Greetings, Muselings! I’m writing to you with the help of voice recognition software, which calls itself Matt Dictate. You know you’re in trouble when your MacDictate program doesn’t know it’s own bloody name. Matt it is.
The other day I moved a refrigerator with my wheelchair. Now you need to understand that I can’t even comb my own hair, but I can move a frickin’ refrigerator. I think that sums up my life pretty well. It took me almost a week to write a blog about health care. It got accidentally deleted. My hands are aching from the effort several days later and the damned blog has disappeared into the ether. Fuck. It was a great one too. An indictment of the fart joke we call a medical system in this country. Damn it was funny. I don't think I will ever be able to find quite as insulting a description of Julie, the gatekeeping bridge-troll from Dr. Gjeltema’'s office. You see, I was finally approved by the mega-corporation, Health Net (who reached me from their flagship office on the Death Star) for my own wheelchair. Health Net has yanked my chain about this chair for seven months. When they aren't torturing cripples, Health Net likes to take candy from babies (By the way, my voice recognition software thinks I said “can be thrown babies.”)
Now, apart from moving refrigerators, wheelchairs are great for getting cripples from point A to point B. (Yes, I am a cripple. I am not “differently-abled” except perhaps on the moon.) I wonder how they thought I was getting around without a chair? Lucky for me, the Muscular Dystrophy Association lends durable medical equipment to people who are Jerry's Kids like me. Thanks Jerry, I almost forgive you for your homophobic public comments. As I love to tell people, whether they want to hear it or not, Jerry Lewis should not be afraid of gay sex since he can already fit his head up his ass. By the way – at this point, I would like run over Matt Dictate with my newly approved wheelchair. After all it can move refrigerators so it should be able crush Matt Dictate.
Matt Dictate will not let me say “fuck” or “cock sucker” or “head up his ass”. It says “fox” instead of “fuck” and when I let loose with a rant including a series of the aforementioned curse words here is what Mac Dick thinks I said. Read all the way through, trust me:
Cheney a hot pink thought they won't they had up to that good as that look at this as a pp in his head very is not a prayer gay sex than they are in a head to bed did have all cake out in wall they thought a long day and out of the bag as that would at this as a new depicting students at his wings' skull of a fluke or so a little studio soon as a new news and say a for him his own he was asked about in what it calls a and contributed to his for a wife's is and I clitoris for life and also the choice right run it like you should read or choose life for Jews that modeling by the show's life good new rules went off solo wound you believe that abortion is the choice of what and are absolute stuff with the choice of sites noting you don't need the film is from the because you've been designing and conducting fell for that what I can't say when like that I can flit in and from a
I did not make any of this up – how could I?
Along that absurd same vein, I ordered a “blanket cradle” from the medical supply place. It’s for people who can’t move blankets with their feet or legs. Wendy opened the box, which contained the blanket cradle and a flyer for dildos and vibrators!!! Not even special handicap friendly dildos (chin strap-on?) but your garden variety able-bodied sex toys. I’m pretty sure I’m this company’s youngest customer and even I was taken aback so what gives?
Kathy made a wheelchair bird perch for Ronald who enjoys hanging out with me flitting from perch to lap to the big perch. The other day while seated on the perch she set off my life alert alarm with her beak! Fortunately, the operator found it amusing. Perhaps I need to teach Ronnie to say “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”
I’m trying to teach her to yell “Freebird!”
So my right hand is almost gone. I tried to give Mayra the “thumbs up” sign the other day to indicate I was fine and my hand cramped up something awful. Just imagine how much it would hurt to high five!
Joni Mitchell said “Laughing and crying, you know it’s the same release.” Or as Matt Dictate would say: “Land less than an and know his name in the release.”
ALS is fucking hilarious. Stay tuned for more "mac-a-propisms."