(no subject)

I am so freaking sick of advertisements. When I listen to the radio it seems like I'm listening to ads half the time. When I watch TV I seem to be watching commercials half the time. I switch to other channels to escape them, and the other channel has commercials on at the same time. Coincidence? It is to laugh. As I was typing this, I was put on hold at my doctor's office and do I even hear muzak? No, I hear fucking commercials. Billboards, junk mail, email, everywhere, I am sick to death of them.

And if that didn't suck, my doctor is not willing to check a box on a form so that I can continue this allergy study. They want some indication that I have a history of allergies, and even though at practically every visit he looked in my nose and remarked that I was having allergies, he apparently never made note of it in the chart and thus is unwilling to verify that I had them. So I will get booted out, and loose $400 that we really need because of that bastard. I have been arguing on the phone with the medical records guy or the assistant (never him, of course) for too fucking long. I am getting ready to switch doctors. I'm tired of this shit.

(no subject)

Well, the doctor's assistant called back and said that the doctor would consider signing off on the paper if I came in and discussed my allergies with him. Fine. I don't know what we're going to discuss; my thinking is he just wants to get his foot in and get a visit (read: some money) out of the deal. Whatever. He tried to pull the same crap with hub when hub asked for a referral to a chiropractor. Well, hub's got an appointment with a much friendlier-towards-alternative-treatment doctor instead, and I may still switch. But I'll pay my $15 co-pay this time, he'd just better make with the John Hancock.

(no subject)

Sacred Indulgence:
Pleasuring Self & Other

By Jesse Wolf Hardin

( long, interesting article )

(no subject)

I will spare you the graphics. I am Dr.Pepper, a Laid-Back Virgin, and my ideal Disney man is Peter Pan. Go me.