Whey!!! Finally, after 8 weeks of torture, mocking, and exaggerated limping, I am finally having my purple leg cast removed. Ahhhh, poor dear,I hear you cry, what happened to your leg? Well, when you're all sitting comfortably, I'll begin......

Basically, the entire incident can be summed up by this nice and easy sum....

Frisbee just happening to go over a hill + Idiot following it ---------> 4 days in Hospital ( Childrens Ward!!!) + 2 hrs surgery on knee + (8 weeks in plaster, 6 with crutches)

Lets just say this, I won't be playing frisbee for a while....

You will never understand
how it feels to live your life
with no meaning or control
and with nowhere left to go.

How fucking melodramatic. I might be white collar, but the way I see it, unless you're financially independent you're one of the Common People.

So it seemed to be kicking in this morning. Got up early, paid a whole lot of bills. It was actually pretty good; I got all the important stuff out of the way: car payment, HELOC, overdue cellular bills, utilities. Postponed the student loan payments, because hell, what are they going to do, come over and suck the knowledge out of us? I was feeling pretty decent, and then I got to work.

Let me explain how I divide money up so this makes sense: I put aside $500 per paycheck for day to day living expenses: food, gasoline, prescriptions, that sort of stuff. That goes into one checking account. The rest goes into another account, from which all the monthly bills are paid. This way, we're sure to have the money for that stuff. It's a great plan, in theory, except that we're about as good at keeping on a budget as Paris Hilton is at remaining a virgin. So I was dismayed, but not all that surprised, to find that we blew $600 this weekend.

Some of it was due to supplies that we will get reimbursed for; some of it was expenses resulting from attending a wedding. Some of it was medicine, some of it was food, some of it was gasoline. Really, nothing in there was unexpected... but, as usual, it builds up like old newspapers in a crazy man's house.

I'm sick of playing the game, you know. This culture of crass consumerism, of credit handed out on silver platters until you make a single mistake, in which case its interest rate will shoot up twenty points, the corporate whores attempting to rape you as much as possible before you declare your inevitable bankruptcy. I'm sick of binding arbitration clauses in locked twenty-four month contracts which state that I am legally the cellphone company's bitch until they say I've been released.

We are no longer customers. We are marks. We are resources to exploit with shady lawyers, fine print, and usurious fees. The corporations have all the rights we do and none of the indemnity thanks to laws bought and paid for by the railroad industry so many years ago. I heard a story on NPR today about how "content providers" like Disney think the FCC is stifling their First Amendment rights. You know what? YOU'RE A FUCKING CORPORATION! YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE ANY FIRST AMENDMENT RIGHTS. What are we going to do if you break the law? Throw the corporation in jail? Could a corporation be arrested for a traffic violation?

And who is going to change it? You and I? Yeah. Sure. Hang on, let me go grab the several million dollars with which I can buy a few senators and representatives off to get my agenda heard. What's that you say? I don't have several million dollars! Huh! That's funny. Those other guys seem to have plenty of cash.

And then, as if this plutocracy wasn't bad enough, we have the vocal psychotic minority that would like to see your golden rule and raise you a theocracy. Because, you know, that sort of thing has always worked so well in the past.

I'll figure out a way for us to eat and get to work for the next ten days, in any case. Maybe I'll borrow more from my mom. Or my wife's mom. Maybe I'll sell more of my possessions. Maybe I'll, I don't know, take a second job. None of it matters, because in two weeks I'll get another $500 and it'll all be pissed away again.

I'm sick of playing the game.

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