Social Engineering and... SQUIRREL!

First off... Social Engineering.

Since I changed my domain name back to something legible/normal, my hit rate has gone way up.

Does this mean the readership has also risen?

I doubt it.

The main post that's always hit is "She's thinking about taking down her channel!!"

Now, when I wrote that post, it wasn't an attempt to get hits, so I bet the perverts out there only saw "She's thinking about taking down her..."

Social engineering is fun to think about and play with.

Basically, you figure out the best way to get people to pay attention.  Like advertising.

In my line of work as developer and before that IT security, many virus/worm writers use catchy titles & what not to tempt people into clicking on their files.

Getting to... SQUIRREL!...

Today, I am torn in several directions and it doesn't help that I'm having trouble concentrating.

My bed frame is also done with the construction part, and really needs to have the final finish applied to it several times between now and Friday morning.

Saturday they're delivering my new mattress! (w00t!)

So, on Friday night or Saturday morning, Ellie and I or a friend will need to move the frame into our bedroom and put it together.

It'll be really easy to do... (SQUIRREL!)

I designed the frame in halves.

Once it's in the bedroom, I need to align the halves, put the screws in to hold the halves together,

Then lay down the top boards, screw them in and finally put on the mattress!

I'm stoked...

Hopefully, as expected, I'll sleep REALLY, REALLY good on Saturday night... unless I have manic/insomnia issues...

Happy talkie???

After all the mess of yesterday, I starting thinking that perhaps I should find a counselor that specializes with Bipolar people.

The one I had been seeing is a very nice and decent person, however...

She seemed a little too sensitive to the raw language that would slip out.

Not to mention that she wasn't sure how to help or talk to a person about bipolar so well.

Unfortunately these days, a psychiatrist and psychologist aren't the same.

The psychiatrist will usually get an idea WTF is going on, then just prescribe your meds.

While the psychologist will talk to you, understand WTF is going on, and leave the meds alone.

So, the psychologist/counselor I had been seeing I don't think will work for what I need.

Today, I haven't felt like I need anything special to help me.

I suppose, if I was one of those ganja guys, I would probably smoke a lot on those days I was having a REALLY hard time, and not touch it the other days.

That type of mentality bothers me.

I mean... why use something like that heavily because of the mental state..

Although, I can understand why people self medicate, as it's VERY hard to deal with things at times.

I guess that I don't use drugs or alcohol... I eat... Usually.

Sometimes I put thin cuts on my forearms.

I find when things get away from me...

I want to start scratching myself or pulling my hair.

That's why a cut or two doesn't seem too bad.

It's just hard to describe except that it's uncontrollable for a LOT of people.

Holy recap Batman!

I don't know exactly why I started going through my original blog entries.

It seems that I started by correcting spelling and formatting mistakes/problems.

However, reading through the entries, I come to realize how different my life and attitude are these days.

My original entries seemed very centered on all of my woes, which seemed very numerous and insurmountable.

These things still hurt like hell, except for my mental state.

Perhaps its that I've gotten "stronger", and stable.

I can't really point to any defining "ah-hah" moment like I did for the discovering of my Bipolar prognosis.

It does feel like I've been changing for the better.

Unlike back when I started this blog, I don't walk the dogs, nor do I actually go for walks anymore.

The knee brace I was so happy for, turned out to not really help me.

I just now realized a defining moment for the pain control was when my friend got me to use Homeopathic medication/solutions.

My goal is still to be able to walk and move like I used to.

The gout has damaged my feet pretty damn good though.

Between the gout and arthritis I realized and accepted that I need help to move.

Even walking around the house hurts, but I manage to make it.

Recently, I've been building a bed frame for our new mattress, and it's been quite a lot of work.

When I work in the shop on this project, I have been wearing my shoes again.

I found that, by switching my insoles back to the original ones, that my feet don't hurt so bad wearing shoes.

My feet do hurt like hell when I'm done, but it's not so bad as it was when I was wearing the doctor suggested insoles.

