The Angry Jew

The rantings of an Angry Jew in The Pacific Northwest

Maybe it is being in a new and healthy relationship, maybe it is getting adjusted to working a graveyard shift, but lately, I have just been very angry lately, much to my friends disgust.  I can be pretty schmaltzy when I am happy, which Bacon Betty has made me in the extreme these last few months.

With that in mind, a piece in this afternoons (morning’s) paper had me spitting coffee across the table.

Effective Thursday, a new law goes into effect that frees that enslaved class of Americans, the flying public.

The new regulations are a result of an incident that occurred in December of 2006, when passengers were held on board an American Airlines flight that was en route to Dallas and was diverted to Austin.  Passengers were held on board the aircraft for 11 HOURS!

The new regulations will impose a fine of $27500 per passenger on any airline that holds passengers hostage for more then 3 hours.  Another example of government reacting to a real problem for a change, score a victory for the little guy, right?

Well, not according to David Castleveter of the Airline Transportation Association of America, an industry lobbying group.

According to David the new regulations will only cause more cancellations, more missed connections, more mishandled bags and more passengers who will not get where they want to go.

DA’Fuck?

How fucking hard is it to pull an air stair up to a cabin door and let people get off the aircraft to stretch their legs and take a leak, David?

How deeply would it cut into corporate profits to have a facility located inside the secure area of the airport equipped with restrooms, coffee, a few vending machines and maybe a phone or two, and maybe (gasp) a smoking area, so that the passengers YOU strand could maybe feel a bit human.

You would only need one such facility per airport, I am sure all these big airlines can learn to play together, a few bus’s to transport the passengers, and maybe a TSA officer or two to keep passengers from wandering off.

Come on now David, it’s not like that facility is NEVER going to get used or anything.

I find it interesting that instead of embracing these changes and vowing to better serve the customers that pay your freaking bills, the airline trade associations instead decide to issue threats.  Pretty telling, don’t you think?

I don’t fly very much these days and, knock wood, I have never had to endure being stranded on the tarmac for hours on end, but considering the fact that they are charging a fee for everything but breathing, opps, wait a minute, strike that, I don’t want to give the airlines any ideas, you would think that the airlines would be just a bit more concerned for their customers.

I guess I just have to be a little more realistic, it isn’t as if sheeple are going to stop lining up to be abused in the name of profits, right?

Actual text messages received today from the vivacious Bacon Betty.

504 PM

Did I love you, my big ol teddy bear man?  Good Nap?

Love?  PANIC!!!!

506 PM

Did I LOSE you, my big teddy bear man? Hahaha. Oops

Hahaha indeed.  Not going to have any trouble staying awake tonight.

You just can’t have enough porn and now, even the visually impaired can get in on the fun.

A new book, Tactile Mind, features the first “Feelie” porn.  While a braille edition of Playboy has been available for many years, Lisa J Murphy’s  work is the first to have sculpted and thermoformed images.

But porn for the blind does not come cheap…yes…I know…but who can resist a pun like that…the book of erotic photographs sells for a hefty $225 dollars.  Enclosed is a not safe for work image from the book.

A tactile picture of a woman’s naked chest. She leans against a wall, her arms outstretched to her sides. She wears a simple white cardboard mask, and a single gold bracelet.

Portland is many things to many people.

For me, one of it’s great attributes has been the wonderful variety of junk food to be had.  I grew up on the Los Angeles food scene…Carneys, Fat Jacks, In and Out, Fat Burger, Okey Dogs, Tommys, all the great burger and dog houses were within my grasp.  There are few scattered here and there in Portland, but a new champion has emerged in the Rose City.

Bacon Betty and I had just finished a drink over at The Shanghai Tunnel, observing the mating rituals of the young and tragically hip.  It had been a great night out for us.  Wandering around Powells Books looking for a Larry Niven anthology so I could show her “Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex” an essay on the deadly results of sex between Superman and Lois Lane, dinner at Kenny and Zukes, tragically they were out of tongue for Bacon Betty to try, until I wept a little and the waitress found her a piece and yes, she liked it.

Then we walked down to third street and stopped in to visit with Nick and Jenny over at The Super Funtabulous Hole of Piercing #9 (Damnit, I still have not got it right, Nick, send me an email with the name you want me to use for Straight To The Point, will ya)

It got to be around midnight or so when we decided to pack it in and head back to the car.  We dodged the sugar junkies getting their high at Voodoo Doughnuts and were checking out the crowd over at Ash Street Saloon when a little tent in the parking lot caught my eye.  Thinking it might be something worth checking out, Betty and I headed over.

