Tag Archives: chemotherapy

Cancer On My Sole


We have started another blog to deal with a more specific topic.

We will still post here but invite you to read Cancer On My Sole, http://www.cancersole.wordpress.com, if you are interested in cancer and surviving it.




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Dylan Blog Featuring Handicapped Bullies And Linda Ronstadt

Gentle Readers,Who watch your parking meters,

We find ourselves half-blindly pecking at the keyboard to give you an account of the Bob Dylan/Leon Russell show the CFYSA crew took part in this evening, or last night or last month or whenever you read this…to all Gentle Souls.

The trip to the show began with the drive to collect Ferd, who dressed surprisingly normally for a victim of dementia (haha), with the exception of too many gadgets, which posed later problems, as you shall see.  Ferd  saw the last Dylan show in the area with us and it was a great show but this one was better. The sound was spot-on, although we still heard morons in the parkinglot after the show saying ‘couldn’t understand a single word’. Perhaps if one has a vocabulary, one notices words and understands them and if one does not read and has no vocabulary further than rudimentary gobbles and the drive-thru menu at McDonalds, it would be hard to understand. They should buy a dictionary and try to read one book a year, for a start…then see if they understand.

So, the show was great and the setlist is available on www.expectingrain.com …the link is on the page above. We shall comment more on the event as a whole, rather than the sterling performance of the most influential force in pop music over the past 50 years. Ferd played a key part in the fun. While ‘dressing down,’ he still managed to be turned away at the entrance when they scanned us for metal items and found him to be carrying a knife, among other contraptions…ironic, since earlier in the day, we had told our close friend and confidant, Electra, about his gadgets and about his cap with the four mini-mad-lights on the brim, with a flashing light for good measure, and the knives and radios and Three Stooges Zippo and the myriad of junk he carries. Electra was amused but nonplussed at why a person should outfit themself in such a way.

At the Main Entrance, he was sent away, instructed to hide his knife under a rock…which he did and after standing in line again – while we drank cider inside the venue – he entered and was proud to note that they only found one knife and that the better one was in his back pocket. Why do we need knives in this day and age…portable knives, not at the workplace, that is? They come in handy for crude types to pick their teeth with but are an inconvenience, otherwise, as evidenced by Ferd’s second trip through the entrance gate, where he still ‘beeped’ on the security equipment; but they were so tired of him they just flagged him through…terrorists, take note! haha…

As enjoyable as the show was (the highlight for me was Dylan playing guitar while singing Beyond Here Lies Nothing, the first song on his latest LP, and theme song for the first season of some hoodie-kid-vampyre=tripe show, the name of which escapes us in our slight inebriation, post concert…True Blood perhaps?) we were disturbed by an idiot urging us to sit down. Our seats were in Row 13, so twelve rows of standing flesh would have blocked our vision, were we to comply. It turns out the person was handicapped and did not want to sit in the section where he could have seen the show nicely. Perhaps he was being independent by shining his flashlight in the faces of four rows of people while hissing/begging, “sit down, you bastards!!!” …Not an effective approach!

He poked Your Humble Narrator in the back twice with his finger, Your Narrator being 6’4” and often suspect of shenanigans when tall people are guilty of things…but personal intrusions like poking are bullying behaviour and we had to inform the patron that his index finger would soon be handicapped, should he poke one more time…an empty threat but effective.       

Handicapped people at public events can be quite mean. They expect special attention but do not make arrangements ahead of time. Some people have themselves declared as handicapped just to get a good parking space. More power to them? Having cheated cancer the hard way, we have no mercy…we live on borrowed time, so do not disturb!

Another bully memory goes back to when we were in the employ of a regional daily newspaper and, carving a niche in entertainment writing, was sent to do a review of a Linda Ronstadt show, when she was at the height of her fame. This was in the 1970s and Ferd was home on leave from the Navy and we were bending the rules of chemical consumption and blending hallucinogens, when it occurred to Your Humble Narrator that a story was due at the city desk by 1030pm…Putting two words together was a challenge, much less opining on the performance of songs we were only half-familiar with. Heart Like A Wheel was her best LP to date but she had gone pretty commercial. While not knowing what to write, the City Desk waited…Deadline waited…and so we made our way to a payphone in front of an ice cream vendor and put a dime in it…yes, a dime, and yes…a payphone!!!

The editor, a true friend, was helpful, writing the story for us while pumping for details so it sounded like he was writing about an event that actually happened! The reporter’s notebook in my hand contained most of the names of the songs she sang, but that was it, aside from what she wore. He took the information and crafted it into an acceptable concert review, slapped my byline on it and saved my career – but it took a bit of time to get the facts over the phone to him.

Dimes were no problem, compared to what was to come next. A small army of handicappers in wheelchairs surrounded me at the phone. Our brain was split betwen two realms of psychedelia. These pushy, wheely cretins wanted to call to get their ride home.  They deserve the designation of ‘cretin’ due to behaviour, not handicap. 

The story was only half done and the phone could not be given up. By the time we finished phoning in the story, no less than ten handicappers were cursing me with tongues a-snarling and using language most foul, they waved canes menacingly…multiple canes ready to strike…it is always shocking to hear the infirmed curse you and wish you unwanted anal penetration and this is not a blanket indictment of all people in wheelchairs. They were mean. They were bullies in wheelchairs. They have a way of milking the sympathy out of a person to get away with anything. Shocking, is what it is!!!

