Month: March 2017

Dear Me Oh My Shut The Fuck Up Already!!! By Spacedog

Life is about many things to many different people. Family, friends, money, health, wealth…. the list is endless. Each means something different to us. Some mean nothing at all.

Then there is the other end of the spectrum. Our vices. The sex, drugs and rock&roll part of our brains. Everyone has one or ten or hundreds. I tend to gravitate towards the higher end of the spectrum. I’m not sure if I could list 100 vices off the top of my head but if I could I would easily be into more than half of them.

Not that I do them every day or really all that often at all. The worst things I probably do on a daily basis is smoking cigarettes. Everything else is merely on an as wanted schedule. Sometimes there is discipline involved. Other times it is just complete debauchery and out of control.

Age has mellowed me somewhat though. Instead of indulging way too frequently like in my 20s, I usually just get angry now at certain things on my television set and in the real world.

First of all, ANY AND ALL anti commercials really need to get the FUCK off my television. Tell me to quit smoking while I have a nicotine patch on and haven’t thought about a cigarette in 3 days and well I got the subconscious thought to go out and buy a pack. Tell me not to drink and drive and I then am thinking about whether I should get drunk tonight.

Fortunately one such thing I have grown out of is trying that one random drug or ten. Most of the unknown drugs I tried I heard about on the evening or nightly local news. I get that these news types think that no druggies are watching their programs because obviously how could they possibly be interested in anything other than drugs. All promoted under the guise of protect the children which leads me to the next point.

FUCK THE KIDS! Not like Michael Jackson fuck or like Ray Rice fuck the kids in the face. I always hear about stupid shit to protect the children. I can’t go buy a pack of ten cigarettes because of oh the children. The children. Yet I can buy an airline bottle of alcohol, a single bullet of ammo, a nickle bag of weed (yes they still exist), or a small amount of pretty much anything  else considered a vice.

Some states are incredibly ridiculous with the save the children crap. Hawaii just passed a law making the smoking age 21 and New Jersey just attempted to do the same. So you can serve and die in the military and potentially die at any moment yet you can’t go on the 30-50 year death sentence known as nicotine. They need to chill out. New Jersey is even worse. They want kids to drive around with a sticker on the back of the car if under 21 and not have them drive after certain hours. Now I know I said fuck the kids but while that would stop me from well fucking kids or buying someone underage alcohol, it only means one thing. The cops get to fuck the kids. I don’t want to fuck them like that hard, unless they are in college and sex with someone potentially that inexperienced is like A Tale of Two Cities. The best of times, the worst of times.

So I’m kinda drifting like a butterfly. I really should have wrote this earlier in the day when I was just raging mad. I got a call from a friend after I left an angry voicemail about Sprint sucking fat donkey balls. I can’t roll around and listen to Spotify with them and the several phone calls I do make a week well sadly unless I call people at midnight they drop like an 80 year old’s nutsack.

So I bitched and then she said don’t drink tonight. Not that it was any of her business what the fuck I am doing later on. I really had not even given getting drunk tonight even a glance. It all goes back to do not tell me what I should not do. If you want to give me something positive to do by all means just do not tell me what not to do.

It is the reason I also have total beef with any of those absolutely fucking retarded anonymous programs. I have been to many and will be going to many again soon as part of my undercover look into boring myself into a bottle of rum. Let’s sit around and rehash old stories and bitch and whine and moan and talk about Jesus.

I seriously had issues with alcohol in the past and would be chill with well just not drinking. It makes me fat and severely obsessive. No thank you. Yet through AA I can honestly say the only thing positive I ever got out of it was roughly 10 blow jobs. Other then my 12 pack of Miller Lite cure for the common cold I had not touched a drop for over a month. (Save your fucking medal and clapping.) I only thought about it twice before I got sick. Yet in an average AA meeting alcohol is brought up 20-40 times depending on the type of meeting. Whatever happened to out of sight, out of mind? I guess stupidity won this ballgame.

So I think my beef has run out for this evening. If I typed every vice related issue I want to address, I would never leave this seat. So what exactly gets on your last nerves? Or who would you like to tell to go fuck themselves?

