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Constituency of the Brain Damaged Ants

Warning: rant ahead.

I’m sick to death of the legislative and other political clowns heading up our country right now. That includes everyone from the POTUS on down to the idiots who warm the seats of Congress to every crooked lobbyist with deep pockets who helps to feed the machine. I don’t give a royal shit if they’re an Elephant or a Jackass by denomination (and yes, denomination is the right terminology – they function on how much cash gets stuffed into their pockets), they deserve to get their collective asses kicked to the moon. I’ll thank the moon if it doesn’t kick them back.

If the average American behaved like our elected leadership – and believe me, I don’t mean leadership in any literal form when referencing the gormless leeches now in office – we’d be sued, jailed, shaken and not stirred, and probably shot in the streets by the closest police officer. What’s more, in this case I’m inclined to lean more toward the Elephant side of the regime. I’ve got a family member who’s gotten a taste of what Obamacare is all about. He’s on disability payments. After the changes to Medicare, his co-pays for his required medications went from $32 a month to over $700 a month. What’s more, the pharmacy told him they cannot, under penalty of law, accept any other discount plans for his meds when he’s a Medicare patient.

Yes, seriously.

In literally every other developed nation on the planet, socialized health care is the accepted norm. They’re appalled by what passes for medical care here. Socialized medicine isn’t perfect, but neither, boys and girls, is the bullshit system we’re now paying through our asses to support.

My open letter to Congress:

First, whatever medical plan you assign to the rest of us sure as shit had better apply to you too. Every co-pay, every incompetent and dismissive physician. See how fast we get healthcare reform through in a real, meaningful format.

Second, get your collective asses in gear and pass a budget. You keep screwing the American public and the American public is going to dredge up a collection of golden slings for those asses you hold so dear. Don’t be surprised if a few of those slings contain slipknots, either. I’m not talking physical violence, but I hope to God that come next election we clean house from top to bottom.

Jeez Louise… Enough already.

< /rant  >

This week has been far from the beaten path. G’s sister and niece are just lovely people, all the way around. G’s sister has been extraordinarily gracious to me, more than I knew was possible. After my ex’s family accused me of everything in the book and more, I assumed that was just how it was. Nothing could be further from the truth in this case. G’s sister brought along some very sweet treasures; G’s father’s wallet for him (which was especially poignant because with all his moves, he’d lost what little he had of his parents before he met me); a framed photo of their parents; and one of their mother’s rings for me. They also brought little treats from the Netherlands: Dutch salted licorice for G and chocolate letters for us both.

The last of those is actually a Christmas tradition there. You’re given a single piece of milk chocolate that’s the first letter of your first name. We all got a giggle out of the fact that while the box assured that the chocolate letter they were giving me was an L, it turned out in fact to be an F. They said they had never heard of that happening before.

The ring I inherited is beautiful in itself, yellow gold with a large old-fashioned cut garnet. The material value is probably respectable just from the amount of gold it contains, but the sentimental value is incalculable.

Tomorrow afternoon G and I will be picking up Little Guy and bringing him back here.  Monday morning my sister-in-law and niece will be back and spending more time here before they head out very early Tuesday morning. We’ve already extended an open invitation for them to come back and visit again. I know my sister-in-law will be back, hopefully next year.

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