Supplemental Security Income-SSI

USA Kill Citizens Like Syria, Only Slower

Letter penned to Mayor Eric Garcetti, Governor Edmund Brown, Senator Dianne Feinstein, Senator Kamala Harris, ABC News Desk, and CBS News Desk:

QuoteI have worked my whole life until I became medically disabled.

Because my last job was as an independent contractor, I did not qualify for disability and now exist on supplemental security income of $895.00/month.

First of all, I applied in November 2016. I was denied SDI about January 2017 and they began to check my qualifications for SSI in February 2017. As of July 2017, I have been approved, but I have only received half of my pay since my application date.

EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF ME, BUT ISN’T THIS MY MONEY?

You have one hell of a nerve to keep my own money from me, having only disbursed half so far. To add insult to injury, my CalFresh benefits have been cut off and I am now responsible for paying for my own food! What food? I don’t even have enough for rent in Los Angeles, where the average cost of a one-bedroom apartment is $2060.00/mo, much less food.

NO WONDER HOMELESSNESS IS SUCH A PROBLEM IN LOS ANGELES.

Thankfully, I earn unreported cash. And you wonder why people are so deceitful towards their government and their authorities; you are nurturing it!

I EXPECT A PERSONAL REPLY TO THIS CORRESPONDENCE.

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Google Search: “shut in dating”

I love my wit, yet I despair it is dying with my wildest dream of finding someone to love me – or of ever finding myself worthy of love from someone else.

Having had yet another spiritual awakening as a result of the steps, I have a new perspective: I should be looking for the type of guy that likes me the way I am rather than me looking for someone I like to like me as much as I like them: a chubby chaser.

I post a very direct Craig’s list ad for sex, due to “The Green-Horny Parallax Syndrome.” As the syndrome subsides, in the background, Tired by Adele playing…

QuoteI’m tired of trying; Your teasing ain’t enough
Fed up of biding your time when I don’t get nothing back
And for what, and for what, and for what when I don’t get nothing back
Oy, I’m tired…”

I return to the computer to delete my ad out of despair and the realization: my room is unkempt – to be kind; the floor covered with dog hair; and at the suggestion of my psychologist, start typing my drama out. All of a sudden there a tug on the line. This fish is instant lusting that chocolate worm. I remember my new perspective and IT’S ON!

What the fuck am I thinking? I am thinking since my parents are gone, I can use my nephew’s old room. I am taking such a big risk, having been caught in my parent’s bed once before with my second boyfriend. They have only once before made this trip round in one day, so what are my odds?

As a safety measure I call my cousin and we agree she is going to call in half an hour as a safety check. Then she asks “What’s his name?” I don’t know. I am way too excited. He calls: “Did I get his text?” I HATE TEXTING! He asks for face pic. LIGHTBULB! I ask for one in return.

He gets here; I go out to greet him. He is a muscular jock type! WTF! I am so fuckin’ attracted, I can barely contain myself. Of course, cotton-mouth is my enemy. But I finally get him in the room, ask him how he wants to do this, and then immediately take over. Mistake 2: Better customer service would’ve been to let him take over the situation, but again due to the extra self-imposed pressure, I was rushed. If you are paying attention, you might think I forgot something, but I didn’t: Mistake 1: I should have not caused myself undue pressure by using my parent’s house for a hook up.

I was able to do the deed, but not to my own satisfaction. Let me tell you this, though, that boy had me in heaven! He had been asking what else I might be in to? Would I answer the door naked? I did inform him of my safety measure to be up front. If I had been honest and brought him to my room, this post might not have been edited so soon.

I finally call my cousin and I am still giddy. We come to the realization that she has seen my “addictive” personality, which leads me to believe I might be addicted to sex also. It certainly has always played a role in my drug use. Despite old behavior, which we both laugh at, I am being 100% honest. Perhaps that makes me believe that good can win without being evil.

I am still going to research shut-in dating; who knows, I could find a shut-in chub chasers group! 😀 😀 😀

Grump

“What if your pain could be erased?”

QuoteI don’t want my pain erased. As wretched as it is, I need my pain; it makes me who I am; it makes me Grumpy.”

~ Once Upon A Time
Season 1; Episode 9: 7:15 A.M.

The ironic thing is that I presume most people misinterpret this attitude as disagreeable, which I guess could be viewed as such by others. I suppose I want to defend Grumpy’s statement because I can identify with it.