It turns out the tent was covering a hot dog cart.  A super charged, flaming red hot dog cart with a built in sound system pumping out rock and roll that almost, but not quit, drowned out Big Fat Wieners Co Owners David and Jason as they hawked their wares.

David looked me in the eye and threw down the gauntlet of challenge.

“You ready to try the best hot dog in Portland?”

Thats a pretty bold claim my friend, what have you got?

He sucked me in with his first creation.

A mushroom, Swiss, roasted garlic and bacon dog.  BACON!!!!

Fresh sliced mushrooms were tossed onto the griddle top to saute as a bun was slathered with roasted garlic.  A generous slice of Swiss cheese was melted on as the mushrooms and three slices of bacon were added to a substantial hot dog and served up smokin hot.

The price….a very reasonable $5.50

It was love at first bite.

As I snarfed my way through this ultimate midnight snack, David filled me in on Big Fat Wieners.  David explained that they had been open for about two weeks and that he and Jason had gotten tired of working in others peoples restaurants and had decided to strike out on their own.  They are staking their reputations on fresh, quality ingredients and audacious presentation to carve a niche in Portlands lucrative food cart market.

David offered me a sample of their signature hot dog fixin’, the chili for their Chocolate Chili Dog.  Now before you go getting all ewww on me, I have long used cocoa powder to season my own home made chili.  It imparts a mole like richness to it.  David and Jason, being the demented geniuses that they are, have taken it a step further by melting Hershey’s Dark chocolate into theirs.  It has just the right blend of fire and sweet to accent a tube steak.  Dave described how he throws pepper jack cheese right onto the grill top and then sets the bun on top of it, so the cheese is cooked into the bun, then the dog followed buy a generous portion of their home made chili.  Don’t think I was not tempted to try one, but the Mushroom, Bacon, Swiss and Roasted Garlic Dog had done its job of filling my late night hungry spot.

I have to tell you friends, if you are downtown doing the bar scene between 5 and 230 on the weekends, head on over to 3rd and Ash and look for Big Fat Wieners in the parking lot directly across the street from The Ash Street Saloon.  You are not going to want to miss out on this one.

Just tell em The Angry Jew sent

Well my friends, yes, it is another one of those “diary posts” that only my true friends will stop to read.

In the latest crazy turn of events in my so called life, effective this Sunday night, I will be working the graveyard shift.  My company, in rare display of common sense, decided to try eliminating the very hot and uncomfortable swing shift for the summer and only run a graveyard and day shift.

My reasons for making the switch are pretty simple really, for the first time in the 11 years I have worked there, I will know when I am going home as I will be working the first shift.  Next, it will allow me to spend more quality time with Bacon Betty ( I really have to do something about the name, it just does not do her justice).  When she is at work, I will be asleep, it leaves us our evenings together.

Finally, I had absolutely no freaking choice in the matter.  I did not have enough seniority to get the day shift so I might as well make the best of it, besides, most of my regular crew is making the change as well and we are going to have a grand old time, or at least we have managed to convince ourselves of that.

Self delusion is a powerful tool.

So, faced with having to turn my body clock upside down, I decided the smart thing to do was pull an all niter tonight and then sleep most of the day tomorrow.  A sound plan I think, despite the fact that I was up at 845 this morning for a doctors appointment.  I can do this.

2315

Home from work.  This is going to be fun, I have a whole list of things to get done, I will have no problem staying awake and making productive use of this time.  First order of business, a large cup of coffee to sip while I finish last weeks episode of Stargate:Universe, then a shower and into some clean clothes.   No sweats for me tonight, can’t get too comfy.

2400

Look at me being all productive.  Got all the dishes in the dishwasher.  Not sure what was growing in that glass I found in the bedroom.  I think I drank from it last night, but I am sure it will be fine.  Listening to Bacon Betty’s Bob Seger channel on Pandora as I straighten up.  So far i have not heard a single Bob Seger song….Interesting

0120

Finally got all the trash and newspapers out to the dumpster, including that box of crap that has been sitting next to my front door for a year.  I draw the line at getting rid of the phone books.  If they cant tell from the three year collection of them sitting there that I am not interested then to hell with them.  Still have not heard a single Bob Seger song, going to have to talk to Bacon Betty about this.  Well, with the house straightened and grocery list in hand, I head out to the all night market to get my grocery shopping done.

0130

I side track to the local Not A Dennys for a snack.  It turns out my favorite waitress has just started graveyard and greets me with a hug.  I get a club sandwich and coffee.  We both make fun at the group of teens playing D&D at one of the tables until I realize that 30 years ago, I was them.

