This Isn’t Really A Goodbye

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Or is it? Do we ever really know? Do we ever really want to be the first one to say it? After some deep soul searching I have decided to give this whole blogging & social media thing a well deserved rest. It’s nobody’s fault, there isn’t a hidden agenda, or even a reason I won’t explain, since that is what I’m doing now. At first I was just thinking piss on it all and burn it to the ground. Who am I kidding, I know I’m just 1 blog of billions, and my lack of presence is just that, a lack of my presence.

Over the last 7 weeks I have come to the conclusion that I’m bored blogging, reading blogs, fooling with social media, and in a nut shell, the internet itself. This has actually been evolving over the last several months but I kept in the game, I kept swinging, and I keep getting the same result. Allot of it is that I’m lazy because it is a chore (for me personally) to write posts on my phone. Then I factor in time, a luxury for me as I don’t have much free time anymore, and when I do I discovered naps, which is good for me since I work 2am til 3pm 4 days a week, it has worn me out. Then, try to squeeze in having a family, a life, and so forth. Some of y’all get it I’m sure.

I would like to, however, give thanks to two people I consider my friends who I would have probably never met if it weren’t for this blog. We don’t talk much anymore but I just wanted to let Kris and Rex know that I really do appreciate them and what they have done individually to impact my personal life. My hat is off to you two wonderful women and I’m forever in debt to y’all. Both of y’all have my deepest gratitude, each for your own individual reasons. Don’t get me wrong, I have “met” some fantastic people over the years, even a few of y’all lucky fuckers in person. Every one of y’all need to crack the top off your favorite beverage and know I salute all of you.

My blogs will remain up and functional. I will still be looking at emails and so forth. Y’all probably won’t see me active on Google+, Twitter, or even Facebook much. I don’t know what else to say or even why I felt compelled to explain any of this. I guess it was to say I’m alive and well. Don’t worry, blogging is my damn dirty little bad habit, I’m sure I’ll be back one day.

Steven (aka Scorpion Sting)

Compulsive Behavior Side Effects?

More often than not we hear or read about me discussing taking personal responsibility and being personally held accountable for our words and actions. This post won’t be any different. I found it humorous that I was sent the link to the below information and shortly after reading it I heard a damn commercial for the same thing. Odd what we hear on the radio @ 02:30 am while driving my happy ass to work. Anyone, I would assume, who watches television or listens to the radio has seen or heard at least one Ambilify commercial. True or not? Having a son who suffers from mild bipolar disorder we have been bombarded with samples and prescription answers which will somehow magically transform behavior. I tell you from my personal experience, we don’t use my son for a testing ground so big pharmaceuticals can make their billions at the cost of my son’s mental well-being. So, when I saw this bullshit about the lawsuit towards the makers of Ambilify I merely smiled to myself because we all know there is not one single perfect medication with no side effects. While my son has never taken Ambilify, we did research it extensively, just as we have done with many others.

But why are we here right now? But why did I choose to write about it right now? It’s simple, this is another example of people who cannot be responsible for their own actions. It’s about people who blame someone else for their own behavior because they acted without self control. It’s because people want the quick fix. It’s about people who choose to not read the small print or they choose to ignore the small print. Yes, I find this lawsuit as being fucking stupid because people made bad choices but don’t want to take responsibility for their own decisions. But then we know in our society nobody is forced to be held accountable, it’s always somebody else at fault. Bullshit! If we fuck up we just sue someone because we can profit from our lack of responsibility. Or have we forgot that coffee from a fast food joint is extremely hot and will burn the fuck out out your crotch if you spill it? People are dumbasses. Let this be yet just one more example.

The following information was originally found here and provided by a leading contributor to The Scorpion Army. I don’t have any express or otherwise permissions to copy this story from the above linked website or to use it on my blog as part of a post which includes my personal opinion. Hopefully they understand I do not support the lawsuit efforts but do not hold the above website responsible for posting this story. In the end, if they wish that I remove it in part or completely it will happen swiftly and immediately. The two pictures were borrowed from the internet using Google. Remember, I neither gain or loose anything by sharing the following information, it’s just being shared because I found it truly interesting.

