Thursday, July 20, 2017

Still At Willows Walmart #02053

DO NOT BUY THIS MEAT IF YOU SEE IT:



The price might be right, but it could be contaminated/adulterated....

Learning...

I've memorized almost half, and am continuing to learn... Next month: Redcross.org to earn my adult and pediatric first aid and CPR certification...


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Mm-Hm

Greco-Roman curse effigy, pierced by thirteen needles
Egypt, second century BCE

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Wouldn't It Be Great If One Could Just Shut Me Down With Accusations of Meth-induced Paranoia?

Weird stuff still going on: AT&T cell calling 911 answered by who? Federal law enforcement?

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Mom's been fucking with the freezers, ruined all of her ice cream last week; cubed chuck gone and replaced by OLD top sirloin from a store we've never been to (but I turned it into a nice meal anyway...); somebody still eating up my cell minutes; I think my brother and others are spying on the car via Onstar; somebody still stealing mail; Walmart has yet to compensate me adequately for bad meat...

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I don't know who's giving lil ol' me grief: NSA? CIA? FBI?

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Weirdness still going on at SF Zuckerberg General's Ward 86 (HIV) clinic; I go back on the 23rd for psychiatry. Must rejigger my medication regimen...

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Friday, July 14, 2017

Millennium Tower

I have a campaign to sincerely, earnestly, non-sarcastically (with a minimum of malice) and a maximum of misunderstandable Swiftian sneering to propose: I know I've touched rather unhelpfully on the leaning tower of "Sheesh, San Francisco, You Wouldn't, Would You?" That is to say, be so telling in the face of human problems like the way that seems...

Yes, my vote was not to demolish it, and leave it as a, well, there you go -- egg on all our faces as well as posterity's task. Today, I have one dollar to mail to a fund towards any collective effort among the owners of the discrete units in their efforts to right the building and maintain its habitability according to local building codes (almost anywhere in America, or even -- were Caracas subject to the laws governing legal habitability in 2017, where anyone can legally live in, say, El Torre de David, but I digress shabbily...)

I'm not sure, but the next step would be to evilly quip that I shall now send my dollar to this or that "Ha ha!" place as if a person or a person's home could be such a kind of "joke." Instead, I have this dollar for the people who have bought homes in the Millennium Tower, and that dollar will be sent forthwith to those who have overcome the other obstacles to helping those people out.

Tomorrow, Saturday, I'm sending $1 to 301 Mission St, San Francisco, CA 94105 towards any fundraising efforts to make these peoples' homes habitable. Yes, I'm shitty that way, but I'll never be on the proper side of THAT bit of it.

UPDATE:  Sent $2 to Owners/Residential at that address... Couldn't hurt, might help...

UPDATE II

Saturday, July 8, 2017

Just Raw From Facebook

In 2014 (summer?) I sold a diamond to Medford's [ed. note: THAT RAW: Maxferd's, I meant] in SF and only now has it hit me: the pendant (mid-century to 70s on the setting, which is 18K, as is the chain...) -- it just hit me: that is a very VERY sentimental piece. And its provenance is unknowable to anyone but whoever is THE MAN (OR WOMAN) at Medford's... And this a star-crossed world, deserving of ill-starred treatment.... There is a heart out there that still beats... A Hollywood ending for this evil piece of jewelry? Sad fucking probabilities, the more I post mid-digestion...

The man who had it commissioned -- I would love to make his acquaintance myself, were I not mere trash to the woman he wooed with it... I hope he's still alive, because -- well, fuck that bitch he went to that length to have it made for, her ass is not my bother -- off the cuff, I hope he's still alive, because I want him to know that the world wide web has William Way screaming at the top of his lungs: "BROS BEFORE HOS, MY BEAUTIFUL FRIEND -- I LOVE YOU!"

Thursday, June 29, 2017

Three Links I Like Today...

http://www.new-otec.com/

https://howdoyousaythatword.com/

https://twitter.com/Refugees

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Happy emoji day!
エモジデイをおめでとうございます!
⌒(o^▽^o)ノ

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Experiencing life difficulties due to Mom's sciatica blow-out... Am taking her to Colusa for a follow-up to the recent Glenn Medical ER visit... Wish me luck!

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Coming to a Hot Topic t-shirt nowhere near my intolerant black ass...

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My plausibly deniable, imaginary boyfriend's name is Mike. He's from Napa and is a Lance Corporal in the United States Marine Corps (reserve). His code name with the CIA is Sweet Pea. WHISKEY BRAVO GORGONZOLA!!! HUH GUYS?


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Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Fine, If Anybody's Really That Entitled To My Honest Expressions of Paranoiac Negativity....


