Dave Atsals

Apes, Shamans, and Atsals on Health Care

Dave Atsals

The Crank and the Mick have both missed the point on the topic of health care.  Therefore, I need to put in my three cents.  My three cents includes something they tend to overlook, common sense (or dollars).  I may be jumping the gun a little bit about Crank and Mick’s articles and opinions, but I doubt it.  Truth be told, I read only the titles of their posts, that seems to be more than enough for me this week.  My guess is the Crank is of the opinion that any form of public health care will ruin the country outright, and Mick feels nothing will ever work because George W. Bush was once our president.  Mick probably related this to the ever-growing national level of consciousness and seven different political talk show hosts so obscure it would take a PhD in C-span 2 to decipher.  The Crank probably related it to a funny colored big ape, perhaps the same one they were testing The Ghetto Shaman’s latest “cures” on.  He probably attacked Mick’s position in the form of very colorfully worded outbursts of CAPITALIZED SENTENCES!!! 

The fact is the ape, the shaman, and I have reached the same conclusion.  Something needs to change.  Keeping the government completely out of everything is not the answer.  It has been tried before and the results are breaking down as we speak.  Complete government control is never the answer either, that is why many of our ancestors came to this country in the first place (or was it for hookers?).  I know personally over a tenth of my earnings goes for my family’s health insurance.  This does not include any additional expenses, such as co-pays, or actual procedures.  I also know the current system makes no sense to me or the ape (see my past article $28.00).  I have looked into some other options for insurance in Pennsyltaxme.  I can insure my kids on the cheap, through something called CHIPS.  The problem is they have to be un-insured for six months before they’re eligible.  Yes, you heard right.  Let’s drop insurance on the children for six months, keep my fingers crossed that nothing happens, and then the Calvary arrives…or the coroner.  THIS IS NOT COMMON SENSE!!  (Hey, the Crank’s onto something. That felt good.  As good as a hooker,  WELL ALMOST!).

My pet peeve involves my pets.  They get better health care from the vets than I do from my doctor.  My pets get little cards in the mail letting them know it’s time for their appointments, and what shots and services are going to be needed next.  If X-rays are needed they are performed on site.  If small surgeries are needed they can be done swiftly and conveniently.  Blood work is run on site, with results within twenty-four hours.  Someone even brings them their dog gone tick medicine right to the damn door.  I wish I had heart worm. 

Me, on the other hand, I never know when an appointment is needed at my Doctors; it takes me six months to see the doctor after a routine physical is scheduled.  I am normally seen by only a nurse practitioner anyway, who tells me the doctor is a swell guy.  When I finally see my doctor all he does is type on his laptop and ignore me while I turn my head and cough.   If blood work is needed, so is another appointment at a local hospital. If X-rays are needed, so is another appointment at a different hospital.  And they don’t even clip my nails; they have to send you to a specialist for that.   I think I am getting heart worm.

Common sense requires me to do a little research stating the pro’s and con’s of Obamacare.  Maybe even propose a solution or two, something Zano never does. 

Facts:

  • The United States is the only industrialized nation without coverage for its entire population.  Granted, some of our people may not deserve it, but we should be a nation that should lead not follow.
  • The number of un-insured in the country continues to rise.
  • Canada’s much maligned health care system costs only a 10th of their GNP, currently ours costs are almost a 15th.  Theirs covers almost everyone.  Their life expectancy is higher, and their infant mortality lower.
  • We are currently ranked 19th in the world.  That’s too damn low.

It makes sense to me why people go on welfare, they get free insurance.  If all American’s were insured it would be a reason for people to move from welfare to lower paying jobs saving the country a ton of money.           

Cons:

  • There is nothing in the Constitution guaranteeing health care.  Next they will want the government to provide everyone cars, boats, and flush toilets.
  • It is just another way to take from the well-off and distribute to the terminally-lazy.
  • Why should we pay medical expenses for the obese, alcoholic, drug addicted, and smokers of the world?  I’m talking to you Ghetto Shaman.  Oh, that’s right, the cocaine is helping your weight problem, isn’t it?   My bad.

