Saddam died?

Saddam is rubbed out before he could tell the world where the W.M.D.s came from in the first place, Huge war, run on borrowed (China) money, war profiteers, re-deployment, dead brown people and more on...OIL WARS the MOVIE!

funny how a blog tells the story backwards.

like the gentle rain washing mud from dreary puddles that were my eyes I woke up breathing fine, no pain, good mood, the nightmare is over.
Will and Caffo took care of themselves quick enough when they saw the strep commin, Bizzy got some but the witchy remedies shook the bug out, I was torched with sickness.
I was so exited that I spent a good chunk of time this morning eating things I couldn't all week.
Funny how you learn to appreciate chewing and swallowing.
That hurt so bad I had decided to find a biker bar, poke my head in the door and yelled “Hey, any of you queers wanna come tell me who's bike I just knocked over?”
I would maybe wake up six months later with no more strep throat.
My jaw still hurts to open much but I can swallow, what a blessing.
The air smelled sweet, the sky was clear, life is still a struggle but ya cant meet a challenge very well without your health.
I quit smoking over this, I look forward to looking down my nose at smokers when I see you.
Things that buggered my immune system:
stress
smoking
Things that helped me get better:
echinacea,
Nux Vomica,
Caffeine Jones,
Will , Outside in clinic,
not getting in showdown/gunfight, pills,
Vitasea, straws,
company,
being left alone,
the pot,
the other pot,
Caffeines hot packs,
And Tanya L Page MD

ick

I haven't written in the last couple days because well...I died, my whole world was a bleary daze of fitful sleep and painful blurry wakings plus a weird channeling of obscure knowledge that I can't use, i had no ability to swallow anything.
Caffeine is a healer, she innovates when her man is down.
She took a few loose socks, cut them in half and filled them with rice and or salt, she sewed them shut and now she keeps at least two in the toaster oven at all times, why? they hold heat, when I wake up screaming because my neck is swelling shut, the hot bags help a lot.
So I went to “Outside in” yesterday, it's the place where the street kids go when they are sick.
I had to find out what I had because I'm not getting any better, the fear was that I'm so damn old I may not be seen, they are set up for the under 18 crowd, it was a real gamble.
Lucky for me C.H. cheer girl Bizzy Bawdy was also sick so we went together. (one sec. hot bags are dinging in the toaster oven)
OK
We walked in and were given tiny clipboards to sign in with, turned them in and then eventually graduated to bigger clipboards, we sat down. Z was there touting her new unnecessary pregnancy.
She had a big smile and a loud voice, she seemed very proud of herself.
I looked around at the competition, they were mostly all over age for the med clinic and all were looking at Z with daggers, mostly because her mouth was running “Wouldn't it suck if they saw me ahead of all theses people just because I'm a teenager? Theres nothing wrong with me.”
Now I was too sick to swallow saliva , couldn't spit in the clinic lobby, and too weak to get out of my seat to spit outside. The ibuprofen was wearing off and when that happens my fever shoots back up and my lymph nodes swell up.
I had to use my mind to control this mess because I was so far from my comfort system at home, I decided to go to a “happy place”.

I dropped my hat down low over my face and shriveled up as best I could into my coat, I placed my hands over the pocket openings to keep from getting ripped off.
I started to imagine myself as an x ray of energy, bolting from the constellation Cygnus through the vast empty, zipping through space as two physicists bet on whether I exist or not.
I kept getting distracted from my dream by "teen baby mama drama",
“Yeah he just knocked me up and now won't have anything to do with me...he told me” You know what to do.” what an ass.”
“Didn't you say a long time ago he was an ass?”
“yeah but this is really bad.”
I couldn't keep a good image in my head in that room full of sickies (Goddess bless their hearts all of um) I passed out a lot and lost some hearing and speech.
I looked up at one point and saw a dude who must have had what I have because he was quietly standing in a corner sobbing, I gave him the universal, international dude expression for "sucks donnit" and passed out again.
Bizzy woke me up as they were asking us to leave and try again tomorrow Z was getting treated. I wished her luck. I got her back.
I don't remember the trip home or most of last night, I know it was really painful so I camped outside of Bizzys door to make sure and get a ride back to the clinic for another try.
When she got up she was feeling a lot better but offered to give me a ride anyway.
Then as she examined herself, a bunch of blood shot out her mouth like a shotgun blast, we were once again “Team sicko”.
We got back to the people terrarium at 8 am sharp and didn't really wait long at all, the staff were very kind and one of them gave me a $10 gift card for answering some questions.
The doc took a look at me and said “Yep that's strep”, handed me two bottles of pills and then made out with me for like ten seconds, I woke up and realized I was delirious and that she must have told me some stuff I needed to know, because there's no way in San Antonio that she would be making out with me. She was happy to repeat herself and tell me how to properly take the pills. I saw myself in the mirror, I sure was hansom with one eye glazed over and the other a black pothole filled with green goo.
Two other ladies came in and filled a few bottles of Dingo brand blood for their collection, they were relieved to see my viens intact, they see lot of junkies.
In the end, they didn't want to charge me, that was great because the cost is $15 and I only had a paltry $14, I gave them 10.
I thought it was over and that I would be well soon but this stuff takes a long time.
I still can't swallow solid food, I can swallow pills and that's about it, milk and water hurt real bad so I have to time eating with ibuprofen blasts.
Caffeine really is getting run down with a new baby, a sick husband, an 8 year old and no real extended family, the roomies are helping out a lot by doing my little girl's homework each night and letting the dog out for us.
Caffeine (when she gets time) has been rubbing caster oil into my neck, she made a device that shoots Oregon grape root and goldenseal into the very back of my throat and she introduced me to colloidal silver. I'm glad I picked a mate who's hobby is healing.
Funny how when Caffo (Or anyone for that matter) make a healing potion, it's not just for one thing, symptom or body part, she says, drip it in your ear, your nose, your throat and your butt, all with the same finger.
ok my symptoms are coming back, I gotta find a happy place.

