Non Fiction – Page 4

Another Good Man Is Dead

It’s a Truly Sad Day here at FYB as I found out Earlier Today that My Oldest and Dearest Friends Mike BlueJetSki Dies to Soon Last Night of Congestive Heart Failure. Ever Since I found Out the World Seems to Be Somewhat Off as if Reality has Suddenly gone Askew. Another Fallen Friend to Bid Farewell to Another Death, Another Celebration of Deceased’s Life, Another Grave Needs Filling.

I’m not what You would call a Sentimental sort of Person so This is Far, Far, Far from any Biographical Memoire, but Alas I still have Shit to Say. I met Mike when I switched Schools right Before 9th Grade. It’s needless to say High School fucking Sucks, and Teenagers are Assholes so being an Interloper in a Group of fellow Students who have been fucking Classmates since fucking Elementary School. Mike was the First Person to approach Me and extend His Hand in Friendship.

Mike was an extremely Talented Self Taught Guitarist who I had the distinct Pleasure of Playing with in Several High School Bands with such as Burnt Toast, The Severed Heads, Rules of a Riot, The Satanic MC Collective, Shit Out of Luck, Far From Sober, and most Notably Stank Breath. Mike and I were part of the Motley Crew of Heavy Metal Loving, Pot Smoking, Underage Drinking Head Banger Slackers who’s only real accomplishment was Not Dropping Out or Flunking out of High School. For some in Our Circle of Friends that was a Tall Order I assure You.

Mike was also an Amazing Mechanic who was Born with a Natural Talent for Working with His Hands. I stopped by Mike’s Grandmothers House where Mike was Helping Her Clean Out Her Cluttered Attic. While Rummaging Through the Contents of the Attic Mike had come across His Grandfather’s Korean War Rifle. Now Mike had Obviously never seen a Korean War Rifle since He was Born After the Korean War Itself. It took Mike Meer Minutes to Completely Disassemble the Rifle, Clean it, and Reassemble it Flawlessly in Perfect Working Order .

During Our Junior Year of High School Mike’s Mother Started Dating since Sad to Say Mike’s Father had Died at an Early Age as Well of Heart Related Issues (The Kicker was He was on Medication that would have kept Him alive Accept for a Short Period He couldn’t Afford it and Paying the Bills. Talk about putting Family First and True Sacrifice.) a few Years before I met Him. Mike’s Mom was a Unconventional Character who was Honestly Quite Lonely and wanted Someone, Anyone really to Live out the Rest of Her Days With. After a long line of fucking Loser’s She impulsively Married a Southern Religious Fanatic and Old School Racist Asshole Don without Ever meeting Him in Person Prior to the Wedding (this was Pre Internet so They had to write actual Letters and Use Landlines to Communicate.)

Mike’s Mom suddenly announced one Day soon after Marrying Don the Dick to Dothan Alabama of all fucking Shitholes because thats were Don and His Family Lived, and They (Mike and His Siblings) had just under 2 weeks to get Their Shit Together before the Actual Moving Day. Again back in those Days there Weren’t wasn’t the Internet or Social Media or Skype so as I said communication could be Slow and for that matter inconsistent. The Only other Option outside of Snail Mail was Land Lines that Charged a small fucking fortune for Long Distance Calls. Being Teenagers Niether Mike nor I had any Money or source of Income so I could Move with Mike, and Mike couldn’t Move Back.

I did manage to Sell Enough Pot to Visit Mike During Spring Break to Don’s Dismay in Fact Don Claimed that if I came to Visit I’d “Bring the Devil to Alabama.” which being a Heavy Metal Fan and Teenager I thought was pretty fucking bad ass. In the End Mike’s Mom Divorced Don who became Mentally Unstable increasingly more and more as Time Passed. One Day Mike found Don sitting in the Kitchen with a Loaded Shotgun ranting about Murdering Mike. Mike tackled Don who was out of Shape and Obese and Wrenched the Shotgun from Him which He then locked in the Trunk of His car for Safe Keeping.

Mike was seriously one of the Most Artistically creative People I have EVER had the Sincere Pleasure of Knowing. Mike could Improvise like a Motherfucker No Matter what was Going On Mike could whip up a Song, Fictional Character, Short Story, or Movie Plot just to name a Few of Mike’s Natural Born Talents. Mike was the Ultimate Creative Collaborator the Synergy was fucking Insane like Two People living as One. Mike was the kind of Friend that We didn’t even Need to Talk, No verbalization Necessary to Communicate through just a series of Looks You’d know exactly what either of Us was Thinking/Feeling. It was Uncanny it Really fucking was. I image that being Friends with Mike equated to the Unexplained Link between sets of Twins.

Mike was also one of the Friendliest, Most Open Minded, Loyal, Caring, and Zen like People to ever walk the fucking Planet. I appreciated that being an Introvert who Spends Far too much Time in My own Head (sometimes to My Detriment) being Motivated by My Emotions. One of if not the Best piece of fucking Advice that has served Me well Over a Vast number of Years I got From Mike. I forget the exact Details other than We were Hanging Out in some Public Place, and I started to get Paranoid as a Motherfucker for some reason I can’t Remember. Mike Stared Me Dead in the Eye and in all seriousness said “Maybe what You think is going on ISN’T Going on because its all in Your Head??!”

Sad to Say that for Several Years Mike and I lost Touch until Our fucking Cliche finding One Another on (and it Pains Me so to Admit) Facebook back before Zuckerberg and I got into Our Battle of Wills. I will say this One of the first fucking things I did when the Bullshit FB shit happened I almost immediately exchanged Phone Numbers to Keep FB communications to a minimum. Unfortunately I ended up Abandoning Facebook which inadvertently lead to another Period of Separation if You will. Time went by and We ironically reconnected again on FaceBook, but it was Through My Wife who acted as My FB Middle Woman. From then on We talked several times a Month, but the Coolest Part was no matter how long it had been once We were reunited it wasn’t awkward or Weird in Any way whatsoever. Mike and I would simply Pick Up exactly whereWe left Off like No Time had passed at all.

My One and Only Regret is Not Seeing Mike in Person Face to Face since the Trip I took Junior Year to Visit Him. Technology has the Power to Connect, But it has No Personality. Some things can Only be done in Person there is absolutely No Technical Equivalent and Never fucking will be.

In Closing : I will Never Forget or Stop Missing My Dearly Departed Friend who I am sure is Giving Them Hell in Heaven.

Thanks for Giving a Shit & Reading,

By Les Sober

An FYB PSA: When Confronted By Cops

It’s No Secret that I have NO Love for the Police Just Endless Seething Contempt and Disgust. Now True I Hate Authority Figures, But I’m also Not an Ignorant Asshole. Thats to Say I have had PLENTY of Interaction with Police over the Years enough to Know that Cops are Crooks with Badges. The Police Abuse Their Power CONSTANTLY to the Point the Police are the Biggest Criminal Organization in America Today.