I Was A Teenage Murder Junkie pt.3: Here Come The Cops

As suddenly as they were switched off the stage lights burst back on. The confused and intoxicated crowd mingled around desperately trying to figure out what the fuck was going on with the on and off again lights. Just then the basement door flung open with such impact that when it slammed against the wall it sounded like a goddamn concussion grenade. The Bar/Club owner bum rushed into the room like a bull released from its pen at a rodeo. He strode to the middle of the room and promptly announced that do to “The Destructive Behavior Bullshit” and ” A Totally Fucked Up Band Lead By A Bald Degenerate Fucking Nightmare” was shutting the show down immediately. This did not bode well with the fans in the least. Instantly the Owner (and the 4 or five bouncers he had brought with him to work security, mainly his own) was plunged into a barrage of insults, violent threats, and pro GG Allin rhetoric. Needless to say the Owner made an extremely hasty retreat back upstairs to his bar. GG then took this pause in the pandemonium to address the crowd.

“Fuck is this Shit?! We want to keep playing but these motherfuckers keep cutting the power! The owner wants to shut our show the fuck down, do you want us to stop?!” GG yelled belligerently at the still awe struck audience. The unanimous answer of the crowd rang out like riot as fans screamed over each other like methhead auctioneers.

“FUCK NO!”, “GG IS GOD!”, “FUCK THIS SHIT!”, “RIOT TIME MOTHERFUCKERS!”, “WE WANT BLOOD!”, “BLOOD FOR YOU!”, “EAT MY FUCK!” and so on and so forth.

This incited GG like gasoline being pissed on a fire. GG was scowling in intense hatred apparently for everything and everybody present. GG was pacing the stage back and forth like a caged fucking animal as he quickly picked up his pace. GG grabbed a crushed beer can from the side of the stage and then used it to slash his torso preparedly  like some primitive caveman’s knife.

From what I had reseated about GG Allin this kind of shitshow common occurrence at GG’s concerts. GG Allin concerts/shows on average only lasted 15-20 minutes total before (like now) the Club owner cut the power or the venue was stormed by the police. GG had been at this point in career to be arrested 52 times for lied acts, indecent exposure, obscenity and even shitting on stage. I had watched the infamous GG Allin documentary films called “Hated: GG Allin and The Murder Junkies” by a young Todd Phillips in 1994 (a year after GG’s death due to surprise, surprise a Heroin Overdose on June 28th 1993) In the documentary GG’s older brother Merle Allin and bass player for The Murder Junkies is interviewed rather extensively throughout. In one of the interview clips Merle even states this fact further.

Merle commented that”When you went on tour (with GG) you never expect to finish the tour and thats for one of two reasons either The Hospital or Jail.” referring to the fact due to his stage show GG not only could/would be arrested , but due to his intense performances GG could also just as easily end up in the ER.

Thats when a small calvary of cops started to slowly file into the basement show venue like the fucking gestapo. Apparently the Owner had fled back upstairs and called in the cops ASAP to bail him and his Bar out of serious trouble. The crown seemed to split into to distinctly different groups this point. The one group were the ambivalent and angst filled Anarchistic fans who stood their ground while antagonizing the cops relentlessly. The second group were the polar opposite as the scrambled for any exit out of the show before getting beaten and arrested by the militant police personnel.

My buddy and coworker Chuck has decided being antiauthoritarian to the core of his basic being was siding with those who chosen to enter into the escalating conflict with the cops. Meanwhile my other friend and coworker Mike and I agreed it was in our best interest to skedaddle like our lives depended on it.

While the insanity ensued The Murder Junkies stood on the stage just a confused as anyone else caught up in the may lay. GG had abandoned the stage and immersed himself in the crowd to avoid initial detection by the conclave of cops. A handful of GG’s hardcore fans had grouped up and were now attempting to get GG out of the building before being apprehended by the asshole authorities.

