the slappy hand of justice

A shitty doctor who gave me bad medical care 17 years ago is now up on FORTY SEVEN FELONY COUNTS for doing, well, what he did to me: overcharging and charging for nonexistent services.

Odd that I reported him back then and only now is the bastard on the hook. You don’t forget a name like “Mario Rosenberg.” (He’s an Argentine.)

The guy literally stuck something up my ass and then overcharged me for it. I recall telling my next doctor the story and he said “Mario did that?” Yeah, and Luigi helped.

Government as TV Movie: Gonzo tries to strongarm Ashcroft

It’s not just that they insisted on violating the law and the Constitution. It’s not just that they tried to pressure the Attorney General to approve it when he had already refused. And it’s not just that they did it while he was ill and not acting as Attorney General.

They did it at night in his hospital room, causing the acting Attorney General and the director of the F.B.I. to go lights-and-siren through the nation’s capital and run upstairs to the hospital room and stop them.

And then tried to refuse a witness to the discussion afterwards.

And then, after Ashcroft had walked over the whole deal, they got what they wanted anyway because Gonzo got the job.

How close are we to a coup, anyway? Who’s got five bucks on it?

Reference: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/15/washington/15cnd-attorneys.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin

Summertime drinking

I’ve been hitting the bubbly pretty hard. Got a case of it, 15 bottles, on Friday. Only three left.

The bubbly in this case is San Pellegrino.

I have a tremendous affection to this stuff (aiiee, brand loyalty) because I had so much of it in Italy as a kid. It’s probably no better or worse than any fizzly water.

HAPPY DEVILBALL IS YOUR NEMESIS/FRIEND

I own a strange object. It is a plastic ball about the size of a baseball, with a hole in it, a dial, and some lettering identifying it as a “treat ball.” Like other such objects, it’s intended to amuse animals by leading them to poke at the ball and get treats. The twist with this particular one is that you can record your voice (or other sounds) so that the ball, when batted about, plays a short sound clip. I’m not sure what effect it’s supposed to have on the pet.

This particular treat ball was given to me by a friend. The voice recorded within is that of her ex mother-in-law, who is a unique person in that she’s a series of DSM-IV codes. I won’t go into it. However, the sound that issues from the ball is a breathy high woman’s voice, pleading with you.

The final effect is similar to that of the glowing-pulsating-red-heart ghost bride at Disneyland’s Haunted House, calling you back, back, back to the grave.

I had it around the house for a couple years at least. It was on a little used desk but sometimes I bumped it and the voice came out. A couple of times it went off unexpectedly, which was a treat. My cat just looks at me funny when it makes noise.

Recently I put it in my car’s trunk. I am not sure why; maybe I meant to take it to someone’s house and make them afraid. Anyway, I would hear it when I braked or took a hard turn, or went over a bump. For a while I didn’t realize what the sound was and kept thinking it was the stereo or maybe my phone having pocketdialed someone. I found it in the trunk again today and thought I should remove it because constant use would run down a battery.

Anyway I camvideo’d it:

embedded video

SAVE THE CHOCOLATE

via la_lisa, an appeal to save the integrity of chocolate from adulterous chocobusiness scheming.

I’m not a huge fan of cocoa butter myself (hurf white chocolate bleah) but it’s PART OF CHOCOLATE. You can’t replace it with partially hydrogenated neat’s foot oil or something and call it chocolate. It Would Be Wrong.

I BOLGED about it over at buzznet: http://ignatz.buzznet.com/user/journal/191271/ to get the TEENS involved.

Yes, this is weak stupid bourgeois activism. I’m a suburban white kid who likes to cook. Go stuff it.