I want to be friends and meet, especially with odd darlings and cool cats I've as yet barely encountered (but such presences they are in their essentials!), and I don't deny myself the just desserts due me -- not that by the very nature of what's going on I could screw my own pooch, at least in the renumeration department (there would have to be some -- gasp! -- inimical, highly effective, indominable conspiracy afoot... I just have a difficult time thinking this is merely the dark before the dawn, the cloud whose silver lining is not yet apparent...

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UPCOMING: The big ol' shindig for the Willie B. apartments in the Western Addition. Hopefully, they're less into this and that -ism and by which they hardcore discriminated against prospective tenants (wanting a vague "this-or-that" specific demographic they could serve, and have their own way, even as they received public funding, including from HUD.) They certainly never should have #displaced yours truly in violation of every common understood protection for SF renters, not without ample assurance from whatever boneheaded quarter they needed to that I would adequately and conveniently be dead soon after TNDC unethically and senselessly (and illegally?) evicted me... (It never did make sense as to why they rented 212 at the Alexander to me to begin with, and let me stay for 4 1/2 years.)

(BTW, I think there's some affidavit I have to sign in the City and County, perhaps at the Superior Court on Grove -- with or without an attorney? I'm not sure... Anyway, I wonder if this has something to do with my former landlord -- I ain't fixin' to be Elle Woods up in here. I know a lot of people have been mum on some huge issue surrounding me; Lord knows, I'm supposed to be taking some sort of hint on that. All so vague and weird... Oh, well, I'll pop in at the court as soon as I can make it to the City -- it is sort of a hardship to travel... Maybe I'll get there by July 24th?)

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"Wait, is there some 'principle of the thing' about me and my so-far lifelong frequent poverty and privation, and that those involved are investing themselves in an hideously irritating, so-maddening-as-to-induce-homicidal-rage 'point' in arranging my situation (one that includes a timing component)? Is that why I'm being piously fucked over by some de facto conspiracy? Or is someone unduly taking out on me the fact that I read -- for pleasure! -- Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco my senior year in high school?"

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Still prone on occasion to auditory illusion voices, emotional stuff... I'm at my most hurtful, perhaps, when I can't take something for what it by virtue of being what it is as a promise... My nature is perverse insofar that I know: whether human or divine, assurances are unfortunately ironic.

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.。・゚゚・(>_<)・゚゚・。.i put 2 wallz b3hind u jus 2 lean on(+_+)

The Devil, You Know...

Interests include numerology, demonology, alarmingtoDanBrownology...


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Tuesday, June 27, 2017

ACTION: #KillTheBill

Medicaid Country: Dawn In Rural America

Call 866-246-9371 and urge your Senator to REJECT the Better Care Reconciliation Act, which unfairly affects HIV-positive Medicaid recipients, and weakens consumer protections....


Sometimes It's Enough....

....That my heart is of 18-karat Lakota Gold, fit for a white trash puppy-love trinket; and that my cigarettes are stuffed with Perique tobacco.

(I love the superstition about not settling with Indians out of court -- that must be what's kept me poor -- Cherokee on my Oklahoma Grandmother's side.)

Tatonka-I-Yatanka


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Monday, June 26, 2017

Of Approximately 4,100 I Once Was One

Unfortunately, TNDC saw fit after an expedited and highly dubious process to evict me October 22, 2014. My rent was always paid, there were no complaints, no inspections by City or County workers, and in fact, on the day I was to be exited, the Sheriff's department was nowhere to be seen -- instead, five Tenderloin Station uniformed sergeants were there to scream at me and keep their distance...

I'm not sure what is due me, but something must be. TNDC and Donald Falk broke every law known to man in the City and County of San Francisco regarding tenants and recipients of HUD low-income housing.

Most recently, I've discovered that there is an affidavit at the Grove St. courthouse that demands I sign it. Not sure what to do there...


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I Don't Need That Bullshit



PS Now apparently that is Jonesy under the house. She answers my "Meows" and is vocal with me... She might be an outside cat from now on... Doesn't explain who shaved off a tuft of her hair the day she was abducted, nor does it make sense of local law enforcement's bizarre behavior during the phone calls I made after she went missing...


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Saturday, June 24, 2017

Happy Pride!


Note the red ribbon: it was 1985, Richmond, California; the fight against AIDS (a disease primarily affecting the GLBT community, as well as women and minorities) was in full swing across the bay. Most everyone in our class picture wore one.


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Let Them Eat...

"None of us suffers as much as we should, or loves as much as we say." —Djuna Barnes, Nightwood


Woke up at midnight, and found it was the only time I could bake... Made a two-layer chocolate cake with (unfortunately runny) cream cheese frosting; and a batch of chocolate chocolate-chip cookies...

