I spotted my first Orb tonight, directly overhead, out the Cave side door.
I cleaned it up and it looked like this:
Some nights you have a few choices when you need food to survive. Walk to the Dollar Store, hit a local mediocre food joint, order pricey DoorDash, or whip up something from the almost bare cupboard. Tonight, I chose the latter, which was good in the fact that I didn't have to deal with anyone.
I found this package of Thai flavored tuna and some croutons in the cupboard, which I crushed up because I have no teeth. I mixed them together with some untasty potato salad from Publix, added some sweet chili sauce from the fridge, and had me a dinner bowl.
I had a skin cancer cut off the top of my head recently. I didn't need a diagnosis or a biopsy, I've had plenty removed from my body and I knew what it was. The young guy that wrote shit down in the cutting room was nice, then a skinny little overpaid cunt swept in, no small talk, and sliced it off. I told her I thought it was a Basil and she looked at me with disdain and said it was probably a Squamous, and walked out the door.
Then I discovered I had to go back, so I called and asked why. The chick I talked to said that the removal was for biopsy purposes, and now I needed to get the remainder dug out of my head. The appointment was for next week, at 0730, which for a man with no vehicle was not an acceptable time to ask of others.
I got a text a couple days ago from these people, asking me to submit an X if I wanted to cancel, or some other character if I wanted to agree to be there. I wrote a few words back asking if there was a better time later in the day, or on another day. The fucking bot that sent it said I was not allowed to communicate, just submit a code. So I shoved an X up it's ass.
Shelby just texted me with real words, thank god she's not a bot, and said we should keep that appointment. Fuck no, the thing has healed over, the low grade headache is gone, and I'm not letting that bitch touch my head. Shelbs said doctors are good to have, it's the only thing that keeps us alive. And I told her, that I'm the only thing that keeps me alive.
Now I've got another appointment next week with the Primary Care guy. The only thing he's done for me is keep my pill supply active at Walgreens. Then there's the head doctor who scheduled a Cat scan that I missed, a brain scan that I took, and a couple vitamins that haven't stopped my tremors in the months I've been taking them now.
If you've read this far, I don't know why. I'm in an angry at the world place today, and it's a good thing I don't have any human contact. I still haven't had a drink since last year, and I'm pissed off at myself that I've created this situation.
If my truck was still running I would have hopped into it days ago and disappeared for a while. But all I've been doing lately is creating A/I images that will never be used by anyone.
So excuse me if I'm in a fucking bad mood.
Here's some logos I created for my son Riley's Auto Body shop in Federal Way, WA. He asked if I could do one with a Monarch butterfly, and I woke up at 0100 this morning and created the logo below. Best damned thing I've done so far!
I applied the deepai.org chibi-character-generator AI to Dan's gun store, and came up with some fun stuff. The basic prompt was Create a logo for a gun store named "Green Line Arms". I then apply it across a variety of styles untll I come up with something great, then crop and process the generated image through my own graphics editor, for exposure and contrast adjustments.
It's pretty amazing stuff, and I doubt he can use these, but the concept is fun and impressive.
It's tough being an old idiot, with hands and a brain that don't work the way they used to. I've been waiting days now for a phone interview from the local Family Services, to happen this morning at 0820.
I'm trying to switch over to Medicaid, and get on Food Stamps. As embarrassing as that is to write, I have no fucking pride left, I'm just trying to survive.
This interview was the final step to make that happen, so I had all of my paperwork in front of me, as the call came in. The lady identified herself and I said good morning, as I switched my phone over to speaker mode.
The volume was low so I reached to the side of the phone to increase the volume, and hit the fucking Off button, which ended the call.
I waited a minute to see if she would call back, but why the hell should she after getting hung up on. No call, so I called them and talked to a lady who said she couldn't reconnect me, but could take the same information the interviewer would have asked. Who knows how that will affect the process.
Then I decided to take a long overdue shower, get into some street clothes, and walk to the Dollar Store later this morning for supplies. As the hot water flowed over my back, I realized it's been about eight years, or more, since I've had my back washed, and there is a wide area that my old arms can't reach.
Steph and I used to shower together every morning, before we went off to our respective jobs back in Idaho. Washing each others backs was always part of the process, and I used to wash her great tits from behind, which always started out my day nicely.
Now I'm sitting here crying, wondering how I could have fucked up my life so badly. But hey, maybe if I'm lucky I'll get on Food Stamps, and forget about ever having my back washed.
It's been an interesting couple of days, hunkered down in the Cave, avoiding the bitter Florida cold, staying sober and alive.
I haven't had physical contact with another human, but that's been my choice, as Shelby offered to drop by yesterday. I've been wondering how this roof over my head was going to play out at the end of the month, but it looks like I may have a new roommate.
So I consider myself a lucky man and glad to be alive. Sometimes I have imaginary guests, but most of the time I just contemplate my life, out here in the cave.
One of my most memorable life moments occurred in Kent, WA during the early nineties. I had run out of money, lost my apartment, and moved out into the nearby wooded field, that eventually became a Target.
I stored my important possessions on my ex's back porch in the same complex, borrowed a tent from my buddy Dave across the street, and set up camp deep inside the field. I had a sleeping bag and a small battery powered TV, that was it.
That first night, my young son Riley was allowed to sleep over, and we watched StarTrek on that little screen. We've talked about it since, and he remembers that night clearly.
Ironically, he and his wife and daughters, and my grand-daughter Shelby, are the only family I have left. At least I have them, and I'm very grateful. Deserving, not so much...
I've been having a great time with the chibi-character-generator from deepai.org. I finally maxed out my limit of free image generation, and they asked for a subscription of $4.99 a month, which I gladly signed up for.
It then opened up their Pro level, and I'm really impressed. Here's a few of today's creations.
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