The last time I wore shoes with those insoles (for maybe 4 hours), my feet hurt for over a week like I had been standing on hard rubber balls every day for several hours at a time.

Re-involving myself HAM radio has been a real blessing.

My inventiveness and interest in things has really gone up again!

I wish that I could get back into computers and programming like that again!

Previously, I was so absorbed in programming that I did it ALL the time.  Even when I got home from work and on holidays.

Although, I didn't do that since meeting Ellie, but I am starting to feel the draw to getting my ass motivated to become really innovated again!

"I bent my wookie." -Ralph Wiggum

I got up this morning after 2:00 AM with severe sinus pain.

After a while of moving around, I slept until 3:00 AM.

At that point, I crawled into a super hot bad and soaked.

It seemed to help a bit, but it's still giving me trouble.

I ralphed a bit... but not enough to "feel better"...

You know where you're not feeling good, but a good puke makes you start to "feel better?"

I have been trying to work for a bit, but still feel like shit.

My right ear and sinuses hurt like hell, so I made a pot of soup.

That seemed to help, but solve the problem.

So I'm going to just take the day as a paid day off.

I want to feel as good as I can later on.

My wife's oldest nephew is having a farewell party tonight before he leaves for Marine boot camp.

I love this kid more than my oldest, bratty ass daughter.

He's more of a son to me than she is a daughter.

Now Big Miss, is not "Large Miss".

Big Miss, is my middle daughter and just a sweetheart of a girl. :)

So is Little Miss, although, I spoil Little Miss a bit more.

Actually, I spoil both of them quite a bit.

Well, I'm off to find somewhere to relax and feel better.

God Be With You.

Here we go again? again...

I wonder if I'm not in some sort of a Bipolar cycle.

Previously I described a "Bipolar Episode" that I had yesterday.

Now, I feel like I'm going through that again today.

I like this time of the year, with everything starting to grow, the days getting longer, and the general weather changes...

BUT
(Wow, that's one huge but!)

For weeks now, when it's not been in the 70's or so, the house is pretty damn cold/cool.

Ellie thinks that the heat should be off all the time, except at night, when needed.

This would be OK if no one was HERE!

Holy shit... it's pretty damn cold in here.

Thank goodness when we refinanced the house several years ago, they insisted that we install heaters in all the rooms of the house, even though they don't typically need the heat.

For the past several months, I've been running the heater in my office long enough for the house to warm up when the curtains are open and the sun warms it up.

Off/on for the last week or two, this hasn't happened until the end of my work day.

So I spend a large part of my day with my office doors closed and this wall heater turned on.

This wall heater only uses about 400watts an hour, which really isn't much and is LOWER than a traditional electrical heater.

Since today is Wednesday, I'm going to pick up Big Miss from school, as it's an early release day.

I enjoy the hour or so that she and I have by ourselves, when no one else is here.

Often we go get an ice cream cone or a milk shake on the way home.  Usually once a month.

Well, cycling back around to another episode, it feels like it's happening again, but without all the adrenaline rushing through my body.

It feels more like a sugar/caffeine rush.

This isn't necessarily surprising though.

I had a bowl of ice cream with butterscotch topping and several no-doze.

Crap on a Crayola Dude!

Maybe it's not a good thing... I realized I am going back into that cycle I did several years ago.

Daily fucking bowl of ice cream...

I wish the ice cream wasn't here, but it is here.

The other day, I got quite a bit depressed thinking about a situation that happened in 1998.

At the time, I was renting the upper duplex of a house owned by a "friend".

His folks were visiting and he wanted to show them the upstairs apartment, and he called me to ask if they could come up in 10 minutes.

Well, I was doing some one handed web surfing and I didn't hear them come up less than 5 minutes later.

So what does this guy do?

He goes back downstairs, and calls on the phone with some sort of fucking crazy ass story about a dog running down the street with a bunch of KY jelly dripping down his fucking leg.