Pros:

  • The sickest already receive hospital care and are unable to ever pay, raising all of our insurance and medical expenses.
  • Huge companies make billions of the current system using this money to pay overpaid CEO’s and lobby officials to keep the current system in place and their standard of living the same.
  • National health care replaces insurance premiums with taxes.  In most cases the taxes will be lower than what people are already spending on health care.
  • Over 25 cents of every health care dollar is wasted on paperwork, advertizing, and other things patients don’t need (like referrals to quack psychiatrists “ZANO….ZANO…”).  The other 75 cents usually falls behind the couch.

Yes, common sense math is simple: 4 pros to 3 cons.  It is time for change and some sort of publicly funded health care.  After all, are we all not part of the public, and paying for health care?  This means the entire public is already paying, except those without, which is entirely un-acceptable. 

Health insurance is basically a slush fund where everyone pays into the same bin, even though not everyone is going to need the same.  Therefore, it protects us all from financial disasters if there is a medical necessity.  Having this funded and administered by private insurance companies only makes prices go up, because they need ever-increasing profits.  Take profits out and lower the prices.  Maybe we can do the same with auto insurance, etc.  I wonder how much payments each month goes to un-deserved bonuses.  Do I believe in capitalism?  Sure. The better educated you are effects the better role one should have in society, therefore the better compensation you should receive for that role.   This is why I am studying up to pass my high school equivalency.

SOLUTION:  let the government tax you fairly for healthcare and you chose what form of health care, and where you will go to get it.  If different levels of health care need set up, then so be it.  I do not want to hear that it’s unfair; it is a “YOU” problem.  Work harder, move into a higher income bracket.  After all we all have different levels of health care now based upon what insurance we have, or don’t have.  I know we are all sick of taxes, but some of them actually are used for things, like plowing our roads when it snows, providing education to our young, and protecting our Borders (but not our Starbucks) from foreign invasion.  All of which are useless if you’re dead.

Werewolf Caught Drinking Pina Coladas at Trader Vics: Obama Vows to send the Envoy

Today, Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner captured a werewolf, drinking Pina Coladas at Traders Vicks.  On the tenth anniversary of having his head blown off by CIA operative Van Owen, Roland was out stalking through the night, when he came upon a werewolf whose hair was perfect.  Roland knew instantly it was, Mr. Bad Example himself, the werewolf suspected of ripping out Jims’ lungs.

This werewolf broke all of the deadly sins, rampaged several Marriotts, and doing his best Lon Chaney impersonation killed Du Koo Kim while disguised as Boom Boom Mancini.   His worst crime, the raping and killing of little Susie on prom night, he later made a cage out of her bones.  Mr. Bad Example, for many years, was living in splendid isolation, hid away at Detox Mansion, raking leaves with Liza, and cruising the ocean with Mutineers.  He made the trip to Trader Vicks, not being able to pass up a few drinks and the Bi-Polar women in leather and lace, as he heard Johnny strike up the band.

Roland aimed his Thompson gun; he didn’t say a word.  The werewolf disappeared in the muzzle flash of Roland’s Thompson gun.  Having barely escaped with his life, the wolf immediately called his father to send in Lawyers Guns and Money, claiming there was disorder in the house. 

“Dad,” he screamed, “Get me out of this!”

His request fell upon deaf ears, however, due to turbulence in Moscow and the noise from Mohammad’s Radio.  Distraught, the bandanna wearing werewolf threw himself against the wall, and laid his head on the rail road tracks, waiting for the Double E.

Attempts to sedate the werewolf were unsuccessful as he blurted, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead”.  While praying to the Hindu Love Gods, he threw his lit cigarette into in open container of alcohol.  He was in the house as  it burned down, making plans to search for a certain girl, with a Raspberry Beret, and maybe find some things to do in Denver when you’re dead.

In memory of genius singer-songwriter Warren Zevon

“Enjoy every sandwich!”

