Screech of Discomfort in B Flat Minor
There comes a certain point at which you really have to take a break from writing porn, no matter how well it pays.
That point, for me, was reached today when I was surfing my usual news sites, and discovered myself trying to finish the headline or story whenever I had to click through to get past an ad or to a new page.
"Jim and Molly Jones have opened a new pet-care store with a special focus on . . ."
"Ponygirls!"
"Police say the criminal entered through an open window and assaulted the victim with a . . ."
"Foot-long double-ended dildo! SEXY assault!"
"The teenage carjacker was apprehended after an hour-long chase through downtown, after which . . ."
"The hunky cops forced him against the car and administered some butt-swattage and deep dickings."
"Authorities say that the power should be restored to the storm-damaged area within 24 hours, but . . ."
"Not before Michelle mistakenly sleeps with her best friend AND her husband's brother, all because she went into the wrong room! Will he stop the double penetration in time!?"
"Dolly Merkins looks like any other ordinary twenty-year-old, but her pretty face hides a dark secret . . ."
"Nipple-piercings the size of shotgun shells!"
My brain is way, way out of line.
In other news:
ARRRRRRRGH!!!
Jesus fucking Christ! It's that time of year again: time to sign up for medical insurance. Stop me if you've heard this one.
First, they raise our deductible by 200% to $1,000 (that's $1,000 for each of us, not jointly), then cut in-network coverage from 90% to 70%. Then they double all copays, including those for prescription medication (meaning that the drugs I take for my thyroid cost the same as the copay, rendering it useless). Next, they remove the optical plan from the program completely, barring one eye exam every two years. And last but not least, they jack the price of this "coverage" up to $350 a month. For two healthy people with no children.
Now, let me do some math for you. That's $4,200 for coverage per year just for the basics. That, plus a $1,000 deductible for each of us is $6,500.
My medical expenses, assuming two trips to the doctor per year for exams and bloodwork, plus lab fees for these exams, plus prescription costs, plus an additional bonus of a couple hundred dollars for things like a visit to the urgent care facility or for fucking vitamins or get well cards is still only $860. My deductible is more than that! We'd be paying $4,200 for no benefits whatsoever.
Are you getting the picture? It's nothing but an ass-ream.
I am fucking disgusted that we were essentially forced to choose between having health coverage until the beginning of next year and meeting our bills for little things like water and power. It just fucking makes me sick. No goddamn joke.
I have been spitting nails about it all day. I keep hearing the doctor from The Ghost and the Darkness. "Welcome to the hospital. My advice to you is don't get sick."
Indeed.
Dropping that coverage is equivalent to giving my husband a dollar-an-hour raise. That, my friends, is ridiculous. That money will make the difference between subsisting and being able to save for retirement. And that thought should make you want to fucking puke. Because it makes me want to fucking puke.
No, I don't feel good about it at all. But it's done, and I don't really want to argue about it. I just want to find the person responsible and pummel him until he needs reconstructive surgery.
Surgery, by the way, that is excluded under the new policy.
Ahem. In other news, we got a new window installed today (you might recall that the old one just fell out about a month back), and it's beautiful and clean and shiny, and it cuts way down on noise, and it even does other window-type stuff like open and be transparent, which the other windows could not apparently manage to do without flinging themselves to the concrete in fits of suicidal depression.
So that's my good news. I have no health insurance, but I now have a window that opens, so should I choose to defenestrate myself to stop the progress of some incipient horrible disease I can do so with ease. Maybe I can make some spare cash by renting my side yard out as a toxic waste dumping ground. Then I might at least get a cool mutation.
As it is, I guess it's pimples and a really dirty mind.
That point, for me, was reached today when I was surfing my usual news sites, and discovered myself trying to finish the headline or story whenever I had to click through to get past an ad or to a new page.
"Jim and Molly Jones have opened a new pet-care store with a special focus on . . ."
"Ponygirls!"
"Police say the criminal entered through an open window and assaulted the victim with a . . ."
"Foot-long double-ended dildo! SEXY assault!"
"The teenage carjacker was apprehended after an hour-long chase through downtown, after which . . ."
"The hunky cops forced him against the car and administered some butt-swattage and deep dickings."
"Authorities say that the power should be restored to the storm-damaged area within 24 hours, but . . ."
"Not before Michelle mistakenly sleeps with her best friend AND her husband's brother, all because she went into the wrong room! Will he stop the double penetration in time!?"
"Dolly Merkins looks like any other ordinary twenty-year-old, but her pretty face hides a dark secret . . ."
"Nipple-piercings the size of shotgun shells!"
My brain is way, way out of line.
In other news:
ARRRRRRRGH!!!
Jesus fucking Christ! It's that time of year again: time to sign up for medical insurance. Stop me if you've heard this one.
First, they raise our deductible by 200% to $1,000 (that's $1,000 for each of us, not jointly), then cut in-network coverage from 90% to 70%. Then they double all copays, including those for prescription medication (meaning that the drugs I take for my thyroid cost the same as the copay, rendering it useless). Next, they remove the optical plan from the program completely, barring one eye exam every two years. And last but not least, they jack the price of this "coverage" up to $350 a month. For two healthy people with no children.
Now, let me do some math for you. That's $4,200 for coverage per year just for the basics. That, plus a $1,000 deductible for each of us is $6,500.
My medical expenses, assuming two trips to the doctor per year for exams and bloodwork, plus lab fees for these exams, plus prescription costs, plus an additional bonus of a couple hundred dollars for things like a visit to the urgent care facility or for fucking vitamins or get well cards is still only $860. My deductible is more than that! We'd be paying $4,200 for no benefits whatsoever.
Are you getting the picture? It's nothing but an ass-ream.
I am fucking disgusted that we were essentially forced to choose between having health coverage until the beginning of next year and meeting our bills for little things like water and power. It just fucking makes me sick. No goddamn joke.
I have been spitting nails about it all day. I keep hearing the doctor from The Ghost and the Darkness. "Welcome to the hospital. My advice to you is don't get sick."
Indeed.
Dropping that coverage is equivalent to giving my husband a dollar-an-hour raise. That, my friends, is ridiculous. That money will make the difference between subsisting and being able to save for retirement. And that thought should make you want to fucking puke. Because it makes me want to fucking puke.
No, I don't feel good about it at all. But it's done, and I don't really want to argue about it. I just want to find the person responsible and pummel him until he needs reconstructive surgery.
Surgery, by the way, that is excluded under the new policy.
Ahem. In other news, we got a new window installed today (you might recall that the old one just fell out about a month back), and it's beautiful and clean and shiny, and it cuts way down on noise, and it even does other window-type stuff like open and be transparent, which the other windows could not apparently manage to do without flinging themselves to the concrete in fits of suicidal depression.
So that's my good news. I have no health insurance, but I now have a window that opens, so should I choose to defenestrate myself to stop the progress of some incipient horrible disease I can do so with ease. Maybe I can make some spare cash by renting my side yard out as a toxic waste dumping ground. Then I might at least get a cool mutation.
As it is, I guess it's pimples and a really dirty mind.