What bothers me is this.  The fucker didn't stick to the time he said he was going to come up.  Then he was also a phone mental health counselor, and he acted like a fucking moron.  You'd figure the bastard would have the decency to realize a person might need help instead of being "funny"...  What a fuck head.

You've gotta get up close like this and - bada-BING!...

Yesterday was a nasty day for me.

Emotionally.

It was drawing too much power to yourself without being able to release it.

Before I had problems with my legs and feet, I used to walk off any sort of extra built up adrenaline, calm down and then get back to life.

Yesterday, I couldn't do that.

I went out to the shop, started planning out how to finish the bed frame.

After sorting through the wood scraps I had, I cut several pieces to the size that I needed them.

Getting tired of trying that, I put another heavy coat of verathane on things.

I was feeling very tired by that time, but I couldn't release this pent up energy.

So I put everything away, and watched the rest of the House episodes on the disc I got from Netflix.

Sometime during that ordeal, I decided to take a Seroquel, and felt after a bit that my blood pressure was dropping, so I swallowed about a tablespoon of salt.

After House, I went and laid down and fell to sleep for maybe 3-4 hours.

Ellie seemed pissed later on, but it turns out that she figured I was being lazy, not that I was having a really bad emotional problem/episode.

Might as well call this what it is... an episode.

I don't like the idea of calling these things "Bipolar Episodes".

Many others have "crazy/abnormal" episodes too, and they're not Bipolar.  In fact, many of these folks claim to be "normal" or don't have any "problems".

Ellie is one of those, so fuck it.

Since those of us who are Bipolar, we're officially diagnosed, thus we're having unexplained "episodes" and we're bat-shit crazy.

For me, getting the official Bipolar diagnosis was the greatest day for me!

It meant that I could finally get the medical help that I really needed.

Perhaps you don't have any idea what it's like to go through part of your life, knowing something is "off", but no idea what it is, nor what to do about it.

I guess I'll add another Label to my blog... "Episode".

It's the only real description that I can add for others to start understanding when shit like I went through happens.

Luke... Let the adrenline flow through you...

Well, I just got another call from the "Windows" support people who told me a computer in my house is infected.

I kept telling them that I had a Windows 3.1 with DOS 6.2 computer here with a 14.4 modem attached.

Then I asked if he knew which computer in my house was infected.

I asked if he knew which computer because I know my Linux firewall won't let people see which computers are connected through the NAT configuration.

An IT guy can see lots of connections being made and could probably figure out that the connection from a firewall/server using NAT. (Network Address Translation)

This configuration only shows one IP address on the network, and the others can only see each other and out of the firewall, but others outside of the firewall don't know one computer's IP address from the firewall's IP address.

The guy on the phone kept telling me my computer is infected and I kept asking how many computers are in my house, if he knew so much.

I asked him which IP address and computer names were being reported.

He couldn't answer my question.

When I told him I worked for one of the world's largest cyber security companies and I also worked with the Department of Defense / Military computers, he only seemed to get more pissed.

So, I started to swear at him.

I mean, REALLY swear at him.

F-Bombs, Mother F-Bomb, pussy, bastard, etc.

It'd have made my cowboy grandfather proud with my swearing... I expect.

It was his native language after all.

ooga ooga ooga chaka, ooga ooga ooga chaka... I'm hooked on a.... damn lactose...

Why is it in our society that almost EVERYTHING that tastes so good has milk in it?

Seriously!

• Ice Cream
• My favorite substance with milk.
• Although the cheap crap I usually buy might not have much actual milk.  Like a McDonald's Milkshake.
• Chocolate No-Bake cookies
• Believe it or not! I've seen these also called "Rhino Poops"!
• I suppose if I was a rhino eating oatmeal, my shit would look like these cookies too.
•  "Amish" friendship bread.
• I don't personally know any Amish.
• Yet, I really doubt their recipes would actually include milk and boxed pudding!
• Ellie and the Misses like to make this.
• It's delicious!
• Unfortunately for me, the baking process doesn't really bake out enough of the lactose.

 If I forget what I'm eating, then I remember...