My Facebook Needs a Face Lift

Dave Atsals

A friend and fellow Discordian, who would like to remain Mickless, recommended we all register on Facebook, and I hate him for it.  I opened an account, a public one, no less, and thanks to Pierce Winslow’s great idea to use public accolades instead of our real names, well…let’s just say I’ve gotten about what I deserve.  NOTHING. ABSOULTELY NOTHING.  Facebook, or no, the expected herds of adoring fans have yet to materialize.  The sexy blonde female stalkers have not overwhelmed my home page.  In fact, I haven’t even had any hate mail.  Nothing, nada, nichts.   Worse yet, despite the endless spam ads assaulting my web searches, the awful truth is: there are absolutely no hot single women in my area waiting to talk to me!  None!  It’s all a lie!  AHHHHhhhhhhhh! Distraught and disenchanted, I turned to the internet to search for my true popularity.  Wikipedia’s search results for Dave Atsals are as follows:

Dave Stalls, my ass.  I’m not a Query either, although I can belt out some show tunes when plied with enough alcohol.

My Google search for Dave Atsals resulted in this: did you mean Dave Astels? A few links to Discord articles also appeared, but who the hell is Dave Astels? Upset by this imposter stealing my thunder, I checked my real name.  After all, Dave Atsals is a sobriquet like all famous writer-folk and escaped convict types use (or even those few people, like yours truly, that happen to be both).   Again, my search revealed nothing—nothing but a few public court related documents. 

I did have much better luck with my YAHOO search.  Dave Atsals, pulled a lot of links to the Daily Discord, and that glory-seeking son of a bitch, Astels, was thankfully nowhere to be found.  My real name was actually linked to an Obituary, not my own, of course, at least I’m reasonably sure. 

I then decided to search the names of some of my friends and relatives, figuring this would make me feel better. WRONG.  The search of my father’s name pulled 30 hits, my mother 10.  Hell, when I searched my son’s name I got 15 pages of listings, and he hasn’t even been arrested yet.  For Christ’s sake my dog’s name got two hits.  Of course, that’s only because he bit my neighbor in the ass.  Sorry about that, Dad.

I then searched for some other things.  Famous Dave did not turn up any related articles, but I did spit out a great BBQ pit place that sounds worth a try, or perhaps a future franchise.  Any investors out there?  They even let kids eat free.  Famous Dave is also a porn star with a 10 inch accoutrement; couldn’t possibly be me (famous Dave falls a little short).

My search for Famous Dave Atsals didn’t even reveal anything in English.  But it did say “DO YOU MEAN FAMOUS DAVE ASTALS?”  Screw him, and, no, I’m not a gay porn star either.

I guess this writing thing isn’t bringing me the fame and fortune I duly deserve.  Plans are now in the work to gain fame the old fashion way, “on the cover of the Rolling Stone.”  I can see it now. I’ll buy five copies for my 10 hits mother.  Of course, the police news section is a far more likely spot to keep up with my antics. 

I did find some relief when I searched for Pokey McDooris, and Mick Zano.  Their names didn’t even pull up links to the Daily Discord. They did pull up some articles about tin cups, cell bars, and front steps, but that’s a whole other article.  Oh, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I get a call from Mick Zano.  Get this, he promoted me to marketing and sales manager about a day after writing this puppy.  Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, marketing manager of the Daily Discord.  Did you mean Daily Dischord?   Screw you, Zano!  Last time I listened to you I ended up with a storage unit full of Betamax VCRs.  There is some good news amidst this pile of ego shriveling horse dung.  Our old marketing manager is now working for Dave Astels.  Good luck with that Davey.  See you in the Obits soon. 

Very Dated Discord (the Cock Dilemma)

Dave Atsals

Cockfighting rings have been broken up in Phoenix Arizona, several of them since December.  The punishment, much like reading the Discord, is quick and severe.  Direct involvement can lead to a two year sentence, $150,000 fine, and decockmentation.  Just watching the cocks battle can lead to a $25,000 fine.  Fighting cocks is now illegal in all fifty states and is deemed by most (not including Michel Vick) to be socially incorrect in the modern age.

This has not always been the case.  In fact many prestigious figures in American History have been avid cockfighting enthusiasts.  Thomas Jefferson, while not pitching woo with indentured servants, was known to belly up to the cock pen.  George Washington liked to watch two cocks go at it. Andrew Jackson used to challenge his neighbors to match cocks.  Even Abraham ‘Cockcrazy’ Lincoln owned an entire flock of Gamecocks.  They all have their pictures on money, Washington is a favorite in my wallet.

