Seems Obama has been under investigation for some kind of criminal link to the BP oil spill. The San Francisco Examiner has a story this morning about his (and some of his buddies) ties to BP.
I don't think this is the kind of attention Obama wants!
And speaking of that, here's some I didn't want:
Saturday began just like any other day. I woke up about 4:30, got up about 4:45 (after considering staying in bed) and staggered into the living room where my wife had coffee waiting for me.
I did my usual chores, which consisted of going out front and picking up the paper—you know—the one loaded with Obamaganda?
I came back in the house, sat down and started reading, while waiting for my wife to make breakfast!
I noticed my back seemed a little sensitive this morning, but passed it off as just arthritis flaring up from sleeping too long on my back.
By the time I passed up Doonesbury (never could stand that strip) my back was hurting pretty good.
So when my wife called me to breakfast, I told her I wanted two full-strength aspirin, instead of the 81mg “baby” one I usually take.
“Why?” she asked, directly to the point as usual!
“Oh, my back aches a little this morning,” I says, acting nonchalant!
After breakfast as I was dressing, I noticed the pain was a little more intense, but I ignored it and continued on with my ablutions!
20 minutes later, as I checked my email (my usual early morning sleepy chore) I discovered my back ached clear through my solar plexus!
Now this was decidedly not normal and not my cup of special tea from Gevalia coffees.
No, of course I don’t drink tea in the morning, stupid---I drink COFFEE—duhh!
Anyhow, despite not drinking tea, I decided to call my advice nurse to see if there were any actions I should take besides opening my front door and screaming, “HA-A-A-A-A-A-A-LP!” as loudly as I could!
We discussed the pain.
“On a rating of 1 to 10, how would you describe your pain”, she asked?
“Um, painful”, I said.
“No, no! I mean if you were to assign a rating to the pain, beginning with 1 as the lowest, or least pain, rising to 10 as emergency pain—where does your pain fall?”
“Well, generally in the lumbar region,” I said, proud I could use a medical term to show my intelligence.
There was a long silence on the phone. Finally, with a sigh, the nurse said, “Tell me how bad it hurts, Mr. ROC!”
“It hurts like hell,” I replied, “That’s why I’m calling you---geez!”
“So you should call an 911 right away,” she sez.
I let that thought perambulate through my brain for several seconds. It took several paths I didn’t like, one being the embarrassment of being hauled out on a stretcher in front of God, my neighbors and all the cats and dogs on the block!
“Well,” I welled, “I guess it’s not that painful.”
“Please hold,” she sez.
W’ot? Hold? Me? But, but, but-, I’m DYING and she wants ME to HOLD?
So I held.
Two minutes later she’s back. “Mr ROC?”
“Still here,” I sez.
“I talked to an emergency room doctor and he advised you come in right away. Can your wife drive you?”
Half an hour later, with my wife telling me I wasn’t really dying and the Emergency room was just another $50 waste of time, I’m checked into emergency at Kaiser Permanente in Antioch.
After blood tests, X-rays and 4 hours of waiting the doctor comes in and tells me there was nothing wrong with me!
“Nothing,” sez I?
“Nope,” sez he, and, “You can be home in time for dinner!”
“Not MY dinner,” sez the thoroughly PO’d wife.
So of course, my wife and I stopped at a local restaurant for dinner.
Who wants to cook when they have a sore back?
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