Where angels fear to tread in Normal entries

  • Sept. 17, 2017, 9:02 p.m.
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It’s been a wild couple of days? Weeks? Hours? How long has it been since I’ve been here? Am I talking heads song? Where is my big beautiful bitch of an ex-wife? I probably mentioned the bikes being stolen, that was Labor Day. I might have mentioned replacing the bikes. I’m pretty sure I didn’t mention the insurance pay-out as that just came like yesterday (yesterweek? Yesterhour? Is this my big beautiful house?).

At her (the insurance lady) insistence I told her every dime I spent on the bikes. With the deductible, she sent a check for 1850. In their wildest dreams those bikes were a fistful of C notes shy of 1850. Granted, the one was damn near brand new, less than 200 miles on it and less than three weeks off the showroom floor, but, even with tax (Christ I’m an Oregonian still, if something says 99 cents it shouldn’t cost a buck five) it barely tipped the scales at 700. The other one, I probably wrote an entry about the shitty packaging, was 470 out of pocket, ridiculous shipping charge of 140 and 100 bucks to get it sorted from the criminal packaging job. According to the letter from insurance agent I could recoup the 100 (though for some reason she’s calling it 118) with receipt. My math is still calling it way shy of 1950 (pre-deductible).

The bike I did get does have a replacement value of 2 grand, though I only paid 950 for it (if any of you are interested in a high-end bike, Bulls has all but three models half off, they are trying hard to break into American market https://www.bullsbikesusa.com/hardtail-c-1_4.html). Again, my math is different, 50 percent off of 1999.99 is like 1000 not 950. Free shipping too and packaged very well, mostly all dialed in, just the front wheel, handlebars and seat (saddle even already attached to seat post, gear shifters and brakes already attached to handlebars and brakes and derailleurs). It’s by and far the best bike I’ve owned as a grownup. Not in the “look at my red sports car!” but in the “my ancient ass appreciates the smooth ease of use” kind of way.

So that’s part of what has made my last few days, weeks, hours wild, exploration. And of course, my brother evacuating due to Irma, GF problems (not problems with GF, just, you know, her hours, days, weeks have been hillier than mine, that’d be up-hillier). And some social media demands more of my time. Ok, demands is hardly precise, I choose not to suffer fools and choose to go to the fool’s digital home where angels might not fear to tread, but squeeze their eyes tight and shake their heads when they tread there.

One of the many upsides to a journaling site over, say, FoolsBook? At least the happy horseshit on a journaling site is original, well, kind of, I just mean no one posts thirty memes and a photo of their lunch. You actually have to say something, or, like me, type out a bunch of words that say really say anything, but fuck me, they are my words, not some viral pussycat (yikes, sounds like an STD).

I am not making very good use of my medical marijuana card. As exciting as it might be to have one, especially now that Jeff Sessions has fired a shot across my bow, I’m a lightweight and sometimes forget that I’ve got enough dope around here to stay stoned for the entire winter.

Huh. I wonder if anyone has tried making an insurance claim on stolen weed? No, I don’t. I wonder if anyone has been successful in making that claim. I mean shit, it does mean someone breaking into your home … I haven’t made many insurance claims in my life. The only other two I remember were replacing a windshield because effing Oregon pebbles the roads when it snows (Ok, only in Portland, I’m sure parts of the state that get snow all the time have a better way of dealing with it) and the pebbles stay on the road until they find homes in windshields. That was easy, didn’t raise my premiums and windshield replacement places are so competitive usually you can find at least one who will pay your deductible. The other was trying to get homeowners to pay for my toilet falling through the floor. I tried insisting it was water damage. They didn’t buy it. It was a hail Mary anyhow.

Ok, 754 words (plus tax) of not updating. I’m good, y’all?


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