Mrs. Dragon is in hospital, in the ICU and it doesn’t look like she is going to make it. My poor Mary is being taken away to be with her Heavenly Father and her mom and dad. Please pray for those of us still here and dealing with this right now as I know all of you, my on line friends and family will.

Good Morning Campers, 

Well, Mrs. Dragon is still sick.  Still doing poorly.  Still very weak.  BUT, I think she is a little bit better than she has been.  So, that’s a plus.  And that’s what I am holding on to.  I was supposed to go back to work tomorrow, but I sent an email to my boss and to my boss’s boss and told them that I was going to extend my leave and stay home and take care of Mrs. Dragon because I don’t think she is strong enough to take care of herself yet.  I hope that she will be by the end of the week.  She is still scaring the hell out of me.  So please continue with your prayers and good wishes.  They are deeply appreciated. 

Okay, enough about that, let’s move on to some happy thoughts and get Impish’s mind on other things.  

I definitely need one of those signs for my front door!

Okay, so that was cool.  Rookie Defense back Brandin Echols of the Philadelphia Eagles picks off a Tom Brady pass in Sunday’s loss and after the game he asked Tom Brady to sign the ball.  Some people are very understanding and some people are saying he needs to grow up.  Look, in my humble Dragon Opinion, he’s a rookie.  He’s a young kid.   He probably could have grown up watching Tom Brady on TV, could be one of his heroes, so to intercept one of his passes, man that’s like a dream come true!  And then to get one of his heroes signature, on the ball he actually intercepted?  Hell!  I’m a grown up and I don’t think I could resist that. So, the dragon says…give the kid a break!

And speaking of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, WTF is up with Antonio Brown?  I know he’s friggin’ crazy.  He’s already been in all kinds of trouble and caused all kinds of problems for his team, but how self-absorbed and self-centered do you have to be, to walk off the field in the middle of the third quarter, getting half undressed, throwing some of your clothing into the stands and then making a spectacle of yourself in the end zone?  Nobody seems to know why, but people are asking for understanding.  I guess if you want to throw away your very well paying career, then yeah…I can understand…no, I really can’t.  Anybody out there got anything at all?

Our border protection  works!  Here we have one of our border guards apprehending someone trying to illegally cross the border.  And before you get overly concerned about treatment, the dragon will be released back to it’s natural habitat unharmed by our border guard.

I think I know that guy!  I think I hired him  to do some yard work around the lair!  I don’t recommend him at all!  Very lazy.  Didn’t get anything done.

Happened in rehearsal today:  
Actor:  Line.  
Me:  No  
Actor:  Line, please?  
Me:  No  
Actor:  LINE.  PLEASE.  
Me:  YOUR LINE IS NO.

I wonder what the part of my brain that used to store people’s phone numbers is doing nowadays…

I’m not 100% sure, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that the person who lives in this house has upset someone else…

Love is in the air…or chemical weapons…one or the other.

What’s the worst thing to step on in the dark?  

Someone else’s foot when you live alone…

Irony

A little too literal

“Be Berry, Berry Qwiet.  We’re hunting wabbits!”

Whenever I am with my family and someone says, “Wow, you have a beautiful family!” I always reply with, “Well, we left the ugly ones at home.”

Did You Know … 
Or…welcome to the world of completely useless information

As a guy who works for the government, I’d say, yeah, that’s a pretty good example.

And yet another good example of why men don’t live as long as women.

Have you ever listened to someone for a while and wondered…
“Who ties your shoelaces for you?”

Took me a while to decide whether or not I was going to use this one.  Some good photos and some not so good ones.  I guess you can be the judge.  

35 Incredible Photos from a Chaotic Year for the US Military

https://www.military.com/daily-news/2021/12/30/2021-pictures-35-images-chaotic-year-military.html

 

 

That’s actually quite a concept…and probably quite true.  Which means it’s ultimately MY generations fault for not teaching OUR kids the right way.

