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More things are wrong than right, so I’m ranting. And you’re gonna listen, okay?
Bureaucratic bull crap. Weather. Husbands who whine. Panting dogs. Having to put a freakin’ meal on the table every day. Mud. Rain. Gov’ment.
Enough?
Just beginning.
We have got a good three inches in the past two days. I’m so tired of calling people and cancelling stuff I could scream. It ain’t like I live in the Morocco or the sub-continent of Asia. I live in freakin’ Merika, the old red-white-blue wavy thing. I should not have a road that turns into a mud slide.
I should not be living in a state that has decided that the monsoons are the best kept secret of southeast Asia and they deserve their own. It now rains here all of June and July with regularity. I did not move to the Northwest for a REASON. This is simply wrong. Try being cooped up for hours on end with two smelly dogs and four cats and a whiny husband. And all but the human think it’s my fault.
I’m always in favor of government programs, but I have a request. COULD YOU STOOGES HIRE SOMETHING ABOVE THE LEVEL OF IMBECILE TO RUN THE NUTS AND BOLTS OF THE OPERATION?
The Contrarian has been trying for a month now to make his SCHEDULED appointment at the VA. Oh but no, you can’t just willy nilly make an appointment. We’ve been FLAGGED. We haven’t completed our yearly MEANS test. The fact that they did not send it–why mere extraneous fluffery.
A means test asks what your income and holdings are, to determine how much of anything of your bill you should pay. For years we paid nothing. All the sudden we have to pay. We have to pay because we are land rich. The land (inherited) is where we have our poor hovel of a home on. So we are wealthy although of course we have dial up, never had a cell phone, no plasma screen, one operating raggedy vehicle, and shop at the Salvation Army for clothes.
But we have land. Apparently the feds think that we can cut off a few feet at a time and sell it to pay “our share” of our yearly VA bills. Since our income is almost solely derived from the gov’ment in the form of SS, they freakin’ know what we make. But of course, the left hand doesn’t know. . . .well you know the ending of that.
So, they send us a means test, and we I, fill the thing out and I put it in the mail the second week or so of June. We get a notice that we are to call on July 2 to make an appointment. No explanation why we must wait. But we do, and I call, and glory be, the sods are on VACATION! Guess they don’t flag their own freakin’ appointment calendars.
We are advised of course, that if this is an emergency, to “hang up and call 911.” Oh thanks so very much moronic team of intellectual ineptitude. I would rather make an appointment and bring in the body next week at the scheduled time if you don’t mind. Just have a body bag at the ready so we don’t upset the living patients when I bring him in.
So we call Monday. STILL on vacation. Yeah the feds take such good care of themselves. So today the Contrarian calls. He reaches the holding area, and TWICE after ten minutes is summarily disconnected. They always apologize profusely but this is built into the system and WE ALL KNOW IT.
He leaves a message finally on voice mail. After FOUR hours, he calls again. The alleged human on the other end, says, “hey, we haven’t received your means test, bud. No can set appointment!”
The Contrarian responds, “Well fine, then give me an extension on my meds until you get that straightened out.”
“NO can do amigo. No means test, you don’t officially exist!”
I hear the fine exploding brain cells going on at this point. He is sent to the emergency pill giver. VOICE MAIL!!!
She returns the call within an hour. “She starts the whole crap again–“We’ll send you a new means test Mr. Peyton.”
“NO, NO, NO,” he screams. The mail is NOT that slow. She puts him on hold. Returns in moments.
“Ah, we found it Mr. Peyton. It ‘just’ arrived.”
“What’s the postmark?”
“June 28.”
“THEN IT FREAKIN’ DID NOT JUST ARRIVE!”
“I’ll enter it into the system, Mr. Peyton, and you can call tomorrow for an appointment.”
Yeah, and cows will be flying by the window too. You wanna bet that that will go smoothly?
Did I mention that it rains every five minutes?
I’m going to take a nap. Oh joy, off to battle the mosquitoes. They apparently think this is a good place to COME IN OUT OF THE RAIN!!!