BOTTOMLINE: If there are such things as So Called “Good Cops” why then Don’t They Stop the Bad Cops? Thats because while these alleged “Good Cops” aren’t corrupt or abuse their Power THEY DON’T REPORT THE BAD ONES. That’s because even these “Good Cops” adhere to the Code of Silence which is UTTERLY FUCKED. The Rule of Silence is You Don’t Narc Out Your Fellow Police Officers NO MATTER WHAT even if They’re more Crooked than the Criminals just because You’re a Cop Too. And these professedly “Good Cops” still abide by the Code of Silence that Allows Corrupt Cops to Run Rampant in the Street. It’s the World’s Biggest DOUBLE STANDARD. How the Hell can You Be a So Called “Good Cop” if You Allow and Enable the Corrupt Cops to Continue Abusing Their Position by keeping Your Mouth Shut?!!!

With that Said Here are 5 Tips on How to Deal with The Police:

You are NOT Under ANY Obligation to Exit Your Vehicle. Doing so Enables The Police to UNLAWFULLY do a Precursory Visual Search of Your Vehicle. To Circumvent this, Keep ALL Your Doors LOCKED, Crack Your Window enough for a Fist to Snugly fit Through the Opening. ASK WHY You were being Stopped, and Hand the Officer the Identification He/She Requested ONCE THEY ANSWER, Then ROLL THE WINDOW BACK UP.

2. If the Officer asks You for Permission to Search Your Vehicle, Ver Politely and Calmly say the Following: “In Accordance with My 4th United States Constitutional Amendment Rights DECLINE YOUR REQUEST until You Provide Me with a SEARCH WARRANT issued by a MAGISTRATE”, then say NOTHING MORE to The Officers NO MATTER what They Say and/or Threaten to Do. Police DO NOT have the right to Open Your Car Door, Some MAY TRY to do this, this is Why You MUST KEEP Your Door Shut and Locked During a Traffic Stop.

3. Contrary to what the Police might TRY to tell You, it is NOT ILLEGAL TO RECORD THEM during the Performance of Their Duties as Long as You maintain a Distance from Them that DOES NOT give Them Justifiable Reason to Claim You Impeaded upon Them Preforming Their SWORN DUTIES. In Criminal Statutes, impeding upon the Sworn Duties of a Law Enforcement Officer is called “Obstruction of Justice”. If You maintain a Distance of 12 to 15 feet from the Officer You are Recording if You are NOT the Person of Interest then They will have NO JUSTIFIABLE REASON to claim Onstruction of Justice, and Arrest You. IF You are the Officer’s Person of Interest, a CLOSER Distance of 4 to 5 Feet is Suitable for Filming.

AGAIN, IT IS NOT ILLEGAL TO RECORD THE POLICE AT ANY TIME. If the Officer says Differently He/She is Straight up LYING which Cops do all the Time because They Know People are Scared and Intimidated by Them and Have No Clue About the Law or Their Actual Legal Rights. The Police Exploit the Public’s Ignorance and Fear to Literally throw the Rule Book out the Window, and Conduct Themselves anyway They fucking Want even if it VIOLATES YOUR RIGHTS.

4. On March 23, 2015 The United States Supreme Court Rules that Law Enforcement can NOT DETAIN DRIVERS While Waiting for a POLICE K-9 Unit. If a Police Officer THREATENS YOU with a K-9 when You Decline His/Her Request to Search You and/or Your Vehicle, You May Politely Remind the Officer of this Ruling. Ask if You are in Fact Under Arrest for Anything then again Politely ASK TO GO since the Officer has NO PROBABLE CAUSE to Detain You any Longer. If the Officer says “No” to Your Request, The Officer has VIOLATED Their OATH to Uphold the Law, BUT Your 4th Constitutional Amendment Right against UNLAWFUL DETENTION as well as CRIMINAL LAW FOR FALSE IMPRISONMENT.

5. Lastly but Not Least REMEMBER TO ALWAYS RECORD ALL INTERACTIONS WITH THE POLICE!!! Video Evidence of Police Misconduct is a Valuable Thing to Insure Bad Cops get fucking Fired. IT IS NOT ILLEGAL TO RECORD THE POLICE!!!

The Old Police Motto of Protect and Serve has Evolved into a Comply or DIE Mentality as Cops begin to forget Their Job is to UPHOLD the Law while in fact THEY ARE NOT THE LAW. Cops have a SERIOUS POWER TRIP Mentality that reduces them to NOTHING but Bullies with Badges. And then the PUSSIES cry like BITCHES when People criticize Them or Flip them the Bird meanwhile They are Robbing, Raping and Murdering at Will. THE COPS ARE CRIMINALS TOO Don’t Be Fooled, Don’t Allow Yourself to be Bullshitted by The Thugs in Blue.

BLUE LIVES MATTER MY ASS.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Before There Were Hackers There Were Phreaks

To Understand The Following We have to Transport Ourselves to a Time before Smart Phones, Before the Cell Phones, and Before Even the Internet. This was the Time Decades ago Where the Phone Company Giants Totally Dominated Communication (Other than Phones there was only Snail Mail or Faxes) World as People Knew it. In this Time there were Only Two types of Phones Landlines for Your Home and Pay Phones if You were Out and About. While Pay Phones Turned a Pretty Penny in Profits The Phone Companies Real Cash Cow was Long Distance Phone Calls. The Phone Companies would Charge Callers like Pay Phones by Billing Them PER MINUTE for Long Distance Phone Calls, and of course the farther One called the More Expensive The Cost. Thats why when Cell Phones first Showed Up it was a Big Deal and a Real Bitch that People could Make FREE Long Distance Nights (Starting at 9 pm) and All Weekend.

Where Ever there are People in Power or a Dominate System of Communication there will be Those People Who will fuck with it Six Days a Week and Twice on Sunday. One of Those Most Influential (if Not the Number One) founder of The Phone Phreak Subculture Movement was Joe Engressia from Richmond, Virginia. Joe was Born Blind and from the Time He was a Small Child had a growing Fascination with the Phone System and More Over Manipulate it. As a Child Joe was in the Habit of Calling what was Referred to as Recording Phones Calls.

I will pause here a minute to explain to Our Reader’s Who may Be Unaware of what the Hell a Recording Call was. It was a simplistic money making scam where Someone would/could set up a Pre Recorded Story, Horoscope, Song Etc. and Then People were able to Call a Specific Phone Number to Listen to Whatever the fuck the Recording was for a Fee that is. Sometimes it was a Flat one time per Call Charge or it might charge People by The Minute as well.