Cock fights were an acceptable form of entertainment and sport, and nearly as popular as hockey is today (which isn’t that impressive).  The Bald Headed Eagle only beat out the cock by one vote to be are national bird.  I can picture our cock emblem flag flying proudly over government buildings and brothels.  “…and the cockets red glare…” (ouch).

These facts have led me to dig back through the ancient Daily Discord archives and search for articles relating to fighting cocks to see if any Discordians of old participated, or maybe even wrote with cock-feathered pens about the days of yore.  Apparently they did:

The Cock Dilemma

By Sir Wolfgang Atsals 1775

Horatio Zano and I keep putting it to the rest.  Benjamin Franklin has come with a potion he calls steroids from cow extract.  Horace and I have been quite effectively injecting our cocks with it (ouch).  Our monster cocks are just overwhelming all other participants. When Bald Cock Tony lets his tiny little cock out of the pen everyone laughs. Even that damn Irishman O’Tinno is in awe of our mighty cocks.  I whipped out a cock so big the other day a woman nearly fainted.    The problem is that although Horace and I have raked in a lot of silver lately, I feel the other competitors might bow out of the events.  Duel Wolfe is upset because his cock, although rarely used, has become limp and unable to participate.  Pete Winslow’s cock was killed, and Goober Crank’s cock would not even get back up into the cock ring. 

It brings into question the legitimacy of the “steroid question” and also that of money.  I do not feel we are cheating, but our cocks do have an advantage.  Our cocks are larger, very muscular, and generally more aggressive.  In the long run injecting our cocks may lead to the demise of the cockfighting ring, because the other competitors may drop out.  But, hey, better not to fight at all then to have your cock’s head bitten off.

 

Well there you have it; not only a past article on the topic but some very influential historians were involved in cockfighting as well as the Daily Discord.  It is hard to believe that cockfighting is being outlawed, but not the Discord.  Most past political icons certainly had a ball with their cocks.  George Bush, Nancy Pelosi, Barack Obama, and Hillary Clinton, the Daily Discord Nation respectfully challenges you to show us your cocks.

The Daily Discord: 2009 An Editing Odyssey

Dave Atsals

One contributor asked about the Discord’s submission and editing process, and no it wasn’t Pokey McDorkis.  He still doesn’t have internet access, or a clue.   L. Wolfe asked me, why hasn’t my article (sent to Mick Zano six months ago) been posted yet?  I explained to Mr. Wolfe, in true Discord fashion, the way an article makes it all the way from host to post. 

First off, after the realization that another article involving Thai Hookers is not what the readers want, Mr. Winslow approves the idea anyway.  The article is then written by one of our contributors, in this case L. Wolfe.  Typically the initial writing is done on bar napkins or coasters in a wide array of seedy establishments across our great nation.  The shredded rat’s nest of beer stained napkins is then handed off to me to decipher and type. This normally takes over a week, due to my inability to decipher or type.   Beware: blowing your nose carelessly before this first transcription phase can set back any given article several weeks. 

Mr. Winslow always says you go with the team of writers you have, not the team of writers you wish you had.  He’s a dick sometimes. 

The article is then emailed to Mick so he can fill in the unreadable words and the missing paragraphs that I failed to decipher. A week later I usually get an email requesting a resend due to “computer failure”.  My ass Micko; check your god damned recycle bin, jack ass. 

Two weeks later the article is emailed back.  I then print it out and begin what I refer to as Far Trek III: The Search for Poke.  Phoneless and rarely at home, finding Pokey is often harder than finding a skinny chick at Taco Bell.  I check the brew pubs, coffee houses, strip clubs, gutters, and massage parlors, often with no luck, well, luck finding Pokey.  He is often found smoking dung with the Ghetto Shaman under the Market Street Bridge. 

Recent events have made finding Pokey much worse.  He now has no roommate to point me in the right direction.  I also could not find him at home for two weeks due to the “Danger” tape wrapped around his entire residence.   It started as a small enough fire but got much larger during the period it took him to run to the local Denny’s to call 911.  (Did I mention he has no phone of his own and how dangerous smoke signaling can be?)