(Dedicated to Arthur, Bernie, et al. -- to all the odd ones in Rialto, whoever might be over there at 821, and for Noni's kids... Happy Summer!)


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Thursday, June 22, 2017

There Will Be A Light

....For Anthony Hill....For Bettie Jones and Quintonio LeGrier....For Keith Lamont Scott....And for the Rhoden Eight of Pike County, Ohio (three children of the family did survive through the nightmares in their heads, and should live though they might forever be scarred....)

So many of us still live, and through this day, scores drown in the Mediterranean escaping North Africa; Athens is on fire; Cairo and Caracas bleed.

But this isn't over, and we shall overcome.

UPDATE: Just on PBS: Since 2005, 82 non-federal police officers have been charged with murder or manslaughter after having taken another's life in the line of duty....

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I have yet to be compensated to my satisfaction by Walmart for the fact that one day, I put Clackamas meat in my mouth that never should have been sold. They still try to put on their self-indulgent little shitshow every time I come in to buy groceries, but as recently as yesterday, what did I see in the meat department but this:


I have a pretty good feeling about Doug McMillon in Bentonville, and I doubt he'd have a problem chucking the several thousand I averred would mollify me onto the NetSpend card for which I gave him and his people the routing number and account number.... Then again, he could always just donate to my GoFundMe site for these dang house renovations that are so pressing....

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Jonesy's still missing, I'm pretty sure; it looks like somebody else dropped off a "new" cat of the same breed by our house -- one that is still under the house and has no interest in us. I hope she is altered, otherwise mom's going to have more kittens on her hands....

Sarah at the San Francisco SPCA (where Jonesy has her papers for having been altered and innoculated) asked if I had reached out to local law enforcement and animal control. I assured her that they've made clear, in both Colusa and Glenn counties, that I'm not to expect to be protected or served.... Odd man out, for some reason or another (not that I didn't try.)

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Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Missing Cat in ZIP 95979: Jonesy

It's been over a week since someone abducted my 8 lb., blue-eyed seal point cat, Jonesy -- they might even have broken into the house to do so. Every time I call local law enforcement, I get worse than no help (is that even Colusa County or Glenn County sheriff's deputies who are picking up the phone...???)

Jonesy is almost eight years old and has been with me almost all her life. She has been altered (a cursory examination of the abdomen should reveal two small arrow-shaped tattoos), and has had her shots (her papers are on file with San Francisco's SPCA under my name, William R. Way as well as her own...)



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Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Ooh, Ooh, Imagine These From....

....Fractureme.com on YOUR DENTIST'S WALL or sprung upon an upwardly mobile primary care physician who's new digs are NOTHING YET TO THE WILD HAIR UP -- YOU BET -- THIS DREAM STAGER'S ASS:





I mean it. There's so much wrong with these (no, these aren't even the pre-tweaked jpegs an android tablet laughs at you with because you WILL NEVER KNOW HAXXXOR, l4m3! But all I have to do is have too little that's wrong going on, slip out the kitchen door on a whim, and use the fucking $60 dollar lie of a digital camera (Amazon Kindle -- FIRE! KAJI! FUEGO! OH NO! TOO HOT!

Anyway, I guess this is my passive aggressive post that tells the "WORLD" (sarcastic eyeroll or such) I'm 40 years old and whining about the fact that my brass in pocket amounts to $1,200 per month -- AND THAT'S JUST MY TOO MUCH BUTTERCREAM FROSTING GUBMINT CHECK. Brain-dead gay witch, they'll call me when my real physical beauty is stripped criminally by someone who might still one day work up the nerve to act scary cute! EVIL INDIAN! WHY WERE YOU HIDING IN YOUR APARTMENT FROM ME WHEN I DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH TIME IN THE DAY TO BREAK EVERY ONE OF THE BONES IN YOUR DELIGHTFUL, HATEFUL, MAGICAL NATIVE AMERICAN BODY! Giggles to Haros (not...)

Okay, I better have more than back issues. Let's just say, I'm perfectly superfluous in such splendid, lifelike ways!

Lo, though I malinger unsubtle and crass in the uncanny valley in humdrum reality, I am that bad for you....

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Ramadan Mubarak....

So much fuego, joto!

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Not so happy that the "Home Office" (Bentonville's Doug, or his cover) hired a Swatter/PWNer/Revenge Prankster to work me over in the front trash-in-big-trouble office, just because I bought, cooked, and put in my mouth contaminated hamburger processed by Interstate Meat Dist. (Clackamas, OR); yes, the incident happened in March, but I still have the hamburger, and I refuse to "let go and move on..." Besides, as of last week, that concern's hamburger was still for sale at the Willows, California store (#02053) as recently as last week.