Now back to Our Story. Joe had a habit of Whistling to Himself while He listened to said Recordings. One Day when Joe (Who was also Born with Perfect Pitch) was Eight He realized that when He hit a Certain Pitch when He was Whistling the Recordings would Automatically Shut Off. Joe’s fascination in the Phone System started to turn into a Life Long Obsession. The Tone Joe was able to Identify as well as Mimic was 2600Hz which turned out to be the Key in Control. Using the 2600Hz Tone People were then able to TRICK the Phone System into Thinking They were an Actual Operator. Once the Phone System duped into thinking the Caller was an Operator They could make FREE Long Distance Calls, Open Conference Calls, and Route Calls to Specific Parts of the World for Example.

This Obviously pissed Off the Phone Companies to No End as Phone Phreaks were cutting into Their Bottom Line. Joe was Arrested while attending the Collage of Florida because He was Providing His Fellow Students access Free Long Distance by Joe mimicking The 2600 Hz Tone. A Local Paper caught wind of the Story and shortly After it was Published suddenly Other People Who also had learned Ways to Manipulate the Phone System started to contact Joe. Phone Phreaks like the Hackers of Today Use Monikers to Identify Themselves to Protect Their Anonymity since Phone Phreaking like Hacking was Illegal. Some of Those People who were The Top Phone Phreaks of the Time were Captain Crunch, Even Door Bell, Mike From New York, and Joe had adopted the Moniker Joy Bubbles.

At this Point Joe started to Meticulous Notes Chronicling EVERYTHING Phreak Related that He knew or Learned becoming the a Communication Hub for Other Phone Phreaks. Unfortunately this also led to Joe being Arrested for a Second Time when a Undercover Agent TRICKED Joe into talking about His Phone Phreaking Activities. The Agent then Use the Information He had collected to acquire a Search Warrant for Joe’s House. During the Police Raid They found Equipment used for Accessing, Manipulating, and Transversing through the Complex World of The Telephone System. Joe was sentence to 30 Days in Jail and had to Promise to Quit Phone Phreaking Once and For All. In May 1988 Joe Legally changed His Name to JoyBubbles and Claimed to be Eternally Five Years Old. He explained that He had Reverted Back to Childhood to Over come Trauma from sexual abuse He suffered in His Younger Years. Nowadays JoyBubbles continues to live as a Small Child and even has a Show called “Stories and Stuff” which People can Listen to by Calling/Dialing 206-FEELINGS.

As Time went by and the Phone System started to Evolve They Inadvertently Ended up Accomplishing Their Goal of Killing Phone Phreaking for Good. Once the Phone Systems Upgraded and Converted to a Digital System the Phone System could No Longer be manipulated by Using Tones. Ironically and perhaps pPredictably many Phone Phreaks Transitioned from Phone Phreaking into Hacking.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie: The Meaning Behind Curious Sayings

The Meanings Behind Human Sayings/Slang are a Matter of Linguistic Logic of Sorts. There some Sayings Listed here that You more than likely are Familiar with along with Ones You’ve Never Heard Before, and Ones that just Make You Wonder “What The Fuck?!” Enjoy.

At the Eleventh Hour: Without a Moment to Spare; At The Latest Possible Time; Just Under the Wire

Strike While The Iron is Hot: To Act at the Most opportune Time; To Seize the Most Favorable Opportunity.

Down in The Dumps: Feeling Blue or Down; Dejected; Depressed.

A Bone To Pick: A Difficulty or Problem that needs Solving; a Complaint or Grievance; Dispute; Misunderstanding.

Skeleton At The Feast: An Element of Gloom or Depression; An Omen of Misfortune; A Reminder of Possible Danger While Having Fun.

Ones’ Cake is Dough: Things Don’t Go As One Planned; One is Disappointed.

To Chew The Fat: To Debate or Dispute, Idle Talk, Vain Argument, or Just Plain Gossip.

To Cash In One’s Hand: To Die

White Collar Worker: One Who Preforms NON Manual Labor; A Professional Person; An Office Worker Rather Than a Construction Worker.

Make No Bones About It: To Speak Frankly; To Talk Shooting From The Hip; Having No Scruples; Make No Mistake; Telling It As It Is; To Speak Directly and Honestly

Check By Jowl: Simple Means “Cheek By Cheek”

To Lead By The Nose: To Dominate; To Have Control Over; To Hold Under Submission.

Dark and Bloody Ground: A Title Sometimes Given To The State of Kentucky due to the Numerous Raids by Native American’s on White Settlers in the Days Before Colonization.

To Keep Ones Eyes Skinned/Peeled: To Be Extremely Observant or Alert; Keeping a Sharp Lookout.

To Go To The Dickens: Polite and Emphatic way of Saying “GO TO HELL”.

To Bite Off More Than One Can Chew: To Attempt more than oNe can Accomplish; To Try to do More Than One has Time or Ability For; A Very Human Failing being one that is often Praiseworthy, but can Be Exasperating.

Even Steven: Without an Advantage (Example- To Swap Knifes “Even Steven”)

Lame Duck: Popular Slang (to this day) for Anything be it a Person or Thing that isn’t Worth Anything; Washed Up; Played Out; Has Been.

A Stiff Upper Lip: To Have Courage or Stoicism.

To Go Hog Wild: To Become Extremely Enthusiastic; To Become Wildly Excited; To Spend One’s Money like a Drunken Sailor.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie: To Let a Matter or Person which is presently at Rest to Stay at Rest (or Asleep) rather than to Create a Disturbance.

To Tilt at Windmills: To Wage a Battle or Take Arms Up Against an Imaginary Enemy or Evil.

Playing With Loaded Dice: Having Little Chance; Gambling or Engaging in any Undertaking in which the Odds are Rigged Against One.

To Have Many Irons In The Fire: To Undertake Many Different Tasks or Activities at One Time. (What would be Referred to as Multitasking Today)

To Kick Against The Pricks: To Try In Vain; To be Reluctant; To Bang One’s Head against the Wall; To Suffer from One’s Own Misdeeds; To Cut off One’s Nose to Spite Their Face.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

The Serpentine Cemetery

Today fucking Sucks. Earlier this Year My 14 year Old Colombian Boa Constrictor Adabeese Died of Old Age leaving Me rather Devastated. The Silver Lining was I still had My Ball Python Named Monty (an Ode to The British Comedy Troupe Monty Python) to Focus My Time and Attention which Helped Me to deal with Adabeese’s Unfortunate but Unavoidable Demise.

