I don’t give a royal shit about the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. They are starting coverage at 4:00 AM here in the states. I remember when Prince Charles married Di. I didn’t give a shit about that one either. I do remember every TV show and soap opera had it in there story line that someone in the show got invited to it and had the Royal wedding in there damn shows.
I don’t have a particular ax to grind with England’s monarchy; I just feel that the royal family is the richest welfare recipients on the planet. What else would you call them?They don’t do anything and the government just keeps giving them a shitload of money.
I’m not saying they should do away with the monarchy, polling shows that the people of that country widely support the royals. In other words, if they want to waste their money on a bunch of freeloaders it’s their business. I am just sick and tired of hearing about this damn wedding.
I guess maybe I shouldn’t throw stones, after all people probably got tired of me talking about my daughter’s recent nuptials, but at least the viewing public didn't get stuck with that bill!
It’s been a long time since I have gone an entire night without one minute of sleep; probably not since the days I had to work emergency service and had one of those extreme weather days where the number of calls out lasted the number of hours that my part of the Earth faced away from the Sun.
For what ever reason last night while lying in bed with my little fan blowing in my face and my lovely wife beside me after a wonderful evening of cooking dinner for my kids and my daughters new in-laws, I just couldn’t go off the grid.
I went to bed at a respectable 11:30 PM, I did have some pain issues with the recent operation, but no more than usual. The stress level was within normal limits. I lay there getting into my Zen thing with the mind idling sound of the fan and got to the tipping point of this world and the other world of alternating blackness and dreams. Just when I felt myself slip over and go into shutdown mode, something pulled me back over.
When it happened I just knew it was not a temporary set back. You just know your going to have to take other measures at that point either pharmaceuticals or the old standard personal relaxation techniques that usually do the trick. I have a few tricks in my magic sleep bag, sometimes it’s imagining floating in zero G’s in a dark room in the space station viewing the earth from 250 miles above terra firma watching the earth go from night to day to night again in the space of 90 minutes. Sometimes I occupy my mind with things I want to accomplish the next day. Sometimes I mentally work on blogs that I want to write searching for that elusive profound earth-shattering collection of words.
Last night I tried counting. Not sheep, I was counting the National Debt. So you see my dilemma. Today I have tried to nap a couple of different times with no luck!
The problem as I see it, we have a person occupying the office of president of this great nation and he has never seen a wasteful expenditure that he doesn’t like.
Sleep depravation is an effective tool, ask Winston Smith. So if I seem to be rambling more than usual, you know why.
Tonight doesn’t look any more promising, but perhaps you can help me.
The annual battle for control of the lawn has officially began as of this morning. The leader of the rebel uprising, the Dandelions know that the ruling junta has grown weak over the past year.
The driveway tipped them off as to his weakened position; their intel was gathered over the winter season. Not once did the ruling party even attempt to get the snow blower out to do battle against the snow. He never even got it out of the shed! The first attack of the winter season by the snow, saw foreign mercenaries being used by the ruling party to battle with armor and blade. The self proclaimed ruler-for-life, whose ruthless reign began 6 years ago was seen sheepishly walking out to the mercenary and handing them cash money for doing his dirty work. Frost-money delivered with his good arm, his other arm was bound to his side with sling all winter long.
This spring the Dandelions, leader of the Weed rebellion has had free reign of the lawn surrounding the capital until this morning. “Beloved Leader”, appeared without warning on the lawn this morning attempting to undo rebel gains, his arms were free, but he walked funny and moved his head like Frankenstein. A mere shadow of his former self who has ruled the lawn and driveway with ruthless abandon for the last several years.
“Beloved Leader” assumed his position in a power vacuum 6 years ago. Before his reign began the weeds ruled freely as the Capital had been abandoned for a period of years. “Beloved Leader” took control of the Capital in a Chlorophyll-less coup and moved into the presidential palace and since that time he has ruled the land with an iron fist, until now.
His counterattack seemed like a feeble attempt to intimidate the entire lawn as he used chemical weapons indiscriminately on weeds and innocent grass alike.
The attack lasted only a few short minutes as “Beloved Leader” was seen hobbling back to his presidential palace.
The rebel forces took hope from this feeble attack, however that optimism was short lived when a Chemlawn truck was seen in the area and rumors spread that the embattled leader was in talks with this powerful mercenary.