Taking the tack they have makes Walmart look as stupid as ever -- why don't they just settle up with me or slip me some good hush money? Now, they're in trouble (even more than ever) with AT&T, the FBI, and possibly, the FCC (of course, there's still the net inconvenience for little 'ol me: AT&T can't check my credit so that I can secure a proper adult contract, I can't look up my own phone activity on myatt, et cetera)....

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When I was a wee oogle working for the phone company, SF General Hospital was already known to me as somewhere no one wanted to end up, or need for one's continued survival.  I've been a Ward 86 (yikes, Mary, did they have to use that number?) patient since 2008, and it's been a lifesaver, yet more alarming than any staff wants or any patient needs -- as the Zuck brands that much-feared and wondered-at Potrero facility, as so much good news abounds, I can't really lose sight of the fact that my fellow patients (unlike, in the eyes of some, me) must be treated with dignity and earnestness. Ward 86's patients include elderly Chinese straight married women, undocumented Puerto Rican trannies, Protestant clergy who might need more than penicillin this time, and jailbird sex bombs not given their art fag due; It's so squee Galliano would pay a "journalist" to quote him sneering at the place. I hate that I have no reason, only a hinkey sense, when I'm sure powers that be, upon whom I rely to live, are doing little other than dicking around on the Neighborhood Trolley inbound for the Land of Make Believe (Meow, meow, meow?)

Still, maybe I can survive my inexcusable reliance on San Francisco City services (what pharma money? What academic clout? What international reputation? What touchy federal funding? What matter-of-fact assumptions that Northern California can be awfully backwards sometimes when it comes to health care?) Just think good thoughts about me reader. Or slander me in your twisted, oversexed, paranoid mind. Whatever. Love you too!

Bright spot in researching for a cure:  https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/hidden-hiv-reservoirs-exposed-by-telltale-protein/?WT.mc_id=SA_TW_HLTH_NEWS

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And with that, Mom and her dog are off to bed, and I'm probably going to camp in the bed of the F150, until I don't...  Hope everyone's in a good place, knows how to be and can be, or is close enough for him or herse!lf to one....

Monday, May 29, 2017

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Almost a Mea Culpa, and Kicky Photos of 95979 Weeds

So of course I've made a total fool out of myself, rushing to disclose what among my circle of friends was probably common knowledge anyway, just because the SF Department of Public Health's "remote medical record checking for the Muppet Babies and us" is rather janky.... Just too much dark stuff has happened in too recent a time....

Basically, I had only to read the FAQ (coded in Comic Sans, natch) to know that HIV status and numbers, and other love bug info from one's blood work -- that stuff is not available except through face-to-face with one's provider (a real departure from the old, much-missed MyHero portal.)

I'm sure Val thinks that's hilarious.... But what's the point of providing Ward 86 patients with accounts (mine was first introduced to me last year, and no special mention that HIV or other STD info would not be available through the portal)? (Also, how long will General's Building 80 host the AIDSY, the undocumented, and those whining their best Chloe Webb-at-the-end-of-SID AND NANCY impressions downstairs, as well as Urgent Care on the first floor? Not much longer, I'm sure -- not with Zuckerberg's name on everything.)

Of course, the readers I really care about are the ones who can probably rest easy knowing my viral load remains undetectable, and my CD4 count is fantastic (and since we divulged -- don't you love my blood work? Pretty healthy, n'est pas?)

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With that big lede out of the way, I now bring you lovely pics of this weekend's weeds and volunteers:






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Still a catch (ever swing it my way, Boom? Or maybe Trueluck's still out there, sexy and stuff... I tell you, guys love my Claude Rains impression -- it totally gets them hard! Hard in the penis region!

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And keep an eye out for me on Patreon -- I told them my focus is on photography, but there's lots of creative stuff I do, and I'd love to synergize... Maybe with a fractureme.com "store"? (Thanks for the inspiration in re fractureme, "Bernie"... Hearts!)

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Saturday, May 27, 2017

瓜田李下

I know that Dr. Havlir said my December numbers looked as good as ever, and that the (EXPENSIVE, GURL!) Atripla appears to be working (she has a few times suggested switching up meds, but that it was unnecessary, and that if I was partial to the Sustiva in the Atripla -- particularly the vivid dreams, which I like -- she saw no reason to change...) Nevertheless, this shit DOES look awfully weird:




Maybe I just have a hard time navigating the MySFHealth portal? I don't know, but I can't seem to find any record of my HIV numbers.... VERY ODD.

(BTW, June 5th will be HIV Long-term Survivors Day, I've heard tell... Good luck, all!)

UPDATE: If you didn't know, now you know:



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