Tragically enough I found Monty Dead in His Cage presumably also due to Old Age. And to Add Insult to Injury Monty looked Happy, Healthy, and Bright Eyed Yesterday, just to End Up Dead Today. That’s the One Problem with Owning Snakes (and Reptiles in General) is Being Utterly Undomesticated They have the Natural Instinct of the Wild which dictates One Hide all Illness. In the Wild a Sick Animal is an instant Bullseye on its back as far as Predators are concerned (Example Wolves in Alaska will Target the Feeble and Elderly or the Sick/Injured Members in a Herd of Elk)

This simply mean Bottom Line You Won’t Know There is Something Wrong Until it’s too Late if Disease is a Factor. In this case as I said earlier Monty’s demise was Age Related One would assume since Upon inspection Monty didn’t display any of the Usual Characteristics of Disease, but then again I have No Idea what was going on Inside of Monty. I can only do an exterior inspection and use only Visual Observations, But I know enough about Reptiles having Owned Quite a Few Through Out My Life time (A Couple of Iguana’s, Ball Python, Blue Tongued Skink, Anoles, Colombian Python, and Bearded Dragon. Plus working for Veterinarians who worked with treated Exotics was a BIG PLUS).

I Don’t expect Anyone but Other Snake/Reptile Owners to be able to Empathize with the Passing of a Pet Reptile such as My Snake(s). Reptile Owner’s are the Only Ones Who actually and Truly understand the Profound Bond that Forms between a Pet Reptile and Its Owner. I’m a Man of a Thousand words That has real trouble keeping His opinions to Himself and His Mouth Shut. And Still I Can’t Explain it, its hard to put Feelings into Words Sometimes (unless its one of the Major Ones like Love, Anger, Happy, Hateful)

Anyway I didn’t finish the Post I planned on Posting Today as I am at a Loss since Discovering Monty’s Passing Earlier Today, YET Life Goes on and So Do I. So Until Tomorrow I bid You A-due.

Thanks for Understanding,

By Les Sober

Millennials, a Bistro, and a Whole Lot of Bullshit.

This Weekend My Wife and I went to see Her Cousin Ave compete in that Weekend’s Auto Races since Ave had become an Adamant Racer several years ago, but this was the First time My Wife and I were able to Attend. After the Race We got the pleasure of meeting His Pit Crew so to Speak as They were Working Their Asses off at the Time, and We were Afforded an Up Close and Personal look at His Race Car. Ave’s Parents Kay and Jay along with Ave’s Wife Steph were there though They didn’t attend a great deal of Ave’s races. This was simply because Watching Ave Race was/is Nerve Wracking to Say the Least for His Mother and His Wife.

After Hanging out for awhile Behind The Scenes We left the Race Track and headed for Our Dinning Destination for the Evening just a short 15 minutes Away called Pompous Bistro and Beer Garden. Since Ave was the one who made the Reservation (and I trust Ave), AND with Beer Garden in the Name I was Highly Optimistic.

You see I rather Eat in than Eat Out honestly since Restaurants can be a Huge fucking Hassle especially if You’re Not a Trend Chasing Hipster Lemming or a fucking Foodie. In Addition I am NOT a Fine Dining Person fucking Period. I am Reviled by the so called Luxurious Fine Dinning Experience I find it Disgusting all Around and on All Levels. The Whole Arrogant Elitist Pomp and Circumstance feeling, nay believing They are Superior to Others based on Their fucking Bank Accounts. They can Administer Fas Gras Enema’s to Each other for all I fucking Care, but as For Now on the Subject of Alleged Fine Dining I Digress.

We pulled up outside and parked on the Street My Wife’s Family had already arrived, and We walked Through a Gate into a Maze like Garden that really was kind of cool. As We walked around a winding trail through the Garden making Our way to the Hostess there were Little outlets a few with Fire Pits, a Couple Lounge Areas, and several Tables Intertwined throughout. There was so much Vegetation along with an Abundant amount of Flora and Fauna that the Garden had an underlying Jungle feel to it.

At last We reached The Hostess station which was located Outside of the Main Building as it were. I say Building because it was a Mediterranean Style Outside Dinning area where there No Actual Walls there’s just Shades hanging in-between Pillars to Keep the Sun out of Dinners Eyes. I’ve seen this Concept in the Islands of The Great Southern Swamp, and what I have always wondered, and still do is How the hell Do You Keep People from Robbing/Vandalizing the Your Establishment if THERE NO FUCKING WALLS?!

Anyway We meet up with My Wife’s Family Who were Seated already when a Overtly Dramatic Millennial Euro Trash Waitress sauntered lazily up to Our Table. She was Wearing a Sun Dress with a Plunging Neck Line so there was plenty of Opportunities to Show Off Her Collection of Pretentious Tattoos. She had every fucking Cliche in the Book of Hipster Tattoos there was the Traditional Ying Yang, OM Sign, Buddha Statue, Lotus Flower, The Joshua Tree, A Japanese Coy Fish, a Fairy, The Symbol for the Female Sex, an Elaborately Done Peace Sign, and at Least 3 Asian Characters that Adorned Her Arms, Shoulders, and Neck.

She Talked as if She was Bored as Fuck and could care facing Less about Us or any Other Customers. As She stood at the head of Or Table with Her head Slightly Tilted to one side, and a Vacant Stare into the Horizon informed Us of the Following. Apparently the Bistro had recently Implemented a New Policy Our Food Would NOT be coming out all Together BUT rather randomly when ever it is or isn’t ready. This concept of Theirs goes against fucking Common Sense as it Utterly fucking Transforms the Dinning Experience into One Drawn Out 3 Ring Bullshit Culinary Circus.

Going Out to Eat is at the Heart about Spending time and converting with Friends and Family over Food. That is why Real Restaurants rely on Timing as one of the Key Principles/Factors of Service in The Food MUST GO OUT TOGETHER NEVER SEPARATELY. This Provides for the Meal and Social Gatherings Cohesiveness and Efficiency on All Fronts. Bottom Line: No One Likes or Wants to be The Person at the Table that Doesn’t have Their Food Point Blank.

We gave The Euro Trash Hipster Our drink Order and though the Sign claimed this was a Beer Garden it was unlike any fucking Beer Garden I’ve been to Before. Usually a Beer Garden is a Large Banquet Hall lined with Rows of Tables and Benches, and They have a Very Distinct Bavarian (German) Theme to It. There is also Large crowds of Happy Beer Loving Binge Drinkers Hooting and Howling with Laughter in Total Abandon. I say this because when I looked on the Menu There was No Beer List. There was a Wine List and a Cocktail Menu, but again Not a single piece of Literature on the Table pertained to Beer. As I was annoyingly glaring around I noticed a Floor to Ceiling Black Board with the Title “NO CRAP ON TAP” at the Top. Under the Header was a short list of 8 to 10 Craft Beers I was Unfamiliar with, and that was it that was Their Beer Garden Concept.