0200

Taking my usual back roads “short cut” to the grocery store i realize i am the only car on the road.  I dodge the shelf stocking crews as I wind my way through the store, back tracking several times to complete my list.  It is one of those discount, bag your own stores.  It takes me five minutes to figure out how to get everything into the bags I have brought.  I am bothered by the fact that I can only buy macaroni salad in a 3 pound tub and that I can no longer get the mopping clothes for my Swiffer.  Now I have to buy a mopping system.  I refuse to give in.  It takes me 3 tries to get out of the parking lot….hmmm…maybe driving is not a good idea.  I stop and pick up a few Viso’s to get me through.

0300

Groceries are put away.  The cat appears confused.  Every time she sees me move in her direction she runs into the bedroom thinking it is bed time, then comes out a few minutes later wondering why I have not followed.  She gives up after the 4th attempt.  Still have not heard a Bob Seger song…What the fuck Pandora.

0342

Finally….A fucking Bob Seger song.

0415

My grand plan to clean my apartment has degenerated to wiping down the counters and sweeping the floors.  I have lost my cigarettes twice, my lighter in M.I.A and I found my Viso in the linen closet.  This was sure a better idea at 4 O’clock this afternoon.  The cat has apparently given up on me and disappeared.  4 hours until I can go to sleep?

0430

The cat reappears and demands attention.  Obviously this is some kind of power struggle.  What was in that glass I dranK from the other night?  I have given up on the notion of ever hearing Bob Seger again.

0435

Switch over to my 80’s channel…first fucking song…Bob Seger

0500

FUCK YOU CAT

0530

I am pretty sure Bacon Betty just called.  Might have been the cat.  Not too sure,

0600

The sky is getting light, another hour and I can…..ZZZZZZzzzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzz

You would think in the age of identity theft and consumer rip offs, collections agents would be on the cusp of security and understanding about an individual being hesitant to reveal personal information over the phone.

You would be wrong.

Allow me to explain.

A few years back, the X and I lost our home.  Through no fault of my own, the mortgage got too far behind to recover and we were forced to do a short sale.  It all turned out pretty well, I even made a small profit on the deal in the form of the coffee cup I swiped from the title company.

Now, about 6-8 weeks ago, I received a call from a collections agent.  After the usual back and forth of;

Is this Mr Angry Jew?

Who is calling?

Is this Mr Angry Jew?

I can do this all day, who is calling?

This is an attempt to collect a debt.  Am I speaking to Mr Angry Jew?

A debt for what exactly?

I can only discuss this matter with Mr Angry Jew?  I need to verify your identity.

Well, I need to verify yours, how do you propose we proceed?

they explained that the debt was for the amount of $50.00 owed to my former homeowners insurance company.  They explained that the company had sent several letters to my old address in an attempt to collect before turning the matter over to collections.

This was starting to sound legitimate for me.  The X would have more then likely have had her mail forwarded from the old address, but who knows what could have happened.

Anyway, I gave them my current contact information and asked them to send me a letter with the details of the account and that I would talk to the insurance company and if the debt was indeed legitimate i would pay the account.

I never heard another word.  No letter, no calls, no nothing…until today.

Again, I get a call from a number I do not recognize and go through the whole “who is this?” rigmarole.

Finaly the kid explains he is calling about the whole insurance debt.

WTF says I.

I explain my prior conversation with his professional debt servicing company and he seems befuddled.

Don’t you have a record of my prior conversation with one of your people?

I don’t see anything in the file.

How do you think you got this number and my address…let me save you some brain cells dumbass…I gave it to you.

Oh, here is a note saying they sent you out a letter on the …

No you didn’t, because if you had, I would have called the insurance agent, asked what the hell was going on, and then cut a freaking check.

Well, would you care to settle the account today, I can take your credit card information over the phone.

I am sure you can, we live in a very technologically advanced society, but if you think I am giving a stranger my credit card number over the phone, then I want to see the results of your last drug test.

Oh, they dont drug test here.

Shocking.

Well, if you will sit on hold, I am going to look into why the letter was never sent out.

Uh, listen, whatever the problem is, it is on your end of this transaction, not mine, so you will forgive if I don’t give up my valuable time while you try to figure out where YOU fracked up.  So just send me the fracking letter and I can get this done and over with.

Sir, I have to advise you that the debt collection process will continue.

What process?

You mean you will continue to call me to explain that you cant seem to figure out how to mail a fracking letter.

I can’t wait.