 

“GG Over here, Over Here GG Come on lets get you the fuck outta here” yelled the group of hardcore fans desperately trying to get GG’s attention, and aid him in his escape from prosecution. Finally at last GG’s then girlfriend Liz (who was leading the group) managed to grab GG”s arm and redirect him. The problem was while the escape group comprised of die hard fans had united and caught up with their quarry still had no real plan for escape. The motley crew of super fans circled around GG and were aimlessly migrating through the crowd towards the stage at the back of the room (being the farthest point away from increasing police presence). Once they reached the stage GG pushed and shoved his way over to his brother Merle who was still standing on the right stage smoking a cigarette. Mike and I figured GG and his Mega Fans were experts at exactly this, and being we too wanted to bail the fuck out for the identical reason figured it be wisest to follow them. We managed to make our way through the small sea of human bumper cars to the back of the room by the left side of the stage.

By now the the fight the power fans  were locked in full on combat with the cops. Swearing at cops had turned into swinging on the cops. Beer bottles were being pelted at the police along with anything else that wasn’t bolted down. The police retaliated with excessive amount of mace and then upped the ante by taking their tazers out. As the first few fans were rendered enabled by the first wave of tazings the crowd got crazier. Fans were using chair legs and other various debris to club the cops like police piñatas. Some fans were flailing all over like snakes having seizures as the police used zip ties to restrain them. Others were continuing the chaotic carnage by battling the police, and others already detained and restrained were being led out of the show in a single file line. A security guard of the Owner had been leveled to the ground and was being mercilessly kicked and stomped by a growing gang of blood thirsty violent minded fans. The building noise was reaching a deafening level as all hell and high water had laid complete waste to any as resemblance of a concert.

Mike and I while following GG and his escape artist hardcore fans we had become stuck up against the left side of the stage. We could no longer move having been blocked in by a number of other concert goers who launched into a fan on fan full out fist fight. At this moment I looked over at Mike who shot his gaze up to the actual stage and I instantly knew what he meant. Mike hoisted himself up onto the stage accidentally bumping into the then guitarist for The Murder Junkies William Weber. Mike then helped me as clambered up on stage. The members of The Murder Junkies barely batted an eyelash at us as if to let us know they could care less who the hell we were. We weaved around behind the drum kit and the drummer Dino The Naked Drummer who was vacantly staring off into space or some shit. Once we had achieved moving across the stage Mike grabbed my arm. I asked him what the fuck could he possibly want, and thats when Mike directed my attention to behind the curtain hanging behind Dino. It was hiding the back wall where there to our enormous luck there was loading dock door. Its one of those street level doors you see walking down the street that opens from the basement of the building, and onto the street for receiving deliveries and such. This was the chink in the aggressive storm of utter anarchy that would be our escape to the freedom on the street. Just then Mike did something that surprised the shit out of me and then some. Mike fought his way over to the front right of the stage and blurted out,

“GG! GG! We can get you out right fucking now, COME ON!!”

READERS: Stay tuned For The Final Installment Of This 4 Part Piece.                       I Was A Teenage Murder Junkie pt. 4: The Salvation of the Street                 COMING SOON DATE TBD

I don’t Know What I Am, But I Know I’m Great

I live in live in the back right corner of the Cardboard Neighborhood with its four tall walls and retractable ceiling located in the Southern territory of The Closet.