We got Our drinks and about 25 minutes or so a Stereotypical Portland/Seattle/Colorado Millennial Girl sporting a Bright Plad Flannel Shirt, Jeans, and Sneakers arrived at Our table. She gave Us the Specials which I didn’t pay attention to. She then goes into a LONGER DISCLAIMER that Due to the New Policy Our Food would NOT be coming out Together but rather whenever the fuck its ready. I ordered a Bowl of Lobster Mac and Cheese, My Wife Had one of those European Meat and Cheese Samplers, Ave and Steph ordered Tacos, and Kay Ordered the Lobster Mac and Cheese with an additional House Salad, and Jay ordered two Hot dishes I forget what they were.

40 minutes Later the First couple Dishes come out and, Ironically All the Dishes were Hot Dishes while the Salad and Cold Meat and Cheese Plate did Not. Again this makes No fucking sense since Obviously a fucking House Salad and Cold Meat and Cheese Plate should have been first since They were the Easiest to Fix. About half an Hour passes as the next few Items came in a On going Bizarre Fashion. My Wife’s Aunt Kay was Served Her Mac and Cheese 20 Minutes BEFORE Her House Salad was served. Also why the fuck You wouldn’t prepare the Two Orders of Mac and Cheese since I had order it as well at the same Time and serve them accordingly, But I was left in the Lurch as it were.

Finally everyone But My Wife and I had not only been Served They had completely finished. And since We had to kill so much fucking time waiting on Our Food that was slowly trickling out of the Kitchen We had exhausted virtually every topic of Conversation. Everyone was Tired from the Days Affairs and having Eaten where Now Succumbing to the Tiredness that comes with Digestion. Then My Wife’s food came to the Table directly followed by Mine. Now My Wife’s Family was being as cool as shit about it it was still apparent They were ready to Head on Home. It didn’t matter unfortunately even though They were being cool You can’t get Your food last and NOT feel fucking rushed, and that sucks since You go out to Enjoy your food and not feel like You have to Eat it fast as fuck since it came out so goddamn late.

The Worst Part was the Perky Flannel Millennial Girl kept popping by Our table periodically, and was trying to be all uplifting and positive TOTALLY OBLIVIOUS to the fact that the Entire Table was slowing becoming fed up with Their Food Service. Honestly if We weren’t having Dinner with My Wife’s Family I would have walked the fuck out as soon as the Euro Trash Millennial made the Initial New Service Policy Statement. And of course I’m trying like a Motherfucker to bite My Tongue and play it cool since I’m with My In laws and Not absolutely Loose My Shit since You couldn’t designed a Restaurant I could have Hated any More Than I fucking Hated Pompous Bistro I fucking assure You. I just kept envisioning snapping and Choke Slamming The Millennial Food Server wearing 1950’s Librarian Black Rim Glasses, and a Wool Knit Hat (so He looked like the Lost Member of Cold Play or some shit) through a fucking Table.

At last the Painfully Drawn Out Affair was done accept Now (and I don’t have a fucking clue WHY) Some People at Our Table wanted Dessert. Mind You had some unfinished Business that I had to attend to later that Evening, and it was a 90 minute Drive back to where I needed to be to do so. My Wife saw Me cringe with Contempt and the mention of Dessert reassured Me it was just Ice Cream with a Pastry or something similar So it should be that Bad. I responded by saying that We were dealing with complete culinary idiocy being felt out by a Cliche Cast of Mind Numbing Millennial Trendy Hipster Sons of Bitches.

Seriously it Took an HOUR before a House Salad that had been ordered actually made it to the Table not to Mention Her Cold Meat and Cheese Deal that essentially came out Dead Last. My Point being I had No Faith in these fucking Fools, and Any Possible Good Will had Faded Away Long, Long Ago. I wanted just One thing and one thing Only. I wanted to Leave Immediately at that Point in the Evening. Just under Half an Hour later The 3 Ice Cream Desserts Arrived, We ate Then quickly, Paid, and Left Never to Return.

I still Can’t wrap My head around such a Obviously Outrageously Idiotic Service, and No One I have asked Plenty of Whom Have Experience be it Past or Present in the Restaurant Service Industry. All I have come up with is Pompous Bistro was Built as a Monument to The Mundane Millennial Lifestyle where No One makes Plans, Shit Just Happens, and Where People can Lounge Around all Day with No Concerns or Responsibilities. Who cares when Their food comes When They have No Where To Be and Nothing To Do other than Obsess about Social Media, Play Moronic Games on Their Smart Phones, Stream Netflix for 12 Hours StraightBinge Watching Bullshit, Idly fucking around with Apps, and Sitting Around Working on Their Never Going to Happen Screen Play.

Thanks for Reading,

by Les Sober

Incoming Message…..

And Now We Return You To Our Regularly Scheduled Blog Currently in Progress.

A Tale of Two Dogs

My Wife and I were Driving Down a Desolate Road that runs through the Wooded Countryside about an Hour away. We saw the Car which was a ways down the Road in front of Us Pump its Brake Lights before pulling over and Parking on the side of the Road. Once the Car was parked what appeared to be a Soccer Mom Hopped out looking a bit Rattled. My Wife wondered Aloud what was going on with the Whole Soccer Mom thing was about. It was then I informed My Wife that I saw something Running around in the Road. It appeared to an Animal (that I safely assumed was a Dog considering our Location and Surrounding) about 40 Feet In Front of the Soccer Mom who was Now Standing on the Side of the Road watching Whatever was in the Road intently.

We pulled over and Parked to see what was Exactly going on, and to see if We might be of Service in some way which was the Case. We walked up to the Soccer Mom who was still standing motionless in the same spot on the Side of the Road. As We were walking up to the Woman We noticed that it was in fact a Dog that looked Friendly enough, but at the same Time a Bit Leary of Strangers. The Soccer Mom told US that the Reason She had stoped was She had seen the Dog wondering in the Road, and when She got nearer to the Dog it started Nervously Zig Zagging back and forth across the Road.

Now while this was a what most would call a “Back Road” there was virtually No traffic to Speak of. That didn’t mean the Dog was Safe from being Struck and more than likely Killed by a Car You see on These lone Roads People use Speed Limits as fucking Suggestions. Suggestions They promptly Ignore and Speed like Sons of Bitches sometimes Crashing Their Vehicles and Accidentally Killing Themselves. The point being if Someone came Speeding down the Road and the Dog was in the Road there Sadly wouldn’t be jack shit Anyone could have done about it.