And just think how much fun 2022 is going to be…

I just fired myself from cleaning my house.  I didn’t like my attitude and was taking too many coffee breaks!

New Year’s Resolution:
To become an expert in both cattle roping and iambic pentameter, in the hope of becoming the Poet Lariat.

 

Gently placing your finger on someone’s lips and saying, “Shhh, not another word…” is super romantic, but cops don’t seem to think so.

I have a major problem with only one word with this sign.

Gee, I can’t imagine what the code is…
And that’s it my friends.  As a last update, Mrs. Dragon is still doing quite poorly, but is a little bit better than yesterday, so there is that.  Please keep your thoughts and prayers going for her.  And may love and happiness follow you until we meet again.

Good Morning Campers, 

Well, so far, so good.  Today is January 2 and the world hasn’t imploded.  I’m not counting my chickens yet, but … 

In other news, Mrs. Dragon seems to be doing a little better.  A little better each day is good.  I just wish it were faster.  I’m supposed to go back to work on Tuesday, but if she’s not ready … hell, if I’m not ready, it ain’t gonna happen.  That’s what sick leave and regular leave is for.  I’m still not feeling well at all. 

So, anyway, let’s get this show on the road and we can talk about things as we go along. 

Crescent Rolls?!

You know you’re in trouble when the little voices in your head start a chat group.

I went to visit a psychic. 
I knocked on her front door and she yelled, “Who is it?” 
So I left.

I don’t want to say I’m old and worn out, but I make sure I’m nowhere near the curb on trash day.

“What a good boy you are.  Yes you are.  Would you eat someone for me?”

Three weeks after her wedding day, Joanna called her minister.  “Reverend,” she wailed, “John and I  had a dreadful fight!” 

“Calm down, my child,” said the minister, “it’s not half as bad as you think it is.  Every marriage has to have its first fight.” 

“I know, I know!” said Joanna, “but what am I going to do with the body?”

My Therapist:  Why aren’t you being honest with me?  

Me:  Because I don’t want to be hospitalized…

The average person walks 913 miles per year, and drinks 556 glasses (27.8 gallons) of wine per year. 

That works out to 33 miles to the gallon;  Which ain’t bad…

“Go my pretty.  Go and find me a dragon.  One who will eat someone for me.”

This one is from Aussie Pete: 

My  New Year’s Resolution is to never make any  New Year’s Resolutions !  

Pete, I can’t blame you at all, buddy.  Sounds like a GREAT idea to me.

Diary of a Snow Shoveler

December 8: 
6:00 PM.  It started to snow.  The first snow of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven.  It looked like a Grandma Moses Print.  So romantic we felt like newlyweds again.  I love snow!

December 9:  We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape.  What a fantastic sight!  Can there be a more lovely place in the Whole World?  Moving here was the best idea I’ve ever had.  Shoveled for the first time in years, felt like a boy again.  I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the snowplow came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again.  What a perfect life.

December 12: 
The sun has melted all our lovely snow.  Such a disappointment.  My neighbor tells me not to worry, we’ll definitely have a white Christmas.  No snow on Christmas would be awful!  Bob says we’ll have so much snow by the end of winter, that I’ll never want to see snow again.  I don’t think that’s possible.  Bob is such a nice man, I’m glad he’s our neighbor.

December 14:  Snow, lovely snow!  8″ last night.  The temperature dropped to -20.  The cold makes everything sparkle so.  The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks.  This is the life!  The snowplow came back this afternoon and buried everything again.  I didn’t realize I would have to do quite this much shoveling, but I’ll certainly get back in shape this way.  I wish I wouldn’t huff and puff so.

December 15:  20 inches forecast.  Sold my van and bought a 4×4 Blazer.  Bought snow tires for the wife’s car and two extra shovels.  Stocked the freezer.   The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out.  I think that’s silly.  We aren’t in Alaska , after all.

