Worthy Cause

Longtime Reader Tim V sends this appeal:

A buddy of mine is suspended without pay for refusing to get vaccinated and is currently in court over this issue. The Go Fund Me link has all the details. He is looking for financial help for the legal expenses.
I thought you might be interested in supporting this GoFundMe, https://gofund.me/511282ac.
Even a small donation could help Jonathan Lucas reach his fundraising goal.

Because this mandatory-vax bullshit has gone far enough, I’ve donated a small amount.  Do thou the same, O My Readers, if possible.

Final Update, I Promise

Annnnnnndddd:  it’s not COVID.

Seriously.  Last night I got the news from the Doctor’s Hottie that my ‘Rona test had come back negative. And so much for that.

What I actually have — WE THINK — is a simple, nonspecific upper-respiratory tract infection, so today I start a  Zithromax “Z-pak” treatment regimen which as explained to me is like shooting fish with a scattergun in that the drug targets “infections of the lungs, sinus, throat, tonsils, skin, urinary tract, cervix, or genitals.”

If we exclude “skin, urinary tract, cervix, or genitals” for obvious reasons (none of those bits hurt, or I don’t have them), that means that this little pink pill should address my sore throat, congested lungs and full-to-bursting sinuses, and about damn time.

And I’ve had that pennies-in-the-mouth taste over the past three days for nothing.

And I’ve also been feeling shitty for the past week for nothing — without the ever-popular COVID blocking the national consciousness, this would probably have been properly diagnosed on Day 1 had I said to the doctor — as I’d said to New Wife — that I’ve been dealing with this shit for most of my damn life.

Posts have been set up for the weekend (normal fare, btw), so I’ll see y’all on Monday.

Goddamn and fuck.

Closeup view of my throat, this morning:

Update On Health Update

I have the ‘Rona:  “Breakthrough”, or whatever they’ve labeled Covid-19 v8.65.

It is, to put it politely, a motherfucker:  far worse than the variant I had last December.

As I told you I thought I’d turned the corner and started having what doctors euphemistically call “productive” coughs:  great mouthfuls of phlegm dredged out of my lungs.

False alarm.  So I went off to our family GP, Doctor Shit-For-Brains (not his real name), who tested me for strep (what I thought I had) and when that came back negative, sent the Holy Q-Tip off for a complex ‘Rona test, but said, “If I was sitting at the casino table and had to put money on ‘Rona vs. some other thing, it would all go on ‘Rona.”

So I’ve started taking the new wunderkind stuff, Paxlovid, but all it handles is the virus itself.  The razor blades in the throat when I swallow, the coughing which brings up pieces of liver never mind lung, etc. — all these have to be addressed by the Usual Suspects.

I have no voice.  When (if) I survive this shit, remind me to tell you the story of getting my Paxlovid at Shit-For-Brains II (a.k.a our various local drug stores), which is a tale to make strong men weep.

Oh, and did I tell you that one charming side-effect of Paxlovid is that your mouth tastes as though you’ve been sucking on dimes and pennies for the past month?

Worse yet, I have absolutely no energy or desire to do anything.

I will post a brief thing each morning just to reassure you that I’m still alive, but that’s about it.

Wish me luck.


I may have said it first, but Steve Sailer says it with data and stuff:

Fortunately, in the current global outbreak only three people outside Africa have died so far, none in the U.S. Hopefully, there’s something different between African monkeypox and Western gay monkeypox.

Of course, monkeypox in America and Europe is overwhelmingly being spread by gay men to gay men.

For example, in New York City, none of its 336 victims so far have been women, in comparison to seven who are listed as “TGNCNB,” an acronym new to me that stands for “Transgender and Gender Non-Conforming Non-Binary.” Similarly, in Washington, D.C., which has the highest per-capita infection rate in the country, not one of the 122 patients is a woman.

Of course, one cannot mention the unthinkable:

“It’s unclear if this version of monkeypox spreads sexually or through more general skin-on-skin contact, or, most likely, both. It might also transmit through the air, but, at the moment, it appears to usually take a gay bacchanal to strew it far and wide.”

…lest one is accused of homophooohhhbia, but let’s be honest and at least acknowledge that in this case at least, there’s an ironclad correlation between buttsex and homopox.

Well, Now

…are we heading back to the 1980s, pox-wise?

The world faces a monkeypox pandemic — said pandemic having originated not in Wuhan this time, but in Africa, the traditional ground zero for most shitty modern-day plagues and illnesses — such as HIV/AIDS.

But wait! there’s more!  Let’s look at the breadcrumbs:

The U.K.´s Health Security Agency said Monday there were now 470 cases of monkeypox across the country, with the vast majority in gay or bisexual men.  According to U.K. data, 99% of the cases so far have been in men and most are in London.


First monkeypox patient to go public is a gay HR manager from London who was deported from Dubai just weeks ago for testing positive for HIV


American man, 48, vacationing at a Mexican resort for gay men fled a Puerto Vallarta hospital after being told that he might have monkeypox: He flew to Texas where he tested positive for the highly infectious virus

Of course (just as with AIDS), there’s the obligatory warning for heterosexuals:

Scientists warn that anyone, regardless of sexual orientation, is susceptible to catching monkeypox if they are in close, physical contact with an infected person or their clothing or bed sheets.

…which is true, of course, but unless you’ve been sleeping in some fegelah‘s unwashed sheets or snogging his boyfriend, your chances of catching this latest little present from Africa seem to be remote.

And of course, the CDC is ever ready to play its part in this maskirovka, putting out a pamphlet like this one, which depicts (surprise!) a hetero couple and not someone from Greenwich Village.

Even our old ‘Rona friend, the oh-so scientific (not) “6 feet apart” rule, has made a comeback.

What a load of crock.  Needless to say, the Covidocrats are just itching [sic]  for some new pretense to lock us all down again, but it ain’t gonna work this time.