My Wife and I both Worked in the Veterinary Field for over 10 Years, are Pet People, and Avid Animal Lovers (Yes I’m one those Cliche Anti Social Stereotypes that Prefers the Company of Animals over that of His fellow Man) which definitely worked in Our Favor here. The Dog looked to be a Tan Hound or Hound Mix of Some Sort which made Perfect Sense for the Area where almost Everyone Hunts, and that makes Hunting Dogs a Extremely Valuable Commodity in the Community.

We knelt down and The Dog came to Us with No Objection or Fear and then We could get a better look at it. It was a Light Tan Female Hound Mix that was Lean as could be with a Solid Gray Muzzle that showed off Her advanced Age. Luckily for Us in this Case the Dog had a Not Only a Collar, but It had a Tag with Pertinent Information like Name and Owner’s Phone Number. Now I say Luckily because out in the Woods People have a Very Old School Attitude when it comes to Pet Dogs/ Farm Dogs/Country Dogs, but I’ll circle around back to that a Little later on.

The Next Issue We had to Combat was the that We were on such a Lonely Stretch of Highway Not one of the Three of Us could get a fucking Signal worth a Damn. Not only that but None of Us was from the Area as We were just like everyone else Driving Through on Their way Somewhere else. At last the Soccer Mom prevailed and got a Sketchy Signal and Called the Number on the Dog’s Collar while trying hard as hell not to more a single inch as to Not lose the Shaky Cell Signal. After a couple of Rings a Gruff and Unfriendly Man answered who took damn near 5 fucking Minutes to be able to Figure Out why the Soccer Mom was bothering Him with the Phone Call. The Man sounded like one of those Miserable Bastards that hates His Life and Has given Up all Hope so They spend the Remainder of His Days being a Deliberate Dick about it.

The Douchebag on the Phone tells Us (since the Phone was on Speaker) He lives 2 Hours away somewhere, It’s actually His Dad’s Dog, and since His Dad lived “In the Area” He suggested We turn the Dog loose, and She’d use Her instincts to get back Home. The Soccer Mom though to Her credit DID NOT and WAS NOT going to Leave the Dog alone on the Side of the Road No Matter What since She thought the Dog was at Risk of Being Hit By a Car.

I couldn’t figure out if the Douchebag Son was being Difficult just for the sake of it (Though in all due fairness Out in those parts of the Woods People aren’t accustomed to Visitors, and are generally weary of Strangers/Outsiders) or if He simply couldn’t care less or What His deal was, BUT He simply ignored the Soccer Mom’s request for His Father’s Phone Number or Since He lived “In the Area” His address and She’d even drive the Dog back Home.

It was like I said all in vain as The Son just kept bitching about not Bothering to do shit, and just turning the Dog loose back on the Road where it was Found. Finally the Son begrudgingly told the Soccer Mom he’d Text Her His Father’s address, But His Father was currently at Work so Obviously He wouldn’t be Home. We waited trying to figure out if the Text was taking a while since reception was almost non existent out where We were OR if the Son being the Dickbag that He was had No Intention of sending said Text, and said so just to get the fuck off the Phone.

As We waited killing the Time by talking shit about what an asshole the Son was We suddenly noticed Not One but Two Other Additional Dogs wonder Out of the Woods and directly into the Road. They were a Pair of Labs One Yellow that seemed Skittish even from a far, and a Big Old Husky Chocolate Lab who turned out to be a Male crossed the Road to the side We were on, and lumbered on Down to see Us. As for His less than trusting Partner He/She opted to return into the Woods rather than come and see what We were about. And as Luck would have it the Chocolate Lab had a Collar and Tag too which in these parts was literally like Lighting Striking Twice I assure You. So again We proceeded to locate a Shady signal and call the Number on the Dog’s Collar and got Very Different Results to say the Least.

The Young Man on the Phone was Surprised His Dog had gotten out of the Yard, and even made the comment The Dog had never done so before. He said thank You for holding onto His Dog and Letting Him Know He was loose, and said He lived Near by and Was on His Way to Retrieve His Dog. About Ten Minutes Later or So a Large Jacked Up Pick Up Truck with Mud Caked Tires, and Hunting Dog Kennels/Cages in the occupying the Bed of the Truck came driving down the Road. The Chocolate Lab became more and more excited as the Truck Approached as He was well aware it was His Master Coming. The Truck pulled up and Stopped right next to Us before a Young Man looking to be in His Mid too Late Twenties climbed Out of the Cab dressed in Camouflage Pants, Neon Orange T-Shirt, John Dear Baseball Cap, and Beat Up Shit Kicker Boots.

He thanked Us again before letting US know That the Lab Named Pooh (I assume after Winnie-The-Pooh, but it could have been a Fecal Reference) was the Ripe Old Age of 10 though He didn’t seem to Know it, and had due to His age and Age oriented Hip Issues had recently been Retired from Hunting. The Young Man said it sucks because He honestly misses having Pooh with Him after a Decade Hunting together, but HE didn’t want to be the asshole who Runs His Dog all Day Hunting only to have the Dog’s Hips go to shit at the end of the Day. Unfortunately for Pooh He didn’t feel the same way about His Age because all Pooh Knew was the Thrill of the Hunt proving You can take the Dog out of the Hunt, But You can’t take the Hunt out of the Dog. The Young Man Attempted to get Pooh to load up into one of the Kennels/Cages in the Back of the Truck, which He did half assed being Pooh preferred to Ride in the Cab along with His Master. The Young Man joked that Pooh may not enjoy the Perks of Retirement as of Yet He has asserted that if He was in fact Retired then Why should He ride in the Back where the Current Hunting Dogs Rode. And with That the Young Man and Pooh Drove off towards Home.

While We were happy to get Pooh back where He belonged My Wife, Soccer Mom, Tan Dog, and Myself were still stuck in Our Original Dilemma. It Turned out that the Douchebag Son had texted His Father’s Address , and the Text had come in sometime while We were talking with Pooh’s Dad.As I said earlier None of Us knew where the hell We were, and We couldn’t GPS the Address since the Cell Reception was Abysmal. My Wife and I decided (due to the fact We had more Animal Experience along with a better Understanding of such things as Lost Pets) We would take the Dog Home thus relieving the Distressed Soccer Mom to Go on with Her Day. The Soccer Mom was quite thankful to be relieved of Duty at it were. The Soccer Mom thanked Us for stopping and Helping, and to have a Great Day before She drove off to wherever it was She was initially Headed.