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Abilify has been linked to compulsive behavior side effects, such as pathological gambling, binge eating and hypersexuality. These behaviors are thought to be triggered by the neurotransmitters dopamine and serotonin.

One of the most popular treatments for a variety of mental disorders like depression, schizophrenia and bipolar disorder,  makes billions for Bristol-Myers Squibb and the Otsuka Pharmaceutical Company. It was the top-selling drug in the U.S. in 2013 with sales of over $6.4 billion. The drug works by either increasing or decreasing dopamine or serotonin in the brain when there is an imbalance, and this makes it useful for a variety of approved and unapproved uses.

However, the drug is also linked to disturbing compulsive behavior side effects that can wreak havoc on the lives of patients and their families.

Among these side effects, compulsive or pathological gambling can be financially crippling, and it can destroy lives. People in the grip of compulsive behaviors will do anything they can to continue the chosen activity, even if it means ignoring the rest of their lives and withdrawing from friends and family.

This side effect in particular may lead to lawsuits against Bristol-Myers and Otsuka America, claiming the companies did not properly warn patients and doctors of this serious side effect.

In addition, reports of other side effects include compulsive eating, shopping and even sex addiction.

How Abilify Causes Compulsive Behavior

While doctors aren’t exactly sure how Abilify (aripiprazole) works, they believe it acts on receptors in the brain for chemicals that regulate mood and behavior. These chemicals are neurotransmitters called dopamine and serotonin.

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When the dopamine system is stimulated in response to a particular activity, people will feel a high from it or a feeling of pleasure. This reward system normally ensures that we continue to eat and do other things we need to do to survive. In people with mental disorders, these systems are stimulated excessively, or not enough.

Researchers think Abilify may over-stimulate dopamine reward receptors in the brain – called dopamine 3 (D3) receptors – and trigger compulsive behavior.

Compulsive Gambling

Several case studies focused on a connection between aripiprazole and compulsive behavior, also called pathological behavior, especially in the case of gambling. One French study published in 2013 by Gaboriau, et al., examined several people who checked into a clinic because of their compulsive gambling behaviors. Study authors looked at eight individuals who took Abilify as part of ongoing medical treatment. Researchers found the drug caused seven of the eight patients to lose control of their gambling habits.

After discontinuing the drug or greatly reducing the dose, patients regained control of their compulsive behaviors, researchers wrote.

Another 2011 case study by Cohen, et al. found similar results in patients treated for schizophrenia. No patients in this study had a history of pathological gambling. Soon after taking the drug, they began gambling uncontrollably.

Similarly, a 2011 British study conducted by the National Problem Gambling Clinic found a relationship between Abilify and the drive to gamble in some patients. Doctors described one case in which a patient took the antipsychotic and “was preoccupied with thoughts of gambling and his gambling activity became both impulsive and involved extensive planning in obtaining funds to gamble, including the use of crime.”

Another patient said gambling became “a reason to live” after he took the drug.

In all cases, gambling problems resolved after discontinuing Abilify and switching to another drug.

Sometimes The Gift Bites Back

My recently married daughter and her husband have a habit of just picking up trinkets and t-shirts from gift shops when they are out tooling around in different places. Last night being no different, after a day spent in Old Town Spring, Texas going to shops and finally to dinner they returned knocking on the door to give me a surprise. Knowing I will try just about anything with some heat they believed they found the perfect gift for me.

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So now that you have looked at the picture I’m going to write out the label that can’t really be seen in it’s entirety. I warn you now that the language is quite colorful and might offend those of y’all who are sensitive to this kind of thing. But you know me, I like to share the things I find somewhat twisted and very interesting. The label reads as follows.