I definitely remember, when I'm shitting myself inside out.

The flip-side of  this coin, is when I can't crap.

This morning before Ellie left for work, she said she'd been on/off the shitter since she got up.

I suggested using the arsenicum album stuff I got from the homeopathic store.

My experience using too much:

Like being in prison without a chance of parole.

The shit just won't be released!

Perhaps Pharaoh was Lactose intolerant?

Until Moses came along with some milk, he must've been constipated with Israelis.

He just couldn't let them go!

ooga ooga chaka, ooga ooga chaka... I'm hooked on a.... damn lactose...

WTF?

I hate the way emotional stuff goes.

All fucking day I'm tired as fucking hell.

So much so, that I sat in the couch for a few moments and wound up napping for a while.

Now that I'm trying to take an actual nap I'm not tired at all.

In fact I feel fucking wired now!

Oh fucking hell.

I'm going out to work on the fucking bed frame.

What the hell are you doing in the bathroom all day and night? Give someone else a chance!

Today must be a Young Frankenstein day.

This is the second time I've quoted the movie.

I noticed that I've got a crap load of visitors on my blog today.

Am I really that popular?

Or is it perhaps that my little sister is bored enough and she's reading through all of my posts?

I've only recently given my sister my blog address, and had her promise not to share it.

For several reasons.

1. My swearing.
• This isn't surprising for her though.
• The rest of the family might object to it.
2. How I talk about my brothers and the rest of the family.
3. My views on church and religion.
4. Just general bullshit and anonymity.

 I know the rest of the family, brothers & parents, use the hell out of Facebook and I don't.

This means I would rather not have them knowing my thoughts, then talking behind my back on Facebook.

So I figured to hell with them.

After all, bipolar isn't a "group" problem to deal with.

It is very personal, even if you have bipolar friends who can relate.

Only you can cope with bipolar symptoms, moods, episodes and occasionally other people can help out.

Back when I was about to get a tattoo Ellie still credits herself to helping me to stop.

She didn't influence the manic episode to end.  She actually enabled me to go get the tattoo.

It was later on that night, that I finally started coming down off of that manic episode.

I found that it's VERY hard to get Ellie to shut-up enough and listen that it wasn't her decisions that affected me.

Oh well, I suppose it's better for her to feel that she was a help than no influence at all.

What a filthy job... Could be worse... How? It could be raining...

I doubt it'll rain today or tomorrow.

It's supposed to be almost 80 degrees today!

In the middle of April in the northwestern states, it's supposed to be close to 80!

I don't necessarily mind.

Having nice weather usually helps those with mental health problems feel better.

In my city, there's a small mental health hospital/clinic. (My city has about 10,000 people in it.)

Probably everyone involved there have really bad problems, which is why they're staying at the clinic.

For the most part, you can tell which one they are.  Usually they're the ones wandering around muttering to themselves, or walking partially sidewise down the street.

One of the guys walks straight down the street, with his head turned sideways.  Like he's eyeballing everyone he looks at.

Over the weekend, Ellie and I were working on our bed frame.

After all of that work, to my surprise, I don't hurt as bad as I thought I would.

Yesterday, it did hurt a bit more than I was used to, but we continued to work on it.

We're at the part of putting the front & back panels on the bed frame, and I need to design and install the drawer boxes/shelves in the bed.

Even if the drawers aren't done by the time we have it delivered, we don't need to worry about a cat crawling under the bed and leaving a mess or just causing general havoc.

Then we just keep slathering on coat after coat of finish all over it.

The only problem that I personally ran into was getting a splinter the size of a tooth pick jammed into the base of my index finger.

Luckily it was a surface splinter and I didn't have to cut too far down with my pocket knife to get it out.

It was a tough little bastard to pull out though.

I had to cut more skin that I'd like to have cut so that I could get it far enough up to get my teeth on it to pull it out.

Today it hurts pretty good, but I expect that with how big it was and how much I had to cut to get it out.