Then We loaded Up the Dog who seemed comfortable with Cars into the Backseat, and proceeded to Drive for 6-7 minutes until We had decent Cell reception. Once We had reception We entered the Address into Google Maps and off We Went. It turned out The Tan Dog Lived a ways down a Dirt Road that if You didn’t know was there You’d miss it. After several minutes of getting the World’s Shittiest Message thanks to the uneven terrain arrived at the Dog’s House. The House was a Double Wide Mobile Home that was Set around 3 Blocks or so Back from the Dirt Road, and Had a Tall and Foreboding Fence Topped with Barbwire. There were signs plastered all over the Place From No Trespassing to Warning Cameras in Use making the Place seem even More Unwelcoming. It felt to Me like I was Standing On the Property line of some Mentally Ill, Severely Paranoid, Doomsday Preppier Conspiracy Theorist in a Tin Foil Hat holding a Shotgun.

We couldn’t hoist the Dog over the Fence so We located a Large Iron Cattle Gate that was being used to Block Access to the Driveway that had a Rusty Old Tow Chain wrapped around it to keep it closed. My Wife messed with the Chain and Realized there was No Pad Lock so all She had to do was uncoil the Chain and let the Dog back into the Yard. So We did just That accept as soon as We got the Dog back in the Yard it immediately Slipped Under the Cattle Gate since it was a Dirt Driveway the Dog had dug under it to get Free. This was a huge kick in the metaphorical Balls. We had at last gotten the Dog out of Harms way and Home only to be fucked over by a Shitty Gate Issue.

It was then I saw the Neighbor down the way arriving Home so I figured He might be useful in some manner. My Wife and I made the short trek down the Road to the Neighbors House, and walked up just as a Old Man was headed towards the Front Door. We called out and got His attention, and He came down the Drive to meet Us. He was a Very British Man who was a Nice as could possibly Be who informed Us He had seen the Dog running the Neighborhood several times before, but He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of The Dog in 6 weeks. Now I said I’d come back around to this and here We are as The British Gentlemen said there wasn’t a lot anyone could do in General since the “People around here have a very Country Attitude about Dogs”. This is why I said previously in this post that a Dog with a Collar was Uncommon and Tags are unheard of. In these Parts People put their Dogs out in the Morning, let them Run Amok, and Then the Dog(s) return Home for Dinner at Night. We chatted with the British Gentlemen a while longer and then started to make Our way back to Our car that was parked outside the Main Gate of The Dog’s House.

My Wife figured at least the Dog was back on familiar turf, and We had done al that We could have to Help, and I meanwhile was afraid as Soon as We started to Drive Off the Dog would Run After Us thus leaving the Issue Ultimately Unresolved. Thats when a Large White Pick Up Truck drove past us, Stopped, and Drove back to where We were in reverse. There was a pleasant Middle Aged Couple in the Truck that were the Neighbors that lived on the Opposite side of the Dog Owner’s Property, and were well acquainted with the Dog. We told them the Story and as We did the Dog hopped up into the Back of the Couple’s Pick Up. The Couple said they has seen Us and wanted to see if We needed Help because Our Car took a Shit on Us, and Not to Worry about the Dog. I felt a bit better that at least now there was someone else who could and was willing to keep an Eye on the Dog until Her idiotic owner returned Home from Work. As The Couple Drove Off the Dog gave Chase and I assume followed Them back to Their House which also made Me feel Better about things.

Now with BOTH Dogs back where They Belonged more or Less My Wife and I got into Our Car and went on Our Way.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Mental Disorders: A Schizophrenia Simulation

The Clinical Definition of Schizophrenia is as Follows:

Schizophrenia is a SERIOUS Mental Disorder in which People interpret Reality Abnormally. Schizophrenia may Result in some Combination of Hallucinations (Auditory as well as Visual), Delusions, and Extremely Disordered Thinking and Behavior that Impairs Daily functioning, and can be Disabling. People with Schizophrenia Require Life Long Treatment.

Thank You for Experiencing,

Presented By Les Sober

Is There a Veterinarian in The House?!

I had been working in a Dog Kennel/ Boarding Facility when I decided to become a Veterinarian Technician or Vet Tech. It made sense since I liked working with Animals over People, and let’s face it Most People Suck a Bag of Dicks on the Daily. The problem was while I enjoyed working at the Dog Kennel but it wasn’t what one would call Intellectually Challenging in the Least, and the Day to Day routine had become mundanely Boring.

After looking for a while I landed a Job at a Near Veterinarian Clinic run by a Veterinarian named Dr. Yavid Yorn. I’m going to take a minute to clear up a quick question some Reader’s may be Wondering about so bare with Me. While there are Plenty of Schools that offer a Vet Tech Programs (which is fine by all means) in Reality Veterinarian’s prefer to Hire Someone with Experience, But being an Off the Street Newbie isn’t a deal breaker as Long as You are Reliable, Trainable, and a Hard Working Animal Lover with Initiative thats works just Fine.

There is an extremely simplistic reason for this. While having experience is obviously the Number One thing You can bring to the Table with a shit ton of Jobs not just Veterinary Medicine. The reason Vet’s are a Bit Leery of the School Educated Vet Tech because there is a HUGE fucking Difference between Restraining a Large Pissed off Dog in Real Life let’s say versus learning about Animal Restraint Techniques Strictly from a Book. Unfortunately School Educated Vet Tech’s tend to think They’re ready, but Veterinarian Medicine is all about Trial By Fire and They tend to Freeze Up.

Anyway back to Our story Already in Progress.

It was early in the Afternoon when a Woman called the to make a Rather Unusual Appointment. She told Me there had been an Illegal Chop Shop in Her Neighborhood that had a Big Ass Rottweiler Guarding the Property. Well the Chop Shop closed and when the assholes left they turned the fucking Dog loose onto the Streets. The Woman had seen the Dog roaming aimlessly around and had decided out of the Ignorance of Her heart to Feed it. Now that it been awhile the Woman wanted to bring in the Dog for an Exam to make sure everything is Kosher.

We made Her an Appointment as well as Informed Her this was NOT a Good/Smart idea as She knew absolutely NOTHING about the Dog like its Over All Temperament, Behaviors or Possible Triggers that could cause Sudden Aggression. We informed Her that just because She had been feeding the Dog Didn’t make this Situation a goddamn Disney motherfucking Movie not by a Long fucking Shot. We advised Her the Best thing to do was to Contact Animal Care and Control (ACC) which She declined to do. She didn’t have the Highest Opinion of ACC so She refused to even consider it as a viable and logical Answer, and Dr. Yorn Okayed the Appointment soWe made One for Her.

Looking back on it Now I can’t figure Out Why after telling Her all that WHY THE FUCK DR. YORN ALLOWED HER MAKE AN APPOINTMENT?! I mean can You say Red fucking Flag or WHAT?! After learning the so called History and relationship of the Woman and the Dog We didn’t just Hang the fuck Up DEFYS LOGIC as well as COMMON SENSE. It Literally was THE WORST FUCKING IDEA/OPTION We could have fucking Made Considering what We knew, BUT We Did because Dr. Yorn said to do so.