I’m not Alone, though I wish I was.
My neighbors are a bunch of troglodytes to say the least.
Who are my Neighbors you ask? Well, fine I’ll tell you though it’s a waste of both of our time.
The first of my neighbors is a rather large pocket knife. PK as I call him because I don’t know or want to know his actual name.
He’s a bore. He never talks. He just periodically blurts out military slogans such as ‘Death before dishonor” and “Remember the Alamo”.
There is a gang of condoms that while still attached to each other like siamese twins are without a proper box like a bunch of savages.
All the condoms want to do is talk to the small army of naked women in the large stack of magazines where apparently clothes are forbidden.
The magazine girls and the condoms just hit on each other all day in an endless string of “Ohs” and “Ahs” .
I don’t know any of the condoms names, or the army of naked ladies names, but if I had to make an educated guess I’d say that they all appear to be called “Baby”.
I can survive my asinine neighbors because I am special.
Those outside the cardboard confines of the neighborhood call me The Big Bad Boy.
They claim I can take your head off like a shotgun.
Thus I think its safe to assume I am in fact royalty.
Yet if you’re not convinced of my awe inspiring greatness then you can choke on this.
I’m the only one in the neighborhood who gets invited to the land of giants.
At least twice a day the giant named Tim comes and collects me.
I believe Tim is the leader of this particular group of giants.
Once in a while it’s just me and Tim hanging out, this again proves my greatness as I’m the only one the giant Tim consults in private behind the curtain of his court.
Most of the time though when Tim comes to collect me he is surrounded by his fellow giant friends who play second fiddle to Tim.
Tim lifts me out of the cardboard neighborhood and carries me to the bathroom, as it is called, yet I have not seen a single giant taking a bath in all these long years.
The Giant Tim turns on a metal appendage protruding from something called a sink.
Tim then fills my belly full of cold, crisp, clean water.
The cool water flows directly down into my awaiting belly via my mouth which is always agape.
Then Tim takes me back to the land of giants which I like to refer to as Timsland.
Tim places me on a low circular table which his friend giants are sitting around so that they may admire me.
I’m the most stunning centerpiece these giants have ever known.
After a few minutes of idle chit chat the giant Tim along with his friends take turns filling my belly button with various exotic and quite aromatic plants with names like “Grape Ape” or “OG Kush”
I suppose these are gifts paying tribute to me and all that I am.
Then the truly grand party begins.
Giant Tim lights sweet smelling sticks called Intense I believe due to the pungent trails of smoke that drift from its end when exposed to fire.
Tim then plays the music of other giants I’ve never met with strange and exotic names like Metallica, Slayer, and Anthrax at a rather high volume.
Tim then sits down with his fellow giants around the table.
He takes a small combustable device and creates a small flickering flame.
He then holds the small flame up to my belly button and sets the exotic plant, given to me as a tribute, on fire.
As the plant smolders in my belly button Tim inhales the smoke through my entire body and out through a rather large hole in my head.
After I make my rounds the giants are pleased with me and agree I am something referred to as “Cool as shit” which is obviously another dubious title for me affirming I am royalty even more so.
The giants then lounge around Timsland eyes half closed in satisfaction.
They giggle, laugh, smile and thoroughly enjoy themselves in my company.
Still, things are not always so copacetic in Timsland.
Timsland is under constant threat by an even larger female giant known as an Adult.
Sometimes during the parties the Adult summons Tim and Tim makes a frantic exit while the other giants look on anxiously.
But it can get even worse I tell you.
Sometimes the Adult storms into Timsland and crashes the party she wasn’t invited to.
When the Adult invades Timsland Tim immediately hides me from view.
I believe this is because the larger Adult wants to capture me for my endless greatness and take me far away from Timsland to serve only her.
Tim being the smaller of the two giants would not fair well in a physical confrontation so he must hide me so I can’t be confiscated by the Adult threat.
One day the Adult found where Tim was hiding me.
The Adult was enraged at Tim keeping her from me and she then kidnapped me.
I was thrown into a prison known as The basement were I was confined to an old luggage trunk.
I spent my days longing for Tim to come and steal me back and take me to Timsland to be properly celebrated.
Days turned into months and I was convinced I was abandoned or perhaps exiled by the angry Adult.
I had given up all hope as my days of glory were far gone.
That was until the Adult came to collect me and fill my belly with cold, crisp, clean water.

I Will Never Forget How To Stand On My Head By Spacedog

I tenderly caressed the back of his head. My arm was still bleeding though so I had to stop.

Another vein gone.

Another dream lost.

I told him I loved him and he replied with the same in turn. It was cold and vacant, a blizzard of deceipt, a blizzard of discontent. We were chained together by our frivolity, linked together but nothing else.

He was the prize I had won at the carnival of malaise, a trinket I picked up at a child’s lemonade stand. Oh but how the lemonade grew bitter in taste and pungent in stench. Still I showed off my trinket like rappers show off their bling and socialites show off their fine china. I knew I was buying damaged goods from the beginning yet this did not matter. This trinket, he was a challenge
and I for one have great difficulty in backing down from those, no matter the price my soul might pay.