“We warned you. This is a seriously fuckin’ hot sauce. That’s right we said it — because we had to. There is no other way to describe just how hot this sauce is. I suppose we could have said “it’s like the fiery depths of Hell” or “that it’s ass-burning” and even “keep away from pets and small children and avoid contact with sensitive areas”, but that just seems so wordy. The sauce is hot as fuck! Succinct, to the point — no beating around the bush! Honesty is always the best policy, isn’t it? If this sauce burns intensely, don’t be afraid to let it out. Scream fuck at the top of your lungs. You’ll feel better. There is no better verbal therapy.”

Let me also include the short list of ingredients in case y’all can’t see them that great. They include habanero peppers, african oleoresin, scotch bonnet peppers, salt, onion, vegetable oil, acetic acid, garlic, and xanthan gum.

Here’s the big question y’all are begging to ask me, is it fucking hot? Not to deter from the awesome label and product description, but it was an average heat for a hot sauce. With that being said, I must admit I’m a bit jaded when it comes to heat. I grow, process, and consume a variety of insanely hot peppers down to the common pepper for flavoring bland food. What I really liked was it’s bold flavoring and the way it cinged my nose hair a bit when taking a deep sniff. However, for the rookies and amateurs it just might be a bit over the top. The average Joe might not want to toss the wings in this sauce and serve it up to family, I’m just saying.

My question to all of y’all out there would be, what do you find to be too fucking hot to consume?

As Requested By My Oldest Daughter

Before I really get into this post and the nature of my oldest daughter’s request, let me just say that this is quite possibly the strangest request I have ever been asked by anyone, ever. As many of y’all know, my oldest daughter lives in the state of South Dakota and will be getting married in the summer. Over the years we have maintained a very close relationship which allows us to talk about just about anything under the sun. Most times our conversation stays on the pretty straight and narrow, but last night I was asked to do something completely from out in left field. I don’t say that negatively, let’s just say it was a complete shock to me. It all started because we were talking about her wedding planning, more specifically what the dress code for me was going to be as the father of the bride. The reason for asking is this will be an outside wedding and the wedding party will be dressed really casual, not shorts and flip flops, but pretty casual to say the least. I was told how I dressed is up to me, now let me explain why.

The one thing that has troubled or plagued these wedding plans has been finding the “right” person to officiate the ceremony. It has been my understanding that they didn’t want a Justice of the Peace or a minister, no minister simply because they don’t exactly want it to be too religious. Now, I don’t think it will be a pagan wedding with a live sacrifice of a virgin, but something more free spirited. My daughter was born in the wrong era, being born in 1990, because she lives her life more like she was growing up in the late 60s, a modern day version of the flower child if one was to ask me. In the end, they claim no religious preference, knowing only there is a greater power out there that is bigger than all of the rest of us. Anyway, after discussing things in their own home they decided to ask me a “giant favor” and to see what my opinions were on something they believed would make their wedding very special. By now I will assume that y’all have looked at and read the picture, if not this would be a good time to do so. Once y’all do that then perhaps it will be easier to explain what was asked of me and, as of today, what I have “become”. Looking at my blogs and the way I live my life in the real world I would have never guessed that I would ever be witness to this event ever happening. I wonder if she remembers we have tickets to see Slipknot and Marilyn Manson the end of June.

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And that is that, in a matter of a few minutes I’m legal to marry couples in every state in the Union. Yes, this was the question I was asked. I was asked to be the one to preform the wedding ceremony. I know, weird, right? For right now, we are set, especially now that I made numerous phone calls this morning to find out if this is actually legal and legit. It was surprising to me to find out that my scenario is very common, especially in States recognizing same sex marriage. I did allot of digging, allot of calling, and allot of research, and I found that my signature on their license will be legal in all states and recognized in all states. Which is what my concern was, I wanted to be sure that this wasn’t wasting anyone’s time or getting anyone in legal trouble. I will post again on this topic later this summer after the wedding. I think I know what I’m wearing now, can we say tuxedo t-shirt?