The couple was awoken around 3:30 am by people pounding on their door. Living out in the country in a very nice house built by the husband on several wooded acres would be the culmination of the American dream for anyone. Now the seclusion of living out in the middle of nowhere and the peace and quiet of country living being violated so rudely in the middle of the night would have any of us reaching for the 12 ga. loaded with 00 buckshot. Turns out they were not in any danger of a criminal home invasion. The nightmare turned out to be much worse; the intruders were several of the local law enforcement and the county prosecutor.
They were there to serve a warrant for sex abuse of 2 children; the warrant was for the wife.
Mrs. H worked at a nearby Christian school as a teacher.Our church had ran that for several years. A church so far out from the big towns, the congregation was large enough to support a fair sized church but still small enough that we all knew each other very well and none of us felt like we were just a number.
The school struggled to pay for itself relying on moderate tuitions and lots of people working there making a fraction of money that their labor deserved. Most, if not all worked there out of their love of God and service to their brethren. A commodity that is becoming all too rare on this Earth.
The school children ranged from daycare up to the beginning of high school. Mrs. H taught 2nd or 3rd graders, the 20 plus years have dimmed my memory of the specific details, but I remember the more traumatic aspects very well.
Mr. and Mrs. H were friends of ours and I served on the church board with Mr. H ;we broke bread with them on a number of occasions. The thing I remember about eating at their house was how great his deer steaks were. He was an avid hunter and knew how to make deer taste better than any beef you ever ate.
My x-wife worked for the church and the school so we found out early the next morning about the raid that had taken place just about a mile down the road we lived on.
I listened to the details and thought, “no way in hell (I mean heck) this is true.
These were not just people who go to church and just make an appearance; these were good people who worked hard to make their church and community a better place, true Christians inside and out.
I knew it wasn’t true before I even heard the specific details, but once they were revealed I was amazed that anybody in their right mind would jump the gun and execute an arrest warrant in the middle of the night without doing any real investigating.
The two young girls who were making the allegations knew each other; their families didn’t go to our church but wanted the girls to go to the school. They hadn’t been going to the school very long when they came home one day and revealed that Mrs. H during class that day had taken the two girls out in the hallway of the classrooms. The girls said their teacher made them undress and she did also, started playing some Michael Jackson music on a boom box that appeared out of thin air and all three of them were dancing up and down the busy hallway naked in the middle of the school day. Now it gets weird, this was a well-lit hallway, I know it was well lit because I did most of the electrical and HVAC work for the church and I made sure all the lights were burning. There were several classes on either side of her class and across the hall and windows in all the doors of the classes. Yet no one else saw any moonwalking or Thriller dance choreography, none of that. The other kids in her class could not recall any time that day their teacher or the 2 girls leaving the room by themselves.
Even after these inconsistencies came to light, the prosecutor who was in full re-election mode was determined to burn this woman at the stake and take our church and school down too. After all as this prosecutor pointed out, children never lie about sex abuse. They have no reason to lie, right?
The H’s hired a lawyer and under further questioning the two girls fabrication fell apart.
Seems they made the whole thing up, but why? After all children never lie about a thing like this. Well it turns out sometimes children do make things up. The motivation? They didn’t want to go to a Christian school; they wanted to go the big public school in town.
There young minds were devious enough to come up with a way to force their parents to take them out of our school, but they weren’t devious enough to come up with a story that could hold water for any body with half a brain or a local prosecutor that wanted to get her name in the news.
The charges were dropped, apologies made, the girls got their wish granted and never walked down the Michael Jackson Memorial Hallway again.
Life went back to normal in our sleepy little rural community, not for everybody though. The people of our church and school were deeply hurt, none more then Mr. and Mrs. H who were horrified in the middle of the night, Mrs. H taking down to the county jail. Fingerprinted, mug shot, booked and locked up. The only innocent prisoner behind bars that night. I can’t imagine how horrified she was.
Getting that background report last Thursday that was full of errors and finding out my brother was suspended for a false report by some hack investigation company, triggered this memory from the cobwebs of my mind. I can’t think of too many things that are worse than being falsely accused of something as bad as my brother or Mrs. H were accused of.