December 16:   Ice storm this morning.  Fell on my ass on the ice in the driveway putting down salt..  Hurt like hell.  The wife laughed for an hour, which I think was very cruel.

December 17:  Still way below freezing.  Roads are too icy to go anywhere.  Electricity was off for five hours.  I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm.  Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to irritate her.  Guess I should’ve bought a wood stove, but won’t admit it to her. I hate it when she’s right.  I can’t believe I’m freezing to death in my own living room.

December 20:  Electricity’s back on, but had another 14″ of the damn stuff last night.  More shoveling.  Took all day.  Damn snowplow came by twice.  Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but they said they’re too busy playing hockey.  I think they’re lying.  Called the only hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower, and they’re out.  Might have another shipment in March.  I think they’re lying.  Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me.  I think he’s lying.

December 22:  Bob was right about a white Christmas, because 13 more inches of the white shit fell today, and it’s so cold it probably won’t melt ’til August.  Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel, and then I had to piss.  By the time I got undressed, pissed and dressed again, I was too tired to shovel!  Tried to hire Bob, who has a plow on his truck, for the rest of the winter; but he says he’s too busy.  I think the asshole is lying.

December 23:  Only 2″ of snow today, and it warmed up to “0”.  The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning.  What, is she nuts!!!  Why didn’t she tell me to do that a month ago?   She says she did, but I think she’s lying.

December 24:  6″..  Snow packed so hard by snowplow, I broke the shovel.  Thought I was having a heart attack.  If I ever catch the son-of-a-bitch who drives that snowplow, I’ll drag him through the snow by his balls and beat him to death with my broken shovel.  I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling and then he comes down the street at a 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over everywhere I’ve just been!  Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was too busy watching for the damn snowplow.

December 25:  Merry fucking Christmas.  20 more inches of the fucking slop tonight.  Snowed in.  The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil.  God, I hate the snow!  Then the snowplow driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel.  The wife says I have a bad attitude.  I think she’s a fricking idiot.  If I have to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” one more time, I’m going to stuff her into the microwave.

December 26:  Still snowed in.   Why the hell did I ever move here?  It was all HER idea.  She’s really getting on my nerves. 

December 27:  Temperature dropped to -30, and the pipes froze.  Plumber came after 14 hours of waiting for him; he only charged me $1,400 to replace all my pipes.

December 28:  Warmed up to above -50.  Still snowed in.  The BITCH is driving me crazy!!!!!

December 29:  10 more inches.  Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in.  That’s the silliest thing I ever heard.  How dumb does he think I am?

December 30:  Roof caved in.  I beat up the snow plow driver.  He is now suing me for a million dollars; not for only the beating I gave him, but also for trying to shove the broken snow shovel up his ass.  The wife went home to her mother.  9″ predicted.

December 31:  I set fire to what’s left of the house.  No more shoveling.

January 8:  Feel so good.  I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. 

Why am I tied to the bed?

Thanks Sasquatch!  Laughed my ass off!

.

Nobody is a virgin anymore, life has fucked us all.

There was an old man from Australia,
Who painted his arse like a dahlia. 
The colors were fine,
Likewise the design,
The aroma, alas, was a failure.

What     the     hell?

One day at lunch several guys were engaged in a little friendly bragging about their sexual prowess and the dimensions of their members.

First one, then the next would add his own exaggerations until the whole thing became quite ridiculous.

Then Bill said matter of factly “mine’s about four inches.”

There was stunned silence before one of the guys said, “Bill, you’re kidding right?”

“Not at all, four inches.” He said, with perfect sincerity. “You know, some women like it.”

We all sat in embarrassed silence until Bill continued, “Of course, others complain that’s just too wide.”

Breaking News:  CDC changes quarantine duration guidelines to “Whatever you think sounds fair.”

Wouldn’t it be funny to secretly place a sex toy in someone else’s yard sale, then stand back and watch the reactions?!

At the risk of repeating myself … What     the     hell?