It reminds us of Richard Widmark as Tommy Udo in Kiss Of Death

If this blog seems intolerant, it IS. We paid close to $90USD for those seats and we do not need to be stressed in our post-cancerous state, It is stressful. It is mean. It is bullying…from now on, we think twice about “hiring the handicapped” and will only hire the ones who have good manners…because manners, Dear Friends, are the glue that holds society together!!!



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How We Lose More Rights By The Day – DEA Runs Marinol Ad On Website!!!

     I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands, one nation, (under God?)indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

     Remember that hackneyed, old poem? When I was a child, fresh-faced with hair combed in place, I held hand to heart and recited it in reverence and belief. I wonder if children still say it in school? Might as well get them used to the lies early in life.

      A fact is that we are no longer ‘one nation…indivisible…with liberty and justice for all.’  A fact is, you can put as much stock in the narrative intro which ran before the Superman tv show starring George Reeves, who supposedly killed himself…

     strange visitor from another planet who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men. Superman – who can change the course of mighty rivers, bend steel with his bare hands, and who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights the never ending battle for Truth, Justice and the American Way.

     One is as believeable as the other to a child. Adults do not seem to consider the Pledge of Allegiance anymore. It makes no sense. We are a nation divided by racism, class privilege, poverty, establishment of dictatorship, censored news media and autocracy. We, Gentle Readers, if you will kindly plug your ears, are fucked.

     Why do we act as a nation of numbskulls and play into this eventual demise of all that was good about America (notice we used upper case this time because we wrote of the old, real America)? Why do we not question opposing news reports? Why do we allow the big-pharma complex to pay millions of dollars a month, every month to buy the opinions of elected officials. Didn’t we elect the officials to watch over our interests, rather than lining their pockets with blood money as constituents are buggered by their own media-instilled apathy?

     Take the furor over the medical marijuana laws. The Constitution of the United States, according to Article VII, Section II, states, in its entirety, that The Citizens of each State shall be entitled to all Privileges and Immunities of Citizens in the several States. According to our original Constitution, if one state has legal pot, all states have it. So much for that.

     Many savvy-to-themselves types refer to the current ‘marijuana prohibition’. That is an idiotic phrase, if ever one existed. Alcohol prohibition was an issue which went through the Congress and was passed and ratified and became the 18th Amendment to their (no longer ‘Our’) Constitution. Marijuana is not covered in the constitution. It was a pet project of a blatant racist, Harry Anslinger, who used it as nothing more than a way to play on race hysteria and advance his own agenda to become a fat, greedy son of a bitch and not a nice person.

     The fact that some states currently allow marijuana to be legal, for whatever reason, is a shot vollied at your own flag, if we are to take the Pledge Of Allegiance to be true. Otherwise, it is simply one more tool to brainwash children while their brains are still supple. The states are not equal. Worse, still, as we often crow about in this blog, since medical marijuana is legal in the capitol of this nation, all the lobbyists, congressmen, senators and governors with a brick and mortar DC address on a piece of letterhead can purchase high grade marijuana any time they wish, seven days a week.

     They do this while fighting to keep common citizens, as we hope our Gentle Readers understand, from having it and enjoying the same privilege as they have themselves, in direct conflict to the laws put forth in the aforementioned document.

     Today is January 2, 2010. We at CFYSA like that, because it was on January 2, just nine years ago today, that our fearless leader, Mr Hendrick, was wheeled into the operating room to have 20 years worth of cancerous growth removed. At the time, he had been given a maximum of 18 months to live. He went to the wonderful Cancer Centers of America, the friendly caregivers we have all seen in the tv adverts who truly understand, to get a second opinion and they also concurred on the death of our Beloved Scribe – within months.

     Your Beloved Scribe does not listen to garbage, as does 95% of the media-fed american public. He refused to die. He broke the law in order to stay alive and it worked. The law which got broken was the one which makes smoking pot illegal.

     Why would the american government fight so hard to keep a harmless plant, indeed a wonderful healing plant, something which we can end up behind bars for? A recent visit to the DEA website showed an image of a Marinol, a synthetic cannibinoid meant to replace marijuana in clinical settings. Marinol is produced by Solvay Pharmaceuticals of Belgium.

     Nobody seems to wonder why our elected officials were paid, yearly, $85,000 by representatives of Solvay. The democrats only got $25,000 while republicans got $60,000. This was usually doled out in parcels, like individual payments of $5000 to each elected individual who they bought buying off.

     Nobody seems to question why a Belgian drug company rates the status of PAC (Political Action Committee) in this country and is thereby given the power to distribute funds as they see fit. Does that explain why the DEA is advertising for Marinol? Do the math, so to speak. Think for yourself. Why would the DEA advertise a drug? It is illegal.

     Or how about this nugget, upturned from the fetid soil of this land recently – recently,  an order was issued from Obama’s hireling that no more than one billion dollars can be spent to eradicate the presence of synthetic cannibinoids. One Billion Dollars? It is insane that marijuana itself is not regulated, taxed and sold so that the economy misses out on about $42 billion a year in taxes, not to mention the costs spent on prosecution and incarceration. Spending another billion to get rid of ‘fake’ pot, which is comprised of unknown ingredients, is maddening.

     The fake marijuana, which can really help with problems caused by chemotherapy, was kept on the shelf next to the chewing tobacco, which caused cancer, brown teeth and gums, a mild form or retardation and a shortened lifespan. The chaw is still there, used mostly by teens.

     Does all this make sense to you? If it does, you must be on the payroll!

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