Forgiveness can be an extremely difficult thing depending on the severity of the transgression committed against you.
The H’s and our church were bound by their faith to do just that. As far as the prosecutor, she may have been forgiven, but I don’t think she got many votes from our congregation.
One thing we all learned from this, children sometimes do tell lies, as do media seeking prosecutors.
Several weeks ago, I got a form in the mail from work saying they were doing background checks on all the employees. I was real uncomfortable filling out the form asking for my first, middle and last name.
They wanted my SSN, date of birth, past residences, and spouses name.
Reluctantly I faxed the form back to the H.R. rep as did all the other employees that wanted to keep their jobs.
I checked the box indicating I wanted a copy of the report as well. I got the report back yesterday and tried to decipher the information in the 6 pages. One thing that raised a red flag, these dumbasses couldn’t even get my name right. The middle name was completely wrong and a former residence was a place my x-wife and kids lived, but I never lived there. Boy some investigator my company hired, I put the report aside and made a note to call H.R. in the morning to voice my concerns.
Last night during my usual BNO (boys night out), I get a call from my brother. He works for the same company I do and has been there almost 38 years.
He said guess what? Ok what? I’m on suspension from work,
Whaattt? He tells me his background check came back that he was a felon. Not only that, but he was a sex offender and was in trouble for not registering in a timely manner for the sex offender list.
I laughed, no shit, I told him about my report being screwed up, but at least they didn’t have me down as a perv. My brother has never seen the inside of a jail cell and you would have to ask someone else if he is sexually offensive. The report matched him as a sex offender with a different middle name and date of birth. Wow this is some investigation company.
I left a message with H.R. about the error on my report and said something about my brother getting suspended.
She responded in an email how embarrassed she was, she knew the report on my bro was bullshit, but we work for a huge corporation that has lost touched with the real world a long time ago. Well my bro is taking it all in stride and enjoying his little mini vacation.
I started doing some research on the USIS and I have found a lot of negative info about this company.
This place is a mess and I found lots of examples where this company gave false reports on several people applying for new jobs and due to the false reports they were turned down for the job.
What would have happened if my brother hadn’t been employed already for 38 years, but applying for a new job? They would have just thrown his application in the trash and he would never have known why.
The scary thing I found out about the company is they do a lot of background checks for the military and government security clearances.
Me and my brother both had erroneous reports and we are only 2 employees out of several thousand in our company. What are the odds of that?
What are the odds that this investigation service screws up the other way and misses records that they should be catching? The math is starting to scare the hell out of me.
I’m 6 days out from the [operation] and for the last week my pain has been managed by the Codone brothers, Oxy and Hydro. I have tried to sit down and write a blog or two, but everything I wrote came out like a Charlie Sheen narrative.
In the past 14 months I have had nurses write WRONG on my left knee, write RIGHT on my right knee; write WRONG on the on my right shoulder, write RIGHT on my left shoulder; write YES on the front of my neck and left the back of my neck blank.
They do this for a reason.
They do this for a very good reason.
1995 a Tampa surgeon amputated the wrong leg on a patient, although it was a series of mistakes made by a many of the hospital staff, it was on the doctor’s lap where the buck ultimately stopped.
2009 A patient noticed a problem when he awoke from knee surgery and saw the bandages were on the wrong leg. Sure enough the doctor had removed some cartilage from the wrong knee. The patient went back to the O.R. and had the correct knee repaired and left the hospital on two hobbled up legs.
There are hundreds of examples of right side, wrong side surgeries on all parts of the human body, but none so sad as the story about a woman who was pregnant with twins, one with a birth defect and the other was healthy and deemed fit to be born in a less then perfect world.
You probably can guess where this is heading. The abortionist slaughtered the healthy unborn baby. After discovering the mistake, the abortionist felt really bad about it. Pretty sure he got over it real fast. You can’t kill babies for a living if have any sort of soft spot in your heart.
So here it is Friday morning already and I’m getting prepped for another round with Edward Sissorshands. This one is different than the last three, this is the one surgery I really tried to avoid. The operation isn’t scheduled till 8:00 am, but I have to be there at 6:00, I know they need time to prep but 2 hours is a long time to lie there and think about what they are getting ready to do to me. At some point a nurse comes and asks me to tell her what I think I am here to have done. I’m thinking “shit, don’t you guys have a game plan yet?” I give her my take on the plan and she asks me if the doctor would be going in the front of my neck to do the spinal fusion? What, do I get a vote here?