I may end up spending all summer in the theaters
Iron Man 2



Resident Evil: Afterlife



The Expendables
Check Out This Cast



Survival Of The Dead




One would think that I would know better than to ruin a perfectly glorious three day weekend spent in the loving arms of the alluring Bacon Betty by trying to make sense of the insurance mess in which I currently find myself, but alas, I am just not that bright.

It was with some trepidation that I called my Doc’s office to check on the status of the pre-authorization for my new meds.  I was told that they had indeed heard from my insurance company and that my claim had been denied.

Denied?

WTF.

I was then told that the Doc had authorized them to give me some office samples to tide me over, two weeks after this whole mess began.  Well, since I could not afford this stuff in the first place, I did not see any reason in starting up the whole mess again, so I politely declined and canceled my appointment for Tuesday, the point of which was to discuss the side effects from the drugs I am no longer taking.  Saving twenty bucks seemed to be The Jew thing to do.

My next call was to my insurance company as I wanted an answer to the obvious, three year old type question….WHY?

I would like to share my first big problem of the day…

WHY IN THE FUCK AM I REQUIRED TO TELL THE COMPUTER MY MEMBER NUMBER AND DATE OF BIRTH IF THESE ARE THE FIRST FUCKING QUESTIONS THEY ASK ME WHEN A HUMAN BEING FINALLY GETS AROUND TO TAKING MY CALL?

Seems a little redundant, don’t you think?

I explained to the nice young man that I wanted to know why my pre-authorization for my new medication had been denied.

The nice young man explained that he had no information on the matter for me, that all of these types of issues were handled by their drug contractor and I would have to talk to them.

I explained to the nice young man that I have been down this road before and that their drug contractor told me they have no control over these matters, it was all decided by the insurance company, after all, they are just a contractor.

The nice young man became not so nice, and asked rather sternly if I wanted the number.

No said I, I have the number, just transfer me over.

CLICK, BUZZ, DIAL TONE

OH NO YOU DID NT.

Undaunted, I called the drug contractor.

I explained the situation to the nice young lady.

She advised me they needed additional information from my Doc before they could authorize the medication.

Oh really, said I, what information might that be?

She explained that they needed to know if I had ever taken three other drugs to treat my condition and if I had a history of drug abuse or mental illness.

Well, let me cut out the middle man for you.

Yes, said I, I have taken one of the three, and all three have one thing in common, they are all narcotic stimulants and that the whole reason my Doc wanted me to take the new drug was because it was the only non stimulate medication available for the treatment of my condition.  Another reason for making the switch was because I did have a previous history of drug abuse, and, if I was not crazy before I started trying to take the drug, the insurance company was surely going to make me that way.

Well, that is all well and good, but we need to get that information from your Doctor, sir.

Why?

What reason would I have to lie to you, I am not trying to get narcotics, I am trying to get away from them, it would seem to me, a semi rational human being, that this would be proof enough that I must be telling the truth.

Proving that corporations, as defined by the recent Supreme Court ruling, may be people but are not bound by any rules requiring common sense (Hmmm…maybe they really are people?), I asked to speak to someone who could explain to me why I was being made to jump through all these hoops to obtain a non narcotic alternative to the medications I am currently taking.

But sir, the now not so nice young lady said, we are just a third party contractor, we do not make these decisions, we simply follow the guidelines given to us by your insurance company.

what, What, WHAT????

OK, now I really want to speak to your supervisor.

CLICK BUZZ DIAL TONE

OH NO YOU DIDNT!

So I call my Docs office back.

OK said I, here is this information they say they need to approve my meds.

Oh yes, that was all in the fax they sent us, we have all the information together and ready, we are just waiting for your Doc to sign off on it.

HUH?

Why didnt you….you knew I was going to call…could have told me…WTF….BANG

Click Buzz Dial Tone

Apparently a flying fragment of my exploding head had hit the end call button on my phone.

You have to love Mondays.

Well my friends, where all of you have failed. the luscious Bacon Betty has managed to get me to enjoy Easter.

Despite my protestations, she decided that, despite the whole being responsible for nailing up your savior, that I had to have an Easter basket, and oh, what a basket it was.

Now, at first glance it would appear to be a perfectly normal Easter basket, complete with the ears eaten of my chocolate bunny.  She swears it must have been her cat.

It was below the surface that the real goodies lay, as you can see here.

Now the tour de force was the bunny.  An innocent fluffy bunny, right?

Wrong.

For my twisted sweetie decided to answer the question I posted on Facebook a few days back.  She decided to show me exactly where the eggs come from on the bunny.

Do I have the greatest Hunny Bunny ever or what?

A pretty cool fan edit I found while trolling around the internet today.