Yeah, it's Fall and I come alive. Deal with it.

I have been sleeping more normally, in other words, getting up no earlier than 4 am and falling asleep after 9 pm. I am slapping "normal" on this improvement and calling it good. Also, with mornings both lit and cool, I have been weeding my yard. Those who know me well should struggle back into your chair and hear me out. I still hate hate hate dirt under my fingernails, but stupid gloves help. Also, my psychic as well as physical energy levels are very high (psychic:fear and aggravation at all time record levels, including when my Mom was doing her worst at me and physical: duh, fall). Also I crafted a way to make weeding personally rewarding: I growl while pulling out noxious elements in our government (yard) and chortle while binning (impeachment, seat taking, firing, even battering (McConnell)). Most neighbors have already left for work, and I must conclude the rest are cowering behind their curtains. Fall, glorious fall.

The dumpster fire that is the legal process of attempting to exact proportional harm to the Opioid Pushers reminds me of my all time favorite Gahan Wilson cartoon. It has really stuck with me due to it's dark humor which I encountered reading Playboy magazine in high school (courtesy of Dad*).  In case you cannot read the sale signs: (Left) Iced Drink 5¢ and (Right) Iced Drink Antidote $1.00  ---or is it $100 ? I can't tell.

Here is why I sought it out, and actually paid $11 for a one-post license on my blog: the structure of the proposed settlement with Purdue Pharma includes the creation of a "public beneficiary trust" which would continue to sell Oxycontin and give away opioid treatment-related drugs that it's developing. The treatment drugs are still experimental and are not available. See the evil echo in the cartoon? Of course, the antidote will be "cheaper" to buy - excluding life altering costs.

*This is the back story on me, Dad, and Playboy.
While I never asked him why he gave me access, I think I know: he did not trust Mom to report that a woman's sexual pleasure is natural and to be enjoyed. Certainly Playboy was an imperfect view of women, but so was my Mom's living version.

As a side note I did have one uncomfortable Playboy interaction with Dad (Mom was in the room too) when I was telling him how funny I found Bill Cosby's piece on desperately seeking pussy as a youth. [I KNOW, I KNOW, yuck]. As I had never encountered this "euphemism" for a vagina  in my reading or peer interactions (I sussed out the meaning from context), I assumed this was his personal funny substitute word.  [In retrospect, using an actual slang word is MUCH less funny] Dad interrupted my enthusiastic gush with: "you DO know that is an actual term, don't you?" Oops. I did not lose my access, in fact, he was probably even more convinced I needed some schooling about the wider world. I did and still do.