I made a slashing sign to the front of my neck and she gets out the magic marker and writes, “yes” on my neck. A little while later the doctor comes in and puts his initials by the yes mark. Hmmmmm, we all on the same page here doc?
Finally the nurse comes in and says it’s time to go, I kiss my wife goodbye, hug my family and ask the nurse if I can take one final wiz.
As the nurse pushes my bed down the green mile I look up at the wall to see what time it is, it’s almost 8 o’clock.
Random thoughts keep popping up in my brain like, why do they call it o’clock? Why not just say, it’s almost 8 clock? Who came up with the O, was time invented by the Irish?
She wheels me into the O.R. and I think, man there are a lot of people in here. My eyes scan all the tables in the room and they are packed with scalpels, needles, tubes, CHISELS, HAMMERLIKETHINGS. BLACK AND DECKER CORDLESS DRILLS.
The O.R. looked like a cross between a Church Brothers Collision center and A Little Shop of Horrors.
In the center of the room there was even something that looked like a huge C-clamp, they told me it was a type of x-ray.
I see millions of dollars worth of medical equipment and I think my life could hinge on a nurse with a 69-cent magic marker.
They slide me over to the operating table and slide out arm extensions on each side and strap my arms down to them, they put a strap around my waist and secure me to the table and my feet are strapped down also and I think “shit, it looks like I’m on a Lethal Injection table!”
I start thinking about Timothy Mcvay and wonder did they use a magic marker on him too?
Did they write the words “terminate with extreme prejudice” on his arm? Or did they just draw a picture of the Fonz with his thumb pointing straight down with him saying “woe”.
All the people in the room are making jokes trying to loosen me up, a nurse is trying to adjust the strap on my left arm and she tells me put my hand where it’s most comfortable, my hand is almost touching her bosom, everybody in the O.R. laughed and started making cracks about that. Normally I would rely on my rapier like wit and join in the fray with a quick comeback, I’m thinking boobs, hand, comfortable,uuhhhhhhh damn, I got nothing.
My sense of humor has abandoned me just when I could have used a good chuckle.
The anesthesiologist injects his liquid pixie dust in my .I V. as I look at the surgeon who is about to go all O.J. on my neck, I am glad as hell the he is wearing a surgeons cap and not a turbin.
I feel the cold travel up the vein my arm and the scene starts to pixilate like Dish TV just before a rainstorm and we fade to black.
While I slumber
Two hours pass by in the O.R., but it’s only been a few seconds by my clock and I’m back with the living.
Been feeling pretty rough, but the good doctor sent me home with some serious narcotics that helps take the edge off, I just don’t want to end up on the next season of Intervention. Little by little I’m getting back to normal, kind of weirds me out the fact that I have some dead guys bones in my neck where the 2 discs used to be. Well I don’t think he will miss them and maybe if I get caught turning my head and looking where I’m not supposed to be looking, I can blame the whole thing on my bone donor.
I looked and looked at this picture and replayed those few precious seconds after the pictures were taken and before I took the first step down that aisle.
We were instructed to stop for pictures at the end of the little ramp leading to the walk that would turn my little girl into a grown women. My feet just froze there for a period of time that is not measured in seconds, but in memories. I didn’t have any idea that I was delaying the proceedings until I felt a slight tug on my left arm
Just a few minutes before this picture was taken, the bride to be was having problems convincing the youngest member of the wedding party (the ring bearer) to walk down the aisle with the lovely little flower girl. Now she was having trouble with the oldest member of the wedding party trying to convince him to put one foot in front of the other.
When I first saw this picture, I thought “awww she is looking up adoringly up at her father. Now that I have time to replay this scene in my mine, I vaguely remember Coley gently pulling on my arm and making some slight noise that I now interpret as ‘daddy it’s time to go”.
She didn’t express that in words, but I think I felt it.
A convicted sex offender facing nearly two dozen charges of child sex abuse may be soon be set free because doctors says he’s no danger to society even though he’s not mentally competent for trial.