After time though, my senses slowly returned to me. The darkness seeped out of my pores and I had no more need for my fallen angel. The ideals of brute intimidation, frigid love, and penetrating midgets no longer matched that of my own. So the tie was severed. The bond was broken. I moved on.

I had lost my way but I still knew how to stand on my head and flip my life around and be done.

I will never forget how to stand on my head. I have countless times.

Why?

Sometimes there is never an answer for why we do what we do. People ask us and we try to discern what is best in our heads at the time. I was asked by many a friend, why him, why that man. It fulfulled the need of accomplishment in me at the time.

Instant gratification. I wanted it to be the deepest depths of the ocean, when in my head I knew it was the kiddie pool.

These are all just guesses to me now. I do not know the person I was back then. He is different then the one I am today. I am just speculating. The aspects of my persona change daily. I am still the same deep at my core. But the person who wakes up out of bed with me each and every morning, he is different. The surface does not always match the depths.

So why do we swim in the kiddie pool when we all want the ocean? Why?

Your Health Insurance is Financially Raping You To Death

The Fairytale History of Health Insurance:

Health Insurance would provide a service where the client sends in Monthly checks for your entire life. When the client needs, Hospitalization, Surgery, ER Emergency, Illness, Doctor Visits, Specialists, Medications etc. the insurance company uses the clients money to cover any medical issue. Of course the Health Insurance Companies would charge a reasonable fee for their services since they deal directly with your doctors and medical institutions.

What The Hell Happened?

Health Insurance Companies realized the more money the refused to pay the richer they became, and they sold their souls to the Deity of the Dollar.    The Health Insurance Companies started restricting its coverage, constantly increasing rates, and finding ways TO NOT PAY YOUR CLAIM.

Health Insurance Companies employ a whole fucking department of people who’s only job is to review client claims and FIND ANY REASON/LOOPHOLES so your Healthcare Provider WON’T HAVE TO PAY YOUR CLAIM, essentially doing the opposite of its intended purpose.

Seriously the Health Insurance’s business model wouldn’t work for any other business because people wouldn’t use it and it’d go bankrupt. What other industry or company or product maker raises their prices periodically all year, every year WHILE REDUCING THE SERVICES.

Would you tolerate your local grocery store say constantly increasing the price of Milk for instance and at the same time giving you less milk for your money. If your grocer continued raising the price of a gallon of Milk from today’s current price of $2.25 up to$3.75 ,and then a month later to $6.00 and then $7.99 next month and so on all year long. BUT not only is your grocer raising the price but SIMULTANEOUSLY your grocer would be giving less Milk for the Money. See as the price goes up you’d get less Milk at first it be just a little under a gallon then 2/3 of a gallon, and then only half a gallon at newly inflated GALLON Milk prices.

Then there’s The Deductible which is one of the greatest and greediest scams in Health Insurance History. The deductible works as follows. You pay a set amount of money out of your own pocket for your medical care WHILE SENDING A CHECK EVERY MONTH TO YOUR HEALTH INSURANCE PROVIDER. Can you say “Legal Double Billing”?! That be the equivalent of taking your car to your mechanic and he makes you fix the car yourself (using your labor and cash for needed parts) and then giving you a bill for the repair. ITS FUCKING INSANE THAT PEOPLE PUT UP WITH THIS CORRUPT CAPITALISTIC GREED LIKE THIS EVERY DAY.

I will once again use a Bullet Point format for the rest.