The article then spends a week with Mr. McDooris who eventually tapes it to his door for pick up (the door he didn’t char).  Smoke signals let me know that this phase of editing is complete.  This can be complicated, of course, by house fires and bad cooking.  Rain, sleet, snow, hail, and vomit normally need brushed and or scraped off the article at the time of pick up. 

Let the next round of deciphering, decoding and retyping begin.  Finally the article is done and is ready to be sent back to the original author for final approval. 

The article is then sent via email to our Chief Editor, Pierce Winslow.  This often involves the mysterious zamboni gypsies, especially when Mr. Winslow forgets to take his Risperdal, and another round of editing and losing of the article commences.  When everyone is completely dissatisfied and no longer cares about the content of the article, it is ready for upload to the Daily Discord.  When it is finally posted, sometimes months later, the process ends with someone saying “Oh Shit” after the realization that the original version has somehow been uploaded to the site.

Did I mention that, by hitting the ‘contact us’ button on our website, you too can be a part of this joyous and quite free epic process?  Send your article to the Daily Discord today!   Don’t waste another minute…that’s our job.

POSITION DESIRED: PRESIDENT OF THE DISCORD NATION

EDUCATION:

Faber College, PA: BS in Education (social sciences), with minors in marketing, industrial safety. BS, and a master’s degree in Anatomy by Brail.

I have studied the fine art of Commonsense (failed).

I have read three books (mostly).

I have a lifetime subscription to Hustler magazine, and have stayed in at least six Holliday Inns.

EMPLOYMENT:

(1998-present) I have worked in foreign relations. I have dealt with New Americans (NAs) as they try to manage convenience stores.  Most of these NAs do not speak English, have no business background, or the ability to count.  My role is to teach them common business sense, help them to embrace the American dream, and then take back their stores when they go bankrupt.

In the past I have been employed as a bartender, landscaper, dishwasher, inmate, High School Football Coach, and once made two dollars stripping, though not at the same time.

HOBBIES AND ASSOCIATIONS:

Ad-hoc lawyer, debater, writer, and normal American Beer Drinking Citizen (AB/DC).

As a bar room debater I have won over fifty debates by slipping out on the tab.

I lived for two years on small change from the town fountain, and pool hustling winnings.

REAL WORLD EXPERIENCES:

(See Hobbies and Associations)

ADDITIONAL EXPERIENCE:

Organizer and facilitator of over 100 social events (mostly keggers).

I have five years experience looking for Sasquatch, and recently began a quest to capture the Geico Money.

FUTURE GOALS:

To lead the Daily Discord Nation, using sarcastic wit and common sense, into national prominence with the ultimate goal of becoming the POTUS.  Then, with any luck, I will stop wasting my time searching for Sasquatch and the Geico Money.

Unemployment Compensation for Dummies

Dave Atsals

Only in Pennsylvania, although I doubt it, can you break a state law when you’re working, be convicted, and still collect unemployment compensation if terminated for this transgression.  The unemployment office recently ruled that a company, who fired an employee for selling cigarettes to someone under the age of eighteen, had to pay their unemployment.  The employee in question was trained properly, knew the policy and the law, and still sold cigarettes to a minor (not the cave dwelling kind, though that should be against the law too, like they really need it…sorry).  Anyway, they not only committed this crime, but were caught in a government run sting operation, cited, plead guilty in court, and were later beheaded (first offense).

Officials also cited the store for the employee’s incompetence, or blatant disregard for the law.  For this infraction, the un-employment board rewarded this individual unemployment compensation for losing their job.

For all of you dope-selling welfare-loving hippie-peeps seeking the services of Thai Hookers, or checking out the dailydiscord.com on company time, don’t be dismayed.  Get cited, get convicted, get fired, and get unemployment compensation today.

Please note: this was under the George W. Bush era.  Under the new Obama program, you no longer need to be cited and convicted, just fired.  Next you will not need to be fired, just tired of going to work every day.

Ohhh, if you’ll excuse me, some sixteen year old girls are trying to buy some Snicker bars…I think a pack of Marlboros on the house is in order.