Lonnie Hyrum Johnson was charged in 2007 in Utah with rape, sodomy and aggravated sexual abuse of a child for alleged acts with his niece and her step-cousin between 2001 and 2006.
Each charge is a first-degree felony. If convicted at a trial, the 38-year-old Johnson would face life sentences for every count. Instead, it appears he will be freed sometime soon after a hearing Thursday afternoon.
Deemed incompetent for trial by a judge in 2008, Johnson has been institutionalized at Utah State Hospital in Provo, about 45 miles north of Salt Lake City, where doctors have been working to restore his mental capacity.
But several weeks ago, the judge found that he likely would not be made competent to face the charges, and doctors believe he wouldn’t be a danger to society if freed.
"That magic language effectively kills our criminal case," said Deputy Utah County Attorney Craig Johnson.
Johnson sought to have the defendant civilly committed, but doctors say he doesn’t meet the necessary legal standard.
Under Utah law, a defendant is incompetent to stand trial if he suffers from mental illness, cannot understand the charges against him or is unable to participate in his own defense. For a civil commitment, a doctor must find that a person’s mental illness makes them a danger to himself or others. Johnson, who suffers from a cognitive disorder, falls into a gap somewhere in between.
Wow, that's some damn fine lawyerin'.
What amazes me is how fast this guy got all cured of his pedophile proclivities; I mean here this perv is so mentally messed up that a judge in good standing in the state of Utah declared this rapist/child molester incompetent to stand trial. In just two years the good mind altering doctors who were charged with the well being of this poor incompetent fellow have made him completely safe to be around your children.
Hmmm, let see, I have an idea that may be helpful to the good people of Utah.
Your Honor and Doctor, since you are so sure that Hyrum is too sick to go to trial for raping little girls and he is so mentally stable that he is no harm to society, lets have the you guys take turns and bring Uncle Hyrum into your homes and have him baby sit your children, or grandchildren.
I mean this is a win win ! You guys get some free babysitting and Uncle Hyrum will be off the streets, how can you go wrong?
Everyone knows that the recidivism rate for pedophilia and rapist is almost non-existent and we know that some of you judges and mental health professionals do everything you can to let the dregs of society loose and you guys are not hypocrites, right? So I know that you guys will jump at the chance to show the rest of us how sure you are of your decisions in this matter.
Now I don’t want you to worry about the fact that Uncle Hyrum was convicted in 2006 of raping a teenager and only served a year for that crime. The judges and doctors in that case probably were not near as smart as you guys.
Uhhhh, why are you guys looking down at the floor stuttering and stammering?
You are sure Uncle Hyrum is harmless now, right?
I mean you wouldn’t turn some animal loose on OUR children would you?
You were so reassuring when you spoke on this from the bench and the doctors office,but now all I hear is mumbling from you guys when the people of Utah ask you to put your money where your mouth is and take Uncle Hyrum into YOUR HOMES!
Oh I see, it’s ok for Uncle Hyrum to be around our children, but you would rather have Maryfucking Poppins take care of your special ones.
I guess when you cannot be sued for malpractice you can give the benefit of the doubt to rapist, murderers and child molesters and just flip a coin or enny meany miny moe and take a chance with someone else’s child.
I know I have been all sunshine and roses for the last week because it’s hard to be a big meanie when your little girl gets married, but that was last week.
This week it’s back to the dark side.
That is if I can quit looking at wedding pictures and videos.
It was an amazing weekend. My little girl looked beautiful in her dress and her husband (it’s going to take awhile to get used to saying that) made the perfect looking couple. The wedding was flawless and the reception was lots of fun.
I managed to walk my daughter down the aisle and stay high and dry, but once the ceremony got started the waterfalls began and didn’t stop until sometime after the father/daughter dance.
When the reception began, the Bride and Groom surprised everyone with a wardrobe change.
During the Wedding ceremony they wore the traditional white wedding gown and tux, but when they came to the reception hall, they looked like this.
You could hear a collective gasp, when they entered the room in Vietnamese styled clothes. It was a big hit with everybody and they both looked amazing!
I take much solace in the fact that she is married to a fine young man that I am very proud to call “son”.
When it was over, I wanted to begin the whole day over again.
It’s strange, my daughter moved out a few years ago so I was used to not seeing her all the time, but today the house seems so empty and I miss my little girl.