  1. My Aunt Ellington needed a hip replacement, and put it off for years in spite of the fact they she had what is considered a good health care provider. She asked me politely not to name the Health Insurance Company and out of respect for her I won’t. She knew the out of pocket would be a significant amount of money. She finally had the surgery and it cost a total of $117,000. Her insurance company paid only $17,000 leaving her with a $100,000 in medical bills, AND THEY STILL WANTED THEIR MONTHY PAYMENTS.
  2. I had a best friend in high school named Brooklyn Billy Bob who I still talk to sporadicly to this day. Right before I met Brooklyn Billy Bob his family had just moved in with his grandmother not by choice but necessity. The family didn’t have a lot of money to speak of. During the long moving process Brooklyn Billy Bob’s dad, who had a serious health issue pertaining to his heart, couldn’t afford his heart medication. As a result Brooklyn Billy Bob’s dad DIED because he couldn’t pay for his LIFE SAVING MEDICATION.
  3. Pharmaceutical companies who work hand in hand with your Health Insurance Company DO NOT CREATE CURES, THEY CREATE CLIENTS. Think for a second on how the Pharmaceutical companies are COMMERCIALIZING YOUR HEALTH FOR PROFIT.
  4. Lets not forget the American Government whose politicians make MILLIONS on Health Insurance and Pharmaceutical companies Lobbyists HAVE INSTATED A $2,500 YEARLY FINE if you DON’T have (lets be honest its if you don’t pay for) Health Insurance.
  5. When I went to rehab for a vicious heroin addiction which SAVED MY LIFE my Doctor had to call/talk to my Health Insurance Provider DAILY because they wanted to booted out asap so they wouldn’t have to pay any more claims. My Doctor had to LIE TO HELP SAVE MY LIFE. Each day my doctor got on the phone with my Health Insurance Provider and had to lie so I didn’t get kicked out because my Health Insurance Provider didn’t want to pay to cover my again LIFE SAVING treatment. My Doctor was smart he knew I COULDN’T be removed from Rehab IF i was either SUICIDAL or HOMICIDAL (the rule is simply you can’t be taken out of treatment for Insurance reasons if your a threat to yourself or others). My Doctor did this dance for 17 days and I did end up getting released early because of the bullshit with my Health Insurance Provider (who ultimately got what they wanted which was ending treatment asap)
  6. EVEN WORSE my Wife is an RN who works in the Drug Addiction field and the Insurance vs. Rehab War continues. Since the dawn of Drug Rehab Health Insurance companies have been trying with all their financial might to DENY ALL ADDICTS LOOKING FOR HELP. The Insurance Companies HATE REHAB because unfortunately addicts relapse and may need more help to stay clean and healthy. Insurance claims this “Revolving Door” of the Rehab field justifies NOT PAYING ANYONES REHAB CLAIMS EVER AGAIN. The war has raged for decades, BUT finally the Insurance Companies have started to win. They have rearranged protocols in their favor. Example there is a treatment evaluation used when a patient is admitted to a rehab that gauges their current physical health from 1-10 with 10 being the worst. The Insurance companies have announced that if a patient comes in to be admitted if their symptoms are 1-5 THEY AREN’T PAYING because in their opinion aren’t in actual need of medical help. They are also making medical institutions write EVER THING in a patients medical chart 3 requiring the ENTIRE treatment teams signatures. This is a way to encourage little mistakes by the staff that the Insurance Companies can then use to DENY THE PATIENT CARE. This will create a massive social problem. If drug addicts can’t get help the keep using, and if they keep using they keep lying, cheating, stealing, robbing and scaring to feed their habit before it ends their life prematurely. Its bad enough our prisons are over crowed due to drug offenses (such as possession) that has created a over crowding situation. This over crowding allows NEW OR REPEAT VIOLENT OFFENDERS being brought into the prison system to be released extremely early because there is no place to put them. The fact is drug addicts should be sentenced to Rehab NOT PRISON, Addiction is called a disease BUT its actually a treatable Metal Disorder.
  7. One thing a that baffles me in the Health Insurance field is they DON’T PROVIDE FERTILITY COVERAGE FOR WOMAN OR MEN. The Insurance Companies will chip in once a woman is pregnant. WHATS WEIRD is Health Insurance Companies are GREEDY AS FUCK so why wouldn’t they cover fertility?! MY POINT if a couple has a kid then the kids going to need Health Insurance and thus get added to their parents policy and then at 18 they have to pay for their own policy. So kids equal customers and customers equal cash.