Caption This Photo

We’ve seen some strange happenings in the real world and on the internet, some of which find themselves worthy of explanation. In my opinion, the picture I have provided for you today needs something said by someone. Are you the one with your thinking cap on today? Leave your caption in the comments and lets have a little fun today.

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We Live So Others May Die!

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There is no doubt that over the years I have collected my fair share of AMMO & IYAAYAS memorabilia. Until recently most of which sat in boxes collecting dust in storage. In a way it was me putting my past life to rest and eventually moving on to a civilian life. However, while thinning out boxes, repacking boxes, and deciding what stays and what goes, my wife and son got ahold of everything while I was working. When I came home much of the stuff was hanging on the wall of the hall leading to the master bedroom. It was both a shock and surprise to see most of it. When I asked why I was told that this stuff needed to be out, needed to be seen, and she thought I would appreciate the fact that they took the time to put allot of it on display. I do appreciate the effort, but if I wanted it out of the boxes then I would of done it a long time ago, but no, it remained boxed, hoping until I was dead at least.

I ate, breathed, and lived the motto “We Live So Others May Die” my entire Air Force career and when I got out, my priorities, opinions, and morality changed considerably. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my fucking job every single day, all day long, but once I got out, day by day it just stopped meaning the same thing to me personally. Trust me, there is no better satisfaction than seeing the munitions you had a hand in building get loaded onto an aircraft and not see them come back because when the pilot pulled the trigger the weapons functioned as designed. That was the beautiful part of my job. I always remained disconnected from the damage, death, and destruction because I was in the “supply chain”. We were never the one pulling the trigger.

One day, in an undisclosed place in the mid 90s, I got to witness the true power of what I helped create and happen. I didn’t care for what I saw. I became ashamed of the organization I belonged to. I made up my mind I didn’t want to be a part of it any longer. When I got out I was happy to see the Air Force in my rear view mirror. At that point everything, pictures, memorabilia, uniforms, paperwork, trinkets, and so forth, went into the boxes. I ask myself why I boxed them up instead of burning it all and my answers were clear, I had many great memories of places I had been, people I have met, and experiences I have had. It’s what we do right? We put our memories in frames, shadow boxes, and actual boxes, as keepsakes and so forth. I have always had trouble talking with people in person about my ” job” in the Air Force because it no longer held any “glory” for me. As an example, way back when I was married to my ex, she finally found out what I actually did for a living. Sure, she knew what I did, but she never put two and two together because I never spoke of my job to her, ever. Sure, I had friends doing the same job who we interacted with regularly, most with wives who were friends with mine, but work was never the topic. Then, one day I received a slap to the face as I got told she didn’t want to be married to a baby killer. Yea, I know.

Years later, many years, my boxes full of my past life resurface, now my current wife and 14 year old son have questions. Questions I don’t really want to answer. My wife on the other hand already knew the answers but felt if my son was asking me questions then I needed to be the one answering. How about……. I don’t know…….. maybe……. fuck this shit I don’t want to discuss anything. My son had but one question. He wanted to know what the motto “We Live So Others May Die” meant to me. I’m not going to lie, there were many minutes of silence on my part, as I watched my son reading that phrase over and over on different things now hanging on the wall. What does it mean, really? The simple answer, in my opinion, is that thru training, schooling, education, and brainwashing, we truly were the facilitators of death and destruction, part of a machine which promotes peace through submission. I took great pride knowing that I did my job exceptionally well. However, the me of today is ashamed in many ways to acknowledge that this, in another time, was my life. I should have just burned it all when I had the chance way back when, but I didn’t, lucky me. We also looked at my uniforms, he was particularly interested in my dress blues, as they were still adorned with ribbons, awards, tours, and accolades. Looking now, I had quite the rack. It’s meaningless now I suppose, only because I wonder what it was all for.