Good thing I keep my pocket knives pretty damn sharp!

The Lord of Crumpets is Feeling Grumpy...

The title is from a Bloom County comic strip.
BTW, the site for the comic strip thinks they can stop someone from grabbing an image... It's impossible.  You just need to know how your browser works to start off with.  Then knowing how the OS & browser work together also helps.
I'm not pirating or doing anything illegal.  If you can see it in the first place, then you can save it.  It's just that the web developers & what not, think they're protecting things...

when in fact, they're just stopping the 99.9% of people who don't know how things really work.

I bet many of them don't.

The kid in the picture is a caricature of Prince William.. :)


Well, I'm not totally grumpy today.

When I'm a bit grumpy/pissy I always remember that comic strip, even though that was published in 1982.

That's 23 years from today...

wow...

I'm getting old...


Some have told me that I'm not "old yet"... but that doesn't mean that I always feel fucking chipper and happy.

It's like a I always have some sort of perpetual ailment everyday of the year anymore.

Early yesterday, I couldn't sleep.

Later in the day, my legs & feet really hurt.

Now, my feet really hurt bad again.


Yesterday, I returned the security screen doors for the correct size.

While I was out, I stopped by an electronics supply store only to be reamed of $25.00 for parts that used to cost me about $5.00 20 years ago!

I'm going to really start looking at Amazon for these parts.

Why Amazon?

Because its the only place I have my credit card registered at, aside from PayPal.

I don't like having my credit card on multiple sites.  It's too easy to forget which one is registered where if you keep doing it.  It also means there are MORE places that your credit card can be hacked at.

While Amazon isn't an electronics store, it's like a shopping mall.  It's a large place were stores can register and sell things.

Many of my coworkers and fellow hams order parts from other companies, but for the 1-6 items that I want at a time, that's not really a financially sound idea for me.

I'd rather spend $5.00 at time for half dozen things here and there than $20 + shipping for 3 dozen or more things.

Although, yesterday, I got in what I thought were typical 1/8" stereo jacks.

They are 1/8", but they're 4 ring jacks, not the traditional 3 ring stereo jacks.

Basically, these are what you find on the headset/earphones for cell phones.

It actually might mean I'll make a pass through jack for my headphones to work with another mic.

Anyhow...

I'm tired and really need to get back to work.

Here's WTF post for the day.

The early bird catches the worm.... but I don't like worms...

By now, if you've been following my blog, you know that I don't always sleep well for multiple reasons.

So far, this whole week has been very hard.

This morning is no different, as I got up about 2:45 AM took a VERY hot bath.

My body feels better for both being clean, but also for the pain relief afforded from the hot water.

Since I work from home, and almost completely independent of others, I started work at 3:30 AM.

I figured if I wasn't too tired after work, I was going to drive into the "big city" north of here.

We bought the wrong size security screen doors on Saturday, and due to the rain, I haven't been back to exchange them.

Also, I want to look for some small toggle switches and 1/8" stereo jacks to continue building my Morse code interface box for my Baofeng handheld radio.

I suppose I can create a picture with my own version of the schematic I based my design on.

Unlike some designs for a box like this, I'm going to use a push button on the interface box instead of a toggle switch.

The difference is to prevent an accidental key up and incidental broadcast when I don't want it.

With one hand, you push a button to open the mic, and the other hand runs the key/paddles.

I don't know enough about paddles to know if they'll work with an oscillator/tone generator that only works an on/off keying.

My version, I suppose, will only be geared towards a standard straight key.

Now that I'm thinking about the sleep problem...

Ellie noticed last night, when we were laying in bed and she was trying to unwind, I was still chatting it up and going a bit "nuts".

This is probably a very mild manic episode.

Well, I had better get back to work, so that I can show I'm doing things other than surfing the web and goofing off until everyone else gets online for work.

About my blog and posts I make.

I suffer with bipolar disorder.

It's obvious that I don't pull punches with my language or my thoughts.

This blog was created and written to for various moments if distress, insight, disasters, stress and times that I need to vent.

