when I lived on Michigan Avenue, or so the sign said. In the California desert, the sign said that too, but I failed to whip out the now “missing” camera. This was near the famous naval base with no water where a U.S. Navy cop hid behind his Jeep when I said, “And I’m also kind of running for president.” This caused him to call his boss and later say, “Hold on a minute, I need some more information.”

I was uninsured then, and I’m uninsured now. The long wait for Canadian health care? I think it’s big, fat, lie. If I’m dying, they’ll take forever to approve me for futile treatment, right American Spectator? I think that’s bullcrap. Does the Internet work from Toronto? I’m sure it does. May I buy the Blue Jays? Not yet.

We've got WHINSEC grad girls to contend with, men. I'd recommend the SONY porno camera, and make it perfectly clear an old dog can indeed be taught new tricks.

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