Growing up in a non-demonstrative [of love, feeling – in my opinion, of course], love was best displayed that if you were lucky enough to be the focus of ribbing/teasing, you were loved. I testify that constant teasing can make one grumpy, especially, when that same person has been spoiled and is facing the reality of life, being on the short end of the stick.

When I think about it further, teasing continued throughout my childhood: Fat, Gay – and I didn’t even know what gay was yet. As I enter the final stage of life (beginning, middle, end – my heart is softening my life resentments and I realize how bullying can affect one’s life, though the evil side of me still has a problem with being a big enough to be bullied that far. I am the biggest sissy around, yet I am still here – mentally and physically.

THEN AGAIN…knowing that there is a cost for magic, I would have to nail down all the particulars before agreeing to it. Actually, on the face of it, NO, I would not want my pain erased; I’m too afraid of the consequences. And with my record of having lived a Charlie Brown existence, I can’t afford to take the chances.

Happy Fourth?

What do we have to be happy about?

We the 99%, are still being ruled by the 1% for the last 241 years!

We the 99%, are still being ruled by a gov’t run on laws 241 years old

We the 99%, are “represented” by individuals that work 1/3 less the average that we work.

We the 99%, are “represented” by individuals that earn their income for lifetime, while we are forced to live on gov’t supplemental income.

We the 99%, are “represented” by individuals trying to kill us with horrific healthcare.

The gov’t spends OUR tax dollars; we should be able to designate where OUR $ go.

 

Think about that while you are barbecuing, celebrating!

 

Flag hung upside down to represent how ass-backwards our country is!

Venus Williams

Venus Williams: Guilty of Manslaughter

Yet she, according to Good Morning America, she has not been ticketed nor charged for the accident in which an elderly gentleman was killed, his wife injured. And why the fuck is the daughter filing a case for wrongful death? Hello!? There is a crime for that: Manslaughter!

Despite manslaughter being a misdemeanor in this instance – to the best of my knowledge and which explains Venus’s current freedom – I am outraged! But the law, is the law.

Regina

“I can’t keep living like this!”

Quote What Snow did to me; what she took from me. It’s eating me alive. Her very existence mocks me. She must be punished.”

Once Upon A Time
Season 1, Episode 2: The Thing You Love Most

I can so identify with the Evil Queen (Lana Parrilla). June has been relegated as Gay Pride Month. I am gay, but I am not proud. If anything, My feelings towards other gays are equal to the Evil Queen’s feelings towards Snow.

Rationally, I admit my lack of good choices and accountability in life corroded my self respect. All I ever wanted in life was a companion to share my life with. Growing up gay; knowing I was different, but now how; and the constant bullying I experienced from others with more sharpened intuition made keeping my secret unbearable.

“What they did to me; what they took from me; it’s eating me alive!”

When I learned I was gay and that there were others I celebrated…right into addiction, irrationality and the whole time I was still hoping, seeking and desiring a companion. Of course my perceptions of what love would be got warped and twisted. My journey into loneliness was only compounded by the fact that being overweight my whole life, I was not the ideal “West Hollywood,” “South Beach” skinny, muscular homo.

“Their very existence mocks me!”

As such, I did not find much to be gay or proud about and continue to mull these dire thoughts.

“I can’t keep living like this!”

I have given up in life. My health has deteriorated over two years and now I am plagued with elder complications. I have no ambition, no friends, and probably insufficient energy for any activities. I just wait to die now and in the meantime, I enjoy the company of my dog, Mojo, with whom I have a pact that we must die at the same time.

God is great…

…if you believe.

And if you believe in a God, as you understood Him, it’s even bettah!

I noticed Mojo was having a seizure. I went to grab the towel for sensory deprivation therapy (SDT). His seizure was long and drawn out, but mild. We were watching American Ninja Warrior and I was thinking that these guys deserve their adoration for such a personal victory and such wonderfully hot bodies.

Next thing I notice was that Mojo had calmed. I put him down, but I was wrong. I picked him up again, SDT, and added singing. The all of a sudden I got sad and started asking God for a miracle cure in the name of Mojo, because I did not want to lose my connection with a God, as I understand him.

WAIT! Did I just say that? I had been questioning my faith recently.

I always talk to Mojo, my dog, who does not understand English, every day he has been with me. We are both diseased: predetermination. Doh! I do have faith!

The next thing I noticed…Mojo’s seizure had ended.

Glory be and hallelujers!

Praise God!

Testify!

“Sister Emmy Lou done gone t’ shoutin’ an’ jumpin’ cause she feels the spirit…”

~ Down South Camp Meeting
The Manhattan Transfer