There are times that I should probably censor myself more.

Some posts might be made private...

Not removed...

This isn't written to push any political agenda.

This blog is written for my humor, venting, and basically for noting what happens involving my experiences with bipolar disorder.

After, if it wasn't for those vlogs I found several years ago, I wouldn't have whatever control I do have, over my bipolar symptoms.

I think I really was just "Bipolar pissed"...

When I get so pissed that I cannot really control myself, I call it "bipolar pissed".

Friday night, I wound up taking an entire Seroquel before the "movie" was over.  In the mean time, I also drove over to a McDonalds for a large chocolate milkshake.

Within an hour and a half, I was starting to feel calmed down and much better.

I don't know if I ever documented much of my original interaction with Seroquel. Sometime around 2003 or so.

My initial interaction started off "OK", but then one night/morning, I got up to go pee... While standing there, my legs buckled out from beneath me.

I have no idea if I actually finished going pee, or if I sprayed the entire bathroom or my pajamas.

Ellie heard me fall, and was freaking out, and all I wanted to do is stay on the floor and sleep for a while.

I've slept on the bathroom floor several times when I've had really bad headaches and I've been nauseated.

She insisted and kept persisting that I let her in and get up and back into bed.

Well, she did help me get dressed, so I imagined that I sprayed/peed all over my night clothes.  That or she wanted to make sure that I looked OK after she insisted on calling 911.

However, I didn't want her to call anyone, and I finally let her take my blood pressure.

It was down into double digits on both systolic and diastolic sides. (Like 80/50 or lower).

I finally let her call 911, and they picked me up and took me over to the ER.

When I got there, I told them to just give me some caffeine and salt, and let me sleep.  My blood pressure would go up on its own.

Well, I did sleep and I don't know what they gave me to get my blood pressure to go up.

I do remember that I was released, and Ellie brought me home.

Friday night, before bed, I took my pills as normal, including the regular Seroquel dose.

Saturday, I was tired in the morning, but got going OK, and things went pretty well.

Easter Sunday morning though...

Ellie got up around 7:00 AM or so to hide the eggs all over the downstairs for Little and Big miss to find when they woke up.

I couldn't wake up then.

When I heard everyone else awake, I still couldn't really wake up well and laid in bed, dozing in/out of consciousnesses.

Little Miss came in and put her hand on me for a bit until I realized someone was touching me.

I finally drug my ass out of bed, and one of the first things I remember doing, was taking my blood pressure.

It was 107/63.

That's pretty damn low for my normal/baseline.

The usual, is around 130/80 first thing in the morning.  In the afternoon around 3ish or so, it will go lower.

That explained why I was so tired.  Even Saturday morning I was really tired, but my blood pressure was close to my normal range.

I really don't think I'm going to take Seroquel anymore.

Since it's messing with my blood pressure so much, I'm going to just stick with Xanax for calming down my "Bipolar Pissed" time periods.

I do want to give a shout out to my little sister, who I started texting with.  She helped me out quite a bit.  We rely on each other for shit like this, and I really appreciate and love her.

It's my greatest hope that she doesn't have to deal with Bipolar Disorder in her life.

If she does, then I really hope she reaches out to me, and not the rest of our messed up brothers.

HEY, did you realize I didn't drop the F-BOMB once in today's post!?

He lives!

This is not a tribute to Mary Shelley or Bram Stoker...

For quite a number of years now, it seems, that the week or two before Easter, I start to feel very close to my Savior, Jesus Christ.

The last 2-3 years or more, instead of listening to my usual motley mess of music, I listen to music about the life, trials, death and resurrection of Christ.

One of the MP3s that I have is from Glenn Beck.

If you can find it, listen to it.

Usually, on Good Friday, the Friday before Easter, he plays this at some point in his show.

If you get a chance to listen to it, I hope that you enjoy it.

As for me, I will always be thankful for the sacrifice that God made for us of His Son, Jesus.