Time Passed uneventfully that was until The Woman with the Stray Chop Shop Rottweiler Showed Up. The Dog was a Prize Specimen looking to be 100 pounds or So of Pure fucking Muscle, and a Head as Big as a fucking Frozen Turkey. The Woman it turns out is 5 foot fucking Nothing and weighed no more than 90 fucking Pounds TOPS. The Dog comes barreling into the Waiting Room like a Bull in a China Shop dragging the Tiny Woman behind Him as She fought to hold on the the Leash. MORE AND MORE RED FLAGS. Dr. Yorn could have told Her Oh Hell No fuck that, but AGAIN HE DIDN’T.

Well needless to say the Clients in the Waiting Room were Less than Thrilled about this Development, and looked on the Verge of Panicking. Dr. Yorn directed US to escort the Woman and Dog directly into the Nearest Empty Exam Room which We Did. The fucked up thing is the Woman was Totally fucking Oblivious to what the fuck is really going on, and is actually Laughing like a Fucking Fool the entire fucking Time. I Know it’s Redundant, BUT STILL MORE RED FLAGS.

Dr. Yorn’s next decision was to Tell Me to go into the Exam Room with the Woman and have her Muzzle the Dog just so We could WEIGHT THE FUCKING THING (Red Fucking Flag!). I knew why He had chosen Me and I’m not being Sexist but the Other 3 Employees where 2 Petite Young Girls, and the Third was a Little Old Lady in her Mid 60’s. SO if You stop and think about it You could say based on the Other 3 Employees I was hired because I was obviously much Bigger, and desernably Stronger so isn’t that Sexist?!

Anyway I went in and handed the Muzzle to the Woman who is still giggling like a Drunk School Girl unaware that the Dog She is with is fully capable of KILLING HER, and Tossing HER MANGLED CORPSE around like a fucking Rag Doll. I then instruct Her on how to put the Muzzle on Correctly, BUT the Dog isn’t fucking having it. The Dog Keeps ducking, bobbing, and weaving to avoid the Muzzle put well on His Muzzle, and when the Woman did get the Muzzle in Place the Dog would rub against He leg and immediately dislodge it. Essentially We were getting absolutely fucking NO WHERE and the Dog was becoming More and More Agitated which was the Exact OPPOSITE of what We wanted to do all things Considered.

I was becoming EXTREMELY Uncomfortable as I saw this scenario going South REAL fucking Fast, and This was NOT the Dog to be fucking around with that was for Sure. I leaned forward slightly and pointed at the Loose Strap since the Woman was just Chuckling Her fucking head off, and really making things seriously Worse. Thats when the Dog Lunged at Me attempting to Lock onto My Left Forearm, BUT since I saw it coming so to Speak I had already begun to pull My Hand Back which prevented the Dog from being able to Bite it in which case I’d be Totally and Properly fucked. Instead of grabbing hold of My Forearm The Dog Bit… .how should I put this a “Chunk” of Flesh along with a little Muscle.

I remember clear as fucking Day being fucking Eye to Eye with the goddamn Dog and realized more likely than not the Dog was going to Release Me only so it could Attack again trying to Establish a Deadlier Hold on Me. Instinctively I Screamed “MOTHERFUCKER!” a loud a fuck right into the Dog’s fucking Face, and it worked as it effectively Startled the shit Out of the Dog confusing it enough to Let Go of My Arm while allowing Me to Escape out the Door like a Bolt of fucking Lightning. The Clients in the Waiting Room looked So Surprised it Looked as if They all had infant Shit Themselves Silly with Shock.

I made My way into the Medical Prep/ Pharmacy where My Co Workers cleaned the Wound, Disinfected it, and Bandaged it for Me. Now since the Dog was a Stray with No Known Vaccination Record or Rabies Tag meant I was Off to the Emergency Room for Rabies Treatment. Luckily for Me there had been Quite a few Advancements in Medicine including in the Treatment for the Prevention of Rabies in People Bitten by Wild Animal or Dogs and Cats without known Current (aka Valid) Rabies Vaccination. They used to Stab the Patient REPEATEDLY in the Abdomen with a SLEW OF INJECTIONS and was know it be EXTREMELY PLEASANT AKA PAINFUL.

Like I said though Luckily for Me I ended up getting an Entire Bag of IV Antibiotics, 4 Shots in My left Arm, 3 Shots in My Right Arm, One in My Left Ass Cheek, and One Shot at the Bite Sight. That means they give You SEVERAL INJECTIONS directly around the Wound which seems to be the Worst of Both Worlds. After the Shots and Intravenous Antibiotic regiment They released Me after Letting Me know I’d have to come Back periodically for subsequent follow up Injections to Finish the Entire Rabies Protocol. That was unless the Dog was Cleared as a Rabies Threat before the Treatment Shots were Done.

Now allow Me a moment to fill in any of Our Reader’s in on a Little fact. Until VERY recently there was only one Protocol for a Situation like this which is I go for Medical Treatment, and the Dog would be Surrendered (aka Turned Over) to Animal Care and Control. The Dog would remain Quarantined at Animal Care and Control until it was Promptly Euthanized after which its Head would be Severed, and its Brain Dissected for signs of Rabies. Though Morbid as a Motherfucker it was the Deemed the only effective way to handle the Situation.

A Few Years ago the Thinking on how to Handle said situation changed Dramatically. Those in the Know as it were had come to the Conclusion that since Rabies takes 10 Days before becoming Symptomatic so if a Dog per say with No Documented Rabies Vaccination Bit Someone it could be Kept in Quarantine for 10 Days. After 10 Days the Animal would start to become Systematic which is Impossible to Miss since it Involves such things as Staggering, Excessive Drooling, Irrational and Unusually Aggressive Behavior, and a Irrational Fear of Water as Rabies Rots and Erodes the Patients Brain and Nervous System. This way the Animal Didn’t have to be Killed Unnecessarily which Everyone Agreed was a Much Better than the Previous Method.

As Luck would have it the Dog was in the End Cleared and I didn’t have to finish out the Entire Regiment of Rabies Shots. I did though Have to go and get 2 Subsequent injections while the Dog was in Quarantine which sucked balls. I don’t mind getting Shots/Injections at this point in My Life, BUT I HATE WAITING LIKE MOTHERFUCKER. You see when You show up at the ER for a simple Shot You are obviously the LOWEST PRIORITY, and will Remain so Indefinitely. This means a SHIT TON of Waiting I’m talking fucking HOURS, But Alls Well That Ends Well.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober (2:21 am)