Yesterday, my little girl was born, my son is about four now and I was so happy to have a son and a daughter. My life is now complete.
Yesterday, I woke up late, glad I work the 2nd shift so I could watch my little girl everyday till her mother gets off work at noon. It’s 11:00 am and she is not making a peep, so I go to her room to check on her. Every morning she is standing in her crib, smiling at the morning sunlight that is all around her. I say to her ”morning Coley, are you ready for some breakfast?”. Her smile widens, so does my soul. My little girls affection for sleeping in late everyday, does her daddy’s 2nd shift heart proud.
Yesterday, I was driving down the road and my little girl, for no particular reason says,”
daddy this is how a frog doo’s. I took my eyes off the road briefly and looked over at her and my little girl was somehow making the skin between her bottom lip and her chin move in and out, doing a perfect imitation of a frog doing what frogs doo's with their throats.
I did my best not to run off the road while laughing myself to tears. My little girls is just a couple of years old and I thought, wow she is so smart!
Yesterday, I walked around the corner of the dressing room and was surprised to see my little girl with her mother’s bright red lipstick going around and around her mouth till she looked like Ronald Macdonald. I said emphatically “ Nicole!”.She looked up at me and with her bright red lipsticked smile about the size of a donut; she puckered her lips and said, "am I so pretty?”. I tried to act mad at her for getting into the forbidden makeup drawer, I don’t think I pulled it off.
Yesterday, the whole family was at Spring Mill Park, I took a picture of my little girl sitting in the trunk of our car using her little baby potty. I thought some day when she grows up and her husband sees this picture she will want to kill me. Later that day, we were sitting around the picnic tables having lunch, my little girl was sitting on the ground. My sisters were laughing because my little girl had a wooly worm crawling up her arm. She didn’t scream in terror as they expected, instead she picked the wooly worm off her arm and said “aww he’s so cute", and gave it a kiss. Then my sisters were the ones who were screaming, with laughter. I marveled at this act of bravery, wondering how my little girl could kiss a wooly worm, but go screaming across the house looking for me to save her if a spider gets within a hundred feet.
Yesterday, my little girl brought to me one of our Time Life books on the solar system and said “daddy, lets talk about the Earff”. I had been spending time with the kids reading out of this book and showing them the pictures of all the planets, they were especially interested in the planet “Earff”. I was happy to get down on the floor again with the book, globe of the Earff and a shadeless lamp (the Sun) and show them how it all works one more time.
Yesterday, my little girl came to me and said “daddy I have a splinter in my finger, can you get it out?” I took her tiny hand in mine and looked for the splinter and wondered, why they were making splinters so small these days. I had to get a magnifying glass to find it and the surgery was very difficult. I thought they need to make eyeglasses with magnifying glasses built in. I found out shortly there after that they actually do make glasses like that and I got my first pair of bifocals.
Yesterday, we were at my niece’s wedding and my little girl was the flower girl. She looked so beautiful in her dress. During the reception, she wanted to dance with her daddy when they played her favorite song “Butterfly Kisses”.
While we were dancing, I looked down and saw tears streaming down her face. Fortunately for me, I possess a heart of stone and was able to fend off this onslaught of emotion. There was a lot smoke in the reception hall and some of my family mistakenly thought I was tearing up. How ridiculous.
Yesterday, my little girl was on her deathbed until the school bus was out of sight. With the bus safely down the road she suddenly sprang back to life. I asked her what she attributed her miraculous recovery to. She assured me that it was nothing to be concerned about, she just had a near fatal case of the “comes and the goes”.
Yesterday, I watched my little girl drive away from my house in her first car that she paid for all by herself. I was so proud of her, but so sad to think that she may actually be growing up after I told her time and time again not to do that.
Yesterday, I put my hand on my little girls head, I pushed down and told her to stop growing, I told her I wanted her to always be my little girl. She pushed my hand away and said "no daddy, I have to grow up!"
Today, my little girl disobeyed her daddy and grew up,
Tomorrow I will walk my little girl down the aisle and give her hand in marriage to a wonderful young man who I know will make her happy for the rest of her life.
Tomorrow I hope the reception hall is not too smokey again.
And I hope my little girl doesn’t ask her daddy to dance while they play Butterfly Kisses.