Everyday I understand the phrase, “I’m getting too old for this shit” on an even deeper level.

And that’s it for this one my friends.  Not as much of me in this one as I had  hoped, but I hope there was laughter enough for you.  Love and happiness to you all.  Until next time.

 

Good Morning Campers, 

BLUF:  Mrs. Dragon is doing much better, thank you very much.  And I truly appreciate the kind words that have been sent our way.  She is home.  We had the oxygen guy come by today and give us a somewhat permanent home oxygen supply.  Not sure how long we’re going to have that, but as far as I’m concerned, she can have it as long as she needs it.  Her O2 levels were, in official medical parlance, really crappy.  But, like I said, she is better now.  Not good, not yet, but better. 

And after 30 years of government service, I just recently figured out what BLUF stands for.  I’ve seen it in emails for years and years and could never figure out what it meant.  It means: Bottom Line Up Front.  Stupid, but effective.  The acronym, not the concept.  Only the government would need an acronym to overstate the obvious.   

And now it’s 2022.  I’d say it can’t be any worse than 2021, but when we said that about 2020, 2021 ended up taking that as a fucking challenge and proving us wrong.  So we are NOT going to throw that out there.  Is everyone paying attention? 
WE ARE NOT GOING TO PUT THAT OUT INTO THE WORLD!!! 
Instead, we are going to look forward to turning over a new leaf. 
A new year. 
A new beginning. 
Sunshine, butterflies, and fucking puppy dogs! 
Everybody clear! 
Good!

Okay, so we are now moving on to the laughter portion of our show.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to get an entire episode done before Saturday.  You’ll get an episode…just how much of an episode depends on how busy the rest of the family keeps me over the next day.  So, let’s see how it goes.

I turned off the TV today and made my kids play board games like it was 1955 and now I know why all our grandparents were alcoholics.

I don’t procrastinate.  I wait until the last minute to do things, because I will be older, and therefore wiser.

Me:  I’m still tired from all the CrossFit this morning.  

My co-worker:  It’s pronounced “croissant” and you ate four of them.

 

I’ve found that nowadays most people don’t like holding hands in public. 

Especially if you don’t know them…

I know how that poor guy feels.  You could relabel that 2021 and Impish Dragon and it would be perfect.

Not THIS dragon’s treasure, obviously.  That would solve too many damn problems.

I’M A
Wooden Spoon
Lead Paint
No Car Seat
No Seat Belt
No Bike Helmet
Bed of Pickup Riding
Garden Hose Drinking 
SURVIVOR

I paid my teenager $10 to do the dishes. 
Then on his way to the bathroom, I mugged him because it’s my job to teach him life lessons.

Who would’ve thought one day we’d be smoking weed at a family gathering, but the illegal part would be the family gathering.

Come on!  We’re all going to Hooters!  I’m buying!

Cashier:  Your total is $18.53  

Me: [gives cashier $20.53]  

Cashier:  [blank stare for 45 seconds…stuck]  

Me:  Just give me $5 back…  

Cashier:  That’s what I thought it was…just had to make sure…Here you go.

As far as I’m concerned, that’s a life lesson and the cashier deserves everything they get.

You might be a Redneck if you use bubble-wrap under your front doormat as your alarm system…

Okay, so for those of you who don’t read the comments, let’s share here…

So MANY of you kids won’t get that one.  Here, I’ll help you out…

Oh…by the way…Impish’s favorite band of all time.  Seen them live like 8 times.

My wife is blaming me for ruining her birthday.  That’s ridiculous, I didn’t even know it was her birthday.

People with multiple personalities should donate one of them to people who don’t have one.

Irony is when someone writes, “Your an idiot.”

 

How about a little more…

I swallowed a dictionary.  It gave me thesaurus throat I’ve ever had.

Yeah…no shit.  This one owes out his ass, is suffering out his ass, I want to know where the fuck MY WHITE PRIVILEGE is???!!!