That Jesus willingly went through the trials so that we, wayward, and stubborn people could live and be redeemed of our sins.

Thank you...

I'm a Pepper. He's a pepper. She's a pepper. We're a pepper. Wouldn't you like to be a... ah fuck it.

I mean... ah hell.

It doesn't matter after all, but I thought it would mean more to what I'm about to rant on about today.

I weigh about 270 lbs.

The reaction of some people is to run and scream:

"OH HOLY SHIT!"

Although... when people actually see it on my 6'2"+ frame, it's not so apparent.

I know I'm overweight, but I don't feel overweight.

Right now, I still feel like the skinny dude I was before my legs got lamed and it got REALLY hard to walk.

According to the "doctors", I'm 100 lbs over weight.

It seems like a lot of weight, but when I think about it, when I was at 180-190 lbs, I was VERY skinny.

I fit into 34" waist jeans with room to spare.

Not lots of room, but enough room that they could sag a bit if I wasn't wearing a tucked in shirt.

I just now realized, that I fit into a 38" waist pair of jeans...

Now, I know that's a 4" difference, but it's only 2 sizes larger.  Not 4 sizes larger.

After all, to illustrate things more, I wear a belt that has to be synched up to keep my pants and shorts from falling!
WHY?
Because, I have strong, thick legs.

Even though, I don't walk very often anymore, I can still dead lift quite a bit of weight. 50-100lbs bags of concrete, dog food, etc.

Hell, I don't even want to be on the opposite side of my own kicks.

Many moons ago, and know I could kick hard then, but due to the light weight, I didn't have a wallop.  Now it'll be like kicking someone with my back against a brick wall.  I won't rebound much at all with the force of the kick.

Going back to the pants/shorts fitting, aside from the legs of them not fitting me very well, I also like to wear suspenders.

I really get tired of wearing a belt cinched up, so I like suspenders to keep my drawers up without a belt digging into my waist and gut.

Getting back to the original weight topic, it doesn't really help that I make good money these days, I own a car and that stores plentiful and close by.

So what I'm getting at, is that I just finished off an entire bag of peanut butter M&Ms.

Oh, BTW, that reminds me of a coworker who once messaged me that he was going to get some "MANDMs"... I had no fuckin' idea what he was talking about.. until I realize he meant M&Ms. 

Dumbass.

Well, WTF the "pepper" reference then, Mr. Dipshit blogger?

 I suppose,  it wasn't necessarily the need for a "Dr. Poo", but rather a reference that each of us is an addict of some sort.

For some of you it's alcohol, tobacco, drugs, pornography, soda, sugar/candy and food.

Now for me... I know that I have addict genes, and my siblings have proved this.

One of them, pretty much the one dumbass mother fucker, has such a bad addictive nature, he is addicted to pretty much everything. (Porn, tobacco, alcohol, prescription pain pills, beating off, etc. etc. etc.)

So, this proves that you can very addictive, without much choice....

HOWEVER!

This isn't really true.

We all have the ability to choose how we react to things.

For me, I use my prescription medications according to how they're labeled.

The exception to that, is when I might break them up when I have REALLY bad pain and I need relief immediately!

I stay away from alcohol, because the last time I had a drink, (basically a double tequila) I craved alcohol for several weeks, before the desire stopped.

Due to all the asshole prescription pain med. abusers out there, doctors and health insurance companies are doing surveys about people before they prescribe any meds.

Where this hurts, is that if you're bipolar, you have a major mark against you.  If you have siblings who are addicts/alcoholics/etc, that's another mark against you.

I suppose what I really want to hammer home on this post... or perhaps not...

Is that I have an addiction to...
FOOD!

There I said it!

Ok.. mostly to food that's not good in large quantities.

Long time ago, I posted how much I love ice cream!  I still buy it by the gallon, but much less often.  Perhaps once a month, month and a half.


When my bipolar and emotions are under better control, then my eating habits are under better control too.

So my weight yo-yo's +/- 5 pounds week to week.

At least my weight is down from 330 a few years ago!