  8. When I had Hepatitis C which if untreated will end your life painfully and prematurely I saw a Specialist who was a fucking godsend, a miracle in the form of a man. There at the time I was seeking treatment a slew of new and more effective Hep-C drugs hitting the market. It was because the FDA was pumping cash into the Hep-C drugs after they announced the #1 health problem facing America was Liver Transplants. My Doctor researched EVERY drug and decided one a 2 medication combo that had virtually NO SIDE EFFECTS (up till VERY recently the only treatment for Hep-C was Interferon injections which have the identical side effects as Chemotherapy causing a whopping 91% of prior patients to end treatment before completing the course of Interferon ) AND IT COULD CURE HEP-C as opposed to possibly wrestling it into submission like Cancer. Well no surprise my Health Insurance Provider wasn’t at all happy about my treatment plan. My Specialist called my Health Insurance Provider and managed to get them to clear his treatment plan for me by USING THEIR GREED AGAINST THEM. His argument simply was this by biting the bullet and paying for my treatment NOW then I’d live a full lifetime which meant my Health Insurance Provider would continue to get monthly checks much longer. Bottomline Dead People DON’T FUCKING PAY FOR HEALTH INSURANCE HEALTHY PEOPLE DO.
  9. JUST YESTERDAY I went to my local pharmacy to pick up my medication and was told the price was $131.00 when I was paying $10 with my HUMANA Insurance plan. The Pharmacist told me my  HUMANA insurance card expired so I thought it was no big deal I’d just have to order a new one. I called  HUMANA my Insurance Provider as soon as I got home, and the representative informed me my Health Insurance had been CANCELLEd AS OF JANUARY 31ST.. I’ve been with that Insurance company 14-15 years and NEVER missed a single payment. So as you can image I was in a state of shock, awe and serious confusion. I asked the representative why and he proceeded to duck my question for an hour before finally coming up with this statement “HUMANA is NO LONGER providing the plan I was insured under in my area.” I asked him what the fuck that meant as thats not a proper answer and to me made no fucking sense at the time. Again he would answer fully and just kept repeating his “NO LONGER IN YOUR AREA” statement so I hung the fuck up. I immediately called back and asked the second representative the question of what the previous statement meant. She had no problem answering me and said with out a pause “HUMANA IN FACT HAD DECIDED TO NOT INSURE ANYONE ANY MORE IN MY ENTIRE STATE.” This means 100’s of thousands or more people LOST THEIR HUMANA/HUMANA ONE HEALTH INSURANCE COVERAGE BY NO FAULT OF THEIR OWN. Bottomline HUMANA/HUMANA ONE decided to stop providing coverage for the ENTIRE STATE because it was a “High Claims State” and what do Health Insurance Companies hate? Yup PAYING YOUR HEALTH INSURANCE CLAIMS.
  10. SHOP AROUND! While Health Insurance is a Scam based on FEAR and GREED you should opt for the lesser of all the evils, and by evils I mean the Health Insurance Companies. I got dropped by HUMANA due to HUMANA’S GROWING NEED FOR GREED, but in the end I got NEW plan with BLUE CROSS BLUE SHIELD with not only the SAME COVERAGE for LESS MONEY and FULL DENTAL & OPTICAL which I never had with HUMANA/HUMANA ONE.

In Summation the Salvation of Health lies in Social Medicine. I know back in the early days when the American politicians where debating The Affordable Care Act the greedy unethical and immoral GOP launched a propaganda campaign demonizing social medicine. The claims the Republicans made WERE ABSOLUTELY FALSE it was a blatant fear tactic to scare the American public into submission and it worked. Why did it work so well?

Americans believe whatever they hear now a days instead of thinking about them first. A pivotal point in the propaganda was social medicine would increase taxes, BUT IF the American public had stopped and done the math they would easily see the tax would be FAR LESS THEN THE CURRENT PRIVATE HEALTH INSURANCE COVERAGE.

If you remember my Aunt got stuck with $100,000 medical bill AFTER HER HEALTH INSURANCE PAID THEIR PART ($17,000 out of at total cost of $117,000) SO I ask you which costs more a tax increase or a $100,000 medical bill after being fucked over by your Health Insurance Provider?!

Its unAmerican that Capitalism now dictates your health care. You pay or you SUFFER and you pay or you DIE. We have the doctors, facilities, treatments, and medications that could help heal people BUT we will let them SUFFER AND DIE because MONEY IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN PEOPLE.