 

Well, it’s California.  He IS the only one in the picture comitting a felony.

Fucking perfect!

Boy, ain’t that the truth.  My favorite author, Robert Heinlein, once wrote something to the effect that writing is easy, just sit down behind a typewriter and open a vein.  I have agonized over a paragraph as much as I have over a child.  The correct word, in the correct spot, in the correct sentence, can make all the difference in an entire piece.  Oh, and the part about The Elements of Style is not a bad idea, either.

Without Freedom of Speech we would not know who the idiots are.

No matter how long you have traveled in the wrong direction, you can always turn around.

The most terrifying moment in life is when the toilet refuses to flush at someone else’s house.

 

‘Tis a very sad day today…and this should tell you everything you need to know …

Good Morning Campers, 

Okay,  I am worn the hell out.  Mrs. Dragon is still really sick and I’m working on negative sleep.  I’m so glad that Christmas is over.  Not that it was much of anything around here, but just for the fact that things can start to go back to normal around here.  I’m so ready for normalcy.  I don’t think I even know what that word means.  But, I’m ready for it.  But, I do know that I need some laughter in my life and I’m counting on you guys to deliver.  So come on.  send that stuff in.  Now, on Christmas, I gave you my version of this lovely old poem and about the same time, Dave sent me this one:

Word press wouldn’t recognize my comment so, here it is in long form.
Politically Correct Version of “Twas the Night Before Christmas”

Twas the night before a non-denominational or denominational celebratory day, when all through the residential dwelling, either rented or owned,
not a creature was stirring, not even an evolution-advanced, sentient, small furry species that must be respected.

The hosiery which may be worn by any person regardless of gender (or gender identity) was hung (in a gentle manner using recyclable materials) by the chimney with care,
in hopes that a follically gifted person of enhanced girth soon would be there.

The younger but equally valuable members of the family who may or may not be biologically related to the head of household were nestled (most respectfully and without the possibility of physical discipline) all snug in their beds,
while non-drug induced and age-appropriate visions of organic fruit danced in the most non-suggestive manner in their heads.

And the female, male or transgendered head of household in his/her kerchief/cap/headwear of choice, and I in my kerchief/cap/headwear of choice,
had just settled down for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn/sidewalk/street/space not enclosed by walls, to respect those who cannot afford lawns or who may be homeless, which is a tragic condition that should not be judged– there arose such a noise of undeterminable origin,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash, not produced by any incendiary device,
threw open the shutters and threw up the sash.
* The moon on the portion of female anatomy that cannot be said on the radio or television due to FCC restrictions of the new fallen snow,
gave a luster of midday to objects below.

When what to my wondering eyes, or other means of sensing, should appear, or emerge, but a mode of environmentally friendly transportation of compact stature that does not contribute to the world wide concern of global warming, nor uses unreplenishable fossil fuels, and eight tiny hoofed animals that should never be hunted for sport.

With a senior citizen driver of a vertically challenged disposition, so lively and quick, not meaning to imply that senior citizen drivers of a vertically challenged disposition are not normally lively and quick…I knew in a moment it must be the follically gifted person of enhanced girth previously mentioned above—but of no denominational significance.

More rapid than an avian species that is protected under federal law, his coursers they came, and he whistled, because he was genetically predisposed to whistle, and shouted, but not in an aggressive manner, and called them by name.

Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer, and Vixen, on Comet on Cupid, on Donder and Blitzen! (The folically gifted person of enhanced girth did not mean to call these hoofed animals that should never be hunted for sport by any value-laden or gender specific name as all reindeer, regardless of gender, are provided equal opportunity.)

To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall or other point on land that could be viewed by anyone either with or without a home…now dash away, dash away, dash away all! And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof, or any other point of a building within view of anyone either with or without a home, the prancing and pawing of each little hoof…

As I drew in my hand, or prosthesis, whichever applies, and was turning around…down the chimney the follically gifted person of enhanced girth came with a bound. He was dressed in an outfit that was comprised of a fur-like material made of hemp from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with non-tobacco ashes, and soot.