I am very proud to have served my country and have the deepest respect for all of the men and women who serve now, have served, or will one day serve. I know it isn’t easy, not during your service and definitely not afterwards, not everyone has an easy transition. The military changes who we are to be who they want and then turn us out back into society. I explained to my son the reason I visit two different Veteran’s homes and the Veteran’s hospital is because I like talking with veterans who don’t seem to have anyone to talk to. I’m not trying to help them nor solve their problems, I just listen and talk, we share our experiences, we smile knowing that we have friends within one another.

After a very long conversation with my son, about the good, the bad, and even the ugly, he stood up and hugged me, it was a deep and meaningful hug which brought tears to my eyes as he whispered that he loved me into my ear. He explained that he wanted me to know he loved me and will always be proud of his dad. He has been going hard at the AFJROTC all year and hopes to one day follow in my footsteps. As much as I would like to desuade him from this career path, I won’t, I want him to fulfill his dreams, I won’t allow my own experiences to be his burden. Don’t know if that makes sense.

I close this post with a final thought, we are who we are, it is what it is, we live our lives as we see fit, hopefully we find some happiness along the way. To all active duty and veterans, I salute each and every one of y’all!

Troubles With Being Troubled

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It troubles me a great deal that I have spent the last month cleaning out my storage unit and moving what we wanted to keep in what is now a spare bedroom since my daughter got married and moved out. The overall goal was to eliminate 90% of the shit we had in storage, keeping only what truly necessary. I did well, I reduced a 20′ X 20′ unit, packed to the gills floor to ceiling and wall to wall to a stack 3′ deep, 7′ wide, and 7′ or so tall. Also giving plenty of room for my bowflex and Arachnid arcade coin operated bar style dart board. The intent was to keep shit handier than 5 miles away. But I’ll be damned if it hasn’t already happened, I couldn’t find one thing I kept out to assist me in hanging some new shelves I recently built.

But no, it was MIA, until after 3 hours of searching, then to find out that even with a brand spanking new battery, my fucking stud finder has taken it’s final shit. Yes, I know I could have bought one and been done in the time it took me to locate this dead one, but it was the principal of it, I had one, and I’m a cheap bastard. Hence why I’ve depended on the same one for some 15 years or so. My shit must be broken before I replace it. Only this time duct tape and bailing wire cannot make this work. So, how did I lose it to begin with? Beats the crap out of me. I went from having a well equipped woodworking shop to 2 roller/stacker craftsman toolboxes, 4 tool chests, 4 tool boxes, and three 20MM ammo cans. Now that I write that out it seems a bit excessive, but the only tools I sold during the foreclosure 7 years ago were power tools like a table saw, lathe, router set up, 2 air compressors, a handful or air tools, and my 10′ clamps. I didn’t get rid of one hand tool or smaller electric tools. What I still have is my little gold mine. Figures the one Stanley product I own is the one that took a shit.

Eventhough I know where each of my tools are located, the stud finder found its way into a box with miscalanious shit my wife wanted off the dining room table, she didn’t know it was a “tool” when it was put away. Know something else? I have quite a large collection of knives come to find out, all of them in one place now makes it look a bit excessive, just saying. But, when one downsizes and condenses one’s belongings, one finds out he has some weird collection habits. So, in the end, I was forced to do things the old fashioned way. As a result, my shelf was hung without the aid of my elusive stud finder, and now that this little project is done its time to find more trouble to play with to keep me busy. Made me wonder tho, made me think back when I was being educated, that this occasion gave me an opportunity to share my knowledge with my son. Moral to this little story is that there is always more than one way to skin the cat. Sometimes one must rely on tried and true ways instead of technology and convenience. This entire episode taught me a valuable lesson, sometimes shortcuts fail and we have to rely on experience as well as being able to adapt to a changing environment, if we don’t know more than one way to do something then we are screwed. Too deep this early in the day? Anyway, on to the next project.