Hey friends!
I lost a hell of a lot of work this week, send a cash donation with a card bearing your name and address and be eligible for a $10 gift card drawing.
Sick as a dawg c/o
clownhouse
2425 NE Alberta
Portland OR
97211
wow, Caffeine should get a gold star, she does gigantic loads of laundry, deals with a little kids keeping her up at all hours of the night, a sick hubby doing the same and for no pay and with little help.
People help but for the number of hours spent in this hell, she is all alone...at least until I get better.

still sick

I thought that my roomates had gotten me a few birds to keep me company, I opened the slits of what used to be my eyelids and noticed them.
Six foot wingspans, no feathers on the head, circling over me.

Caffeine Jones gold star awards

Awards time!

Today's Good Neighbor Award goes to Alberta Co-op, for thinking of us
when their freezer went kaput. They gave us enough ice cream to supply
two bands for a week. This was a boon to ice cream eaters, but not so
much to the co-op. I am taking donations for their freezer fund.

I am pleased and proud to be able to award 3...count 'em, three gold stars to Clown House members!
Gold Star #1 goes to Loren, for diligence in completing his chores. Even
when he only sort-of lived here, Loren has obeyed the chore wheel,
whenever he has been in town. Thanks, Loren!
Gold Star #2 (I said number two, heh-heh...) goes our new roomie, David,
(The one I hired by accident), not only for exemplary completion of his
chores, but for removing the poop that had been stuck to the underside
of the toilet for several weeks. Thanks, David, for making the toilet
safe for the dog and baby to play in, once again!
Gold Star # 3 goes to Miss Bizzy Bawdy, for her intrepid investigation
into the broken washing machine. After studying those mysterious
cleaning droids on the World Wide Web, Miz Biz had deduced that they
have a clutch, and ours is broken. Now, if anyone can tell us where to
get a washing machine clutch...
Also, please email her with donations and condolences. She has taken the
recent death of Former President Gerald Ford very hard, and she is
seeking $$ to fund a pilgrimage to DC, to pay her respects.

Finally, I have the sad duty of handing out another Take One For the
Team Award, to Dingo, who is coughing miserably in front of me, right
now. Sicker than the dog he is named after, Dingo has been trotting off
to work, as usual, while still playing the role of circus boss, feeding
his family, and putting up with me. I remember all the sick days I've
slogged through, D, and I am truly grateful for your sacrifice.

Thanks, team! Let's give them a round of applause!
And remember to congratulate our winners when you see them. Gifts of
money, food, massage, etc, would be appreciated.
-CJ

about my illness

Ok long story short:
4am the one year old sounds like a chainsaw,
I go and march around trying to get him back to sleep,
He pokes my eye,
germs move from my eye to the rest of my body,
I fall very ill,
I call in sick to work,
They say no,
I work that day and the next,
My jaw swells shut along with my eye,
I get stuck eating through a straw,
I go insane with pain and lack of sleep,
Caffo calls into my work the third day and laughs at them,
My "day off" comes and Caffeine has to do a gig dressed as me,
I had to stay home to cry and lick my wounds,
Now I have to press a hot shower head to my jaw
every three or four hours just to talk,
I now know more about trash tv than I ever thought I would.

Now, believe me friends, this ain't no picnic, I was talking to a ringmaster from California the other day.
He is a nice guy, he told me he wants to have a kid to help him run his show, I laughed my ass off.
Thats what I thought would happen too.
NOW, in my insanity caused by pain and suffering, some good came of it.

#1 I was washing dishes (day 2 at work)and in a moment of maddness I was able to comprehend the vast size and scope of the event horizon of a black hole. I saw the way time and space bend at this point, noticed how very small I am in comparison and got a good laugh.

#2. I wrote a fifth season to Antonio "the red priest" Vivaldi's four seasons, not a violin concerto, what I wrote is on the bass and has sounds inspired by the Alaskan coastal region (Vivaldi's Four Seasons was inspired by the Italian Countryside). I don't have a bass and I've never been to Alaska but hey, I'm crazy with pain and lack of sleep, when I do get a bass I'm rockin Vivaldi.
#3. I may have found a window to quit smoking YAY!

I think it may be over

I'm watching Cops, it's almost 4 am and I think the "worst night of the worst year" I can remember is almost over.
2006 will stick out in my head as the age of dissapointment and toil.
Why the show Cops?
Well, my ears are swollen shut and my glands hurt like heck and I need some comedy to distract, in this case it's a guy in acid washed jeans and a mullet getting nicked for DWI.
In a sick, "punishment like" twist of fate, I was just well enough to work sick for two days dishwashing, but too sick when my days off came to do the New Years Show.
So I've spent most of the last few days in agony, I wake up blind in one eye (sealed shut by goo)all day my hearing goes in and out as my lymph nodes swell and retract, my head is pounding and I have a full body fever, the worst part is that I'm dealing with it mostly alone.
Hours go by as I drift in and out, all I hear is the tv and the occasional sound of children or clowns doing what they do.
I feel like if I could just cut my head off I'll feel better.
I can't swallow without a ton of pain so it's really hard to sleep.
I trained myself to sleep without swallowing, it still sucks.
One good thing about this curse, I,ve gone 24 hours of more without smoking, it seems like a good start to quitting, thats kinda why I'm telling you all this...to help hold me to it.
The other reason is because you are literally the only one I can talk to, I'm all alone.
Now back to Cops and people with worse problems than I.