A bundle of toys or educational items he had flung on his back and he looked like a entrepreneurial retailer as he opened his pack. His eyes how they twinkled, his genetically inherited facial features how merry, his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry. His droll little mouth drawn up like a bow, and the facial hair on his face was as lacking in pigment as the snow or other type of precipitation, depending on the climate.

(((The next lines are omitted because of references to smoking and tobacco products without regard to the concern over second-hand smoke which would set a bad example for children.)))

(((Again, the next lines must be omitted because of value-laden and biogted references to people of enhanced abdominal girth.))) … a wink of his eye, not meaning to imply anything sexual or inappropriate and a twist of his head, soon gave me to know I had
nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, nor signed to the hearing impaired any indication he was trying to communicate, but went straight to his hourly or salaried union-contracted position recently negotiated and agreed upon by all parties, and filled the hosiery which may be worn by any person regardless of gender and washed in a gentle manner using only recyclable materials, then turned with a jerk (which may or may not be grounds for a workman’s comp claim).

And laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his mode of environmentally friendly transportation of compact stature that does not contribute to the world wide concern of global warming, nor uses unreplenishable fossil fuels and to his team gave a whistle… And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, or sign to the hearing impaired as he drove, soberly, out of sight….

Happy non-denominational or denominational celebratory day to all…and to all a good night!

And I think that was just absolutely marvelous! And at the same time, my little brother, who still has connections in the military community, sent me these two highly classified pictures:

 

And did you see where the idiot Hayes Brown, an MSNBC Opinion Columnist (that right there ought to tell you everything you need to know) thinks that NORAD’s Christmas Eve Santa tracker needs to stop?  That Christmas and the military have no place being connected to each other.  What a fucking moron.  I’ll bet you kneel for the playing of the National Anthem.  The military is about honor, self-sacrifice, giving to others (up to and including your own life)…Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Christ, who epitomized all of those traits.  And Santa is a fun tradition for Children to bring them into the spirit of giving and receiving in love.  If you can’t see how they are all intertwined then you are missing the point.  I was going to put the link to his article, but screw it, it’s not worth giving the idiot any more time than I already have.  Calling him out by name and shaming him here is more than enough.

We also had our normal amount of shooting and deaths and such over Christmas.  You’d think there’d be one day a year where we’d be able to go without stupid shit happening.  People of the earth, you amaze me, and not in a good way.  That’s why we need Dragon Laffs and you campers so very much.  To pass the word to every one far and wide that the only way to get through this life is with laughter.  Maybe…just maybe…if we all laugh together, we’d all get along together. 

So, what do you say we give it a try again right now, shall we?

This next one is from Aussie Pete.  And we can definitely sympathize: 

The never ending dragon oribis giving meaning to all life and … yeah, okay, so it’s BS but a beautiful picture. 

Could be used against rioters, looters, politicians who don’t keep their promises…

No kidding.  But, I guess it beats the hell out of the alternative.

Well, big changes since I started this issue a few days ago.  I’m not even sure where to start.  I guess, first of all, I’m sorry for missing the Monday deadline, but you’ll understand when I explain it.  This is hard.  My poor Mrs. Dragon is in the hospital.  Yeah, she’s quite sick.  Turns out, on top of everything else that’s going on, she has COVID. 

I finally managed to talk her (dragged her) to the ER around 4 pm on Sunday.  Ran a bunch of tests because of her liver and heart conditions.  That is the one good thing about going to the same hospital over and over again, they have all of her records right there.   They knew she had COVID right away.  They did a test for that, for flu, and a bunch of other things.  Anyway, it was 6 am Monday morning before they finally got her a room.  That was the last time that I saw her.  Since she has COVID, no visitors. 