$28.00

Dave Atsals

Can you pay $28.00 dollars for a knee brace sold on-line for $545.00 and feel ripped off?  I do, thanks to my last escapade with my son’s Orthopedic Doctors Office, and my insurance company.  Bring on government run health care, it can’t be any worse than this, I hope.

Please read this disclaimer before reading on:

[If you continue to read more of this article you may feel discomfort on the level of having a large non-vibrating instrument stuck up your ass.  You may also come to realize why your insurance rates are so high and why your Doctor, his accountant, every, and any, medical insurance agent, and of course the lawyers are all driving Hummers, and how we pay for them.]

I received a bill yesterday from my sons Doctor’s billing company for the amount of $28.00.  This was for a knee brace he needed due to some knee surgery.  One might ask, “So why does Mr. Atsals feel discomfort on the level of having a large non-vibrating instrument stuck up his ass?”

It is because of the first line which reads:

Charges Pay/Adj Bal. Due
$1142.00 $1114.00 $28.00

This is not a joke. The orthopedic office claimed $1142.00 from the insurance company for the knee brace which is on sale at www.braceshop.com for $545.00.  The insurance company then forwarded $1114.00 to the Dr.’s office and billed me the difference of $28.00.

On second thought it might just have been worth the $28.00 for the convenience of waiting a week for the doctor’s office to get the knee brace in and then being able to pick it up, instead of having it delivered, for free, right to my door.  After all if I paid for the brace myself and did not have the $598.28 taken out of my check for my insurance this month I would have pocketed $53.28 this month.  Hell for $81.28 I could buy Mick Zano a Hummer from his favorite Thai hooker.  (Note to Mick: 53.28 + 28.00 = 81.28).

The House Divided

Dave Atsals

Did you back McCain while your significant other supported Obama?   Do you reside in a house divided?  The hard fought campaign still stirs emotions to an amber-level alert.  Sirens blare throughout the nation.  Dinner tables are divided, left verses right.  Double beds are split by the McCain/Obama line.

My not so formal, non-confirmed, occurring sporadically except on X-mas, or NOSEX study proves recent political division has led to the total demise of three formally happy married couples (FHMCs).  Four couples are not speaking, and three others are not consummating the election results.  The fact that this study surveyed only 3 households garnishes suspicion, but, this is the Discord.

In the first house, the wife backed McCain’s anti-abortion stance.  That was all. Nothing else mattered!  Nothing else could have, because she knew nothing else. When I asked her about Earmarks and publically funded elections, she replied, “My tax money shouldn’t go to help people get their ears tattooed.”  The husband voted for Obama, believing that whatever the wife did, the opposite was for the greater good. Can you spell DIVORCE?  The wife couldn’t.

Moving next door to my hard core Republican neighbor’s house, I encountered the same split.  The woman of the house, for Obama, was worried about McCain’s age, and despised Palin.

The female voted for McCain’s experience and loooooved Palin, she stated, “Any one that old has to know a lot.  Besides, I like how Palin winks through the camera.”

They have yet to consummate the election results, nor speak to each other.

As I knocked on the third and last door of my informal survey, it swung open.  I tried not to look inside but couldn’t avoid seeing the election results being consummated right before my very eyes. (My Lord, how does a kitchen table handle such weight?) Later that evening my grandmother stated, “Your grandfather and I do not talk politics.”  Well I guess that explains it, so much for my ‘they really voted for Nader’ theory (TRVFN).

Divisiveness among political views has led to hard feelings, failed marriages, and ended friendships.  At local pubs, dive bars, and one gentlemen’s club, drunken debates (or ‘field work’ as they call it) have surfaced between Daily Discord contributors. These open exchanges of ideas rarely cause Flip Flops in stance. They lead only to hard feelings with no clear cut winner, except the one that yells the loudest and, of course, slips out leaving the bar tab.  It’s all fun and games until someone is barred from their favorite watering hole.

Obama has promised to reach across the aisle and bring everyone together.  In order to do this, he will have to start door to door, preferably at my house.  I will greet him with “Hello Mr. President.  Could you please get my friend Pokey back into Zenos, order Mick to attend Caffeine Anonymous meetings, and remove your line from my bed?  Oh, and one more thing, there are these outstanding bills at a place called the Bullfrog….”