So, I wasn’t allowed to leave her ER room, cause if I did, I couldn’t go back in.   They used to have nice easy chairs in there, but have since replaced them all with hard plastic chairs that are easier to sanitize.  So, here I am, a diabetic dragon, haven’t had anything to eat since about noon on Sunday, it’s now 6 am on Monday.  No sleep, dozed a little bit, but who can really sleep on a hard plastic chair in the ER when they kept coming in to change IV bags and alarms were going off and people were screaming and … you get the picture.  It’s still dark outside, I’m a wreck and I have a half hour drive home. 
Boy, wasn’t THAT exciting. 
But I made it. 
Obviously. 

Gotta get a couple of hours sleep. 
Two. 
I got two hours of sleep before my brain woke me up and told me there was things I HAD to do.  And my phone was blowing up anyway with messages of friends and family that I had talked to the night before that had now gotten a good nights sleep and wanted to know the updates on Mrs. Dragon.  And it occurred to me that, even though we are vaccinated, Izzy Dragon and I needed to be tested.  I had no idea where to even go, since I’m now firing on about one cylinder.  Talked to the guy at work who’s covering the office and he offers to go and buy two at home kits. 
What a blessing. 
Yes please. 
Long story short, I’m positive and Izzy is negative.  Makes sense, I’ve been taking care of Mrs. Dragon hand and foot for the last 3 days or so when she’s been really sick and Izzy has either been at work or upstairs segregated in her part of the house.  (Mrs. Dragon and I live downstairs). 

I’m kinda asymptomatic.  Okay, really start thinking Impish.  This could be important.  You know how this little bastard works.  What is a symptom and what is exhaustion/stress/just you?  You need to call YOUR doctor, explain the situation, through yourself on her mercy and beg for help. So, around noon, I call the doctor’s office, leave a detailed message, clear, concise and wait.  In the meantime I call myself in to the base, gotta report all positive cases.  The proper people call me back and quarantine me officially. 

Mrs. Dragon calls and says they may release her with drugs, oxygen and some other stuff.  But, she won’t know until later.  They are trying to arrange the oxygen supply.  WOW!  I’m amazed.  I haven’t even dropped stuff off to her yet.  No phone charger, no glasses.  So, now I’m planning on dropping stuff off and picking her up cause it could go both ways. 

Time goes by. 

Around 530 pm I get a ping from my pharmacy that they are filling a script for me that I’ve never seen before.  Ah!  My doctor is getting around to my phone call.  Timing is right, her office hours end at 5.  About ten minutes later my phone rings, it’s my doctor’s nurse.  She says that she’s sorry, but my doctor is not in today and she’s been playing phone tag all afternoon with her (my doctor) and another doctor and here’s what they want me to do…  She’s so cool.  The one prescription medicine was a monster cough, deep lung type thing, but then she also said: 
150 Vitamin C (already have it!  Just jack up the dosage) 
1000 – 2000 Vitamin D3 (already have it!  Thanks Friggin’ Pete! Long story, but He knows!) 
50 Zinc (damn.  Don’t have that one) 
Seems like there was something else, too that I was already taking.  Anyway.  Just jack up some of the stuff I was already taking.  Add the one prescription and the zinc  and I was good to go.  Oh and eat and sleep and stuff like that. 

So, pick up the meds at the drive thru and they were kind enough to pull the zinc off the shelf and give me that through the drive thru and go from there to drop the stuff off at the hospital to Mrs. Dragon and the phone rings while I’m driving.  And before I get any lectures, I have hands-free stuff in the car.  And yes, for those of you doing the math, I’m now going on about 48 hours with only about 2 hours sleep, plus intermittent naps…and it’s dark out again.  I bring that up over and over because this is northern Indiana.  When it gets dark, it gets friggin’ DARK.  And the damn suicidal deer come out.  Not to mention the despondent racoons, the pessimistic rabbits, and the rest of the depressed wildlife. 

Anyway, as I was saying, the phone rings and it’s Mrs. Dragon and she tells me that they’ve decided they are going to keep her for 5 days, at least, because her oxygen levels have dropped. 
Impish swerves slightly to keep the car on the road. 
How badly have they dropped? asks Impish. 
Not that bad, but bad enough that they want to keep me. 
Okay, well I guess that I’m just dropping stuff off then and not picking stuff up. 
Some I’m just stuff? 
Yeah, just some old stuff. 
Bastard! 
Yeah, but you love me anyway…and the rest is too husband and wifey for the rest of you guys.  And that’s pretty much where we are now. 

Except, I just now got off the phone with Mrs. Dragon.  (9 am Tuesday morning) She’s doing better.  And it’s just as well that she is staying in the hospital.  They let slip that she has viral and bacterial pneumonia as part of her COVID.  I told her she was a wreck and I was trading her in for a younger model.  She told me to go to hell and she was going home with the hot nurse that was taking care of her and I heard a guy chuckle in the background and say in a low voice, “yeah, you tell him.” So, it sounds like she’s being well taken care of.  She makes friends WHEREVER she goes. 

It is truly amazing to me.  Anyway, so good news there.  And maybe the whole reason my surgery was cancelled, which, if you remember, was scheduled for yesterday…the exact same time Mrs. Dragon was being admitted to the hospital…was because God knew I was going to be a bit busy doing other things.  There is always a plan. 

Now, I’m sitting on my ass, and ready to freak the fuck out, so let’s put some more laughter out there that I’m sure more of us than just me can use.          

Rap is like scissors — it always loses to rock.

We get all of the best girl bands to play at our parties.

Mrs. Dragon’s Poster

I HATE having a messy house. 

Not enough to actually clean it.  But enough to give it a really disgusted stare from my seat on the couch.

One minute you are young and carefree and the next minute your kids are asking for help with their history homework because you were alive in the nineteen hundreds.

Counterfeiters: Workers who put kitchen cabinets together.

There was a brief time in the early 90s where you could pull up to someone at a red light and ask for Mustard.

He asked me why the house isn’t clean because I’m home all day. 

I asked him why we aren’t rich since he works all day.

Pro Tip #22:  Ring your doorbell on your way to bed.  This will clear the dogs off of the bed just long enough for you to get comfortable.

 

There needs to be more judges like this one.  Because there are an awful lot of GIs out there with PTSD who are suffering in a lot of different ways.  Way to go judge!  Thanks to Ted for sharing this with the rest of us.

Wow!  Special thanks to Sasquatch for sending this one in.  All I can say is … WOW!  Barney Miller.  You gotta click on this one, campers.  Talk about a crystal ball! 

Remember that sit-com back in the 70’s.

Even then, some writers were wise beyond their years ,,but it was discounted, by most, just like Archie Bunker.  Just a couple of entertaining Wackos  BTW ,,  Gasoline was how much under Carter?  My son tells me its over $5 in the Chicago area

https://media.gab.com/system/media_attachments/files/086/220/357/original/6dafaea13ca48e80.mp4

 

Okay, so I’m going to end on a positive note.  Of sorts.  Mrs. Dragon was released from the hospital last night.  Of course, late last night.  She was sent home with medication and oxygen.  With the expectation that I would be able to take care of her.  The problem is, that I’ve gotten a little worse.  I’m hoping it’s because the medication the doctor put me on is kicking my ass a little bit because I can’t afford to be down right now.  She doesn’t know that I’m feeling down, so you guys don’t tell her, okay?  Okay, time frame check.  Right now it’s Wednesday morning, so last night would have been Tuesday night.  So, I’m getting ready to have this set up to post on Thursday on it’s normal date and hopefully there won’t be any more extreme updates between now and then.  I know this issue was full of ups and downs, trust me when I tell you that living through them was as exciting or more so than posting about them. 

Well, that’s it.  I’m almost afraid to post this for fear that something else is going to happen, but I’ve got to get this out there, so Love and happiness to you all.