When Mr. B. and I lost our dental insurance and I discovered how expensive it would be to get another policy, I signed up for a dental discount service. Then I discovered it was mainly useful for the service with its $30 down and $15 a month.
Then I discovered that most people don’t have dental insurance. Possibly because dental discounts are easy to get if you pay up front instead of forcing them to ply an insurance company with paperwork and long delays. Just ask the dentist’s office manager. You might not get more than 10 percent off, but you never know. Especially if you write a check immediately.
So the so-called discount services are little more than a scam for the untutored. It got worse when I tried to cancel the subscription and discovered the “service” web site claiming not to recognize my sign-in and password. I had to go through my credit card company, instead, and ask them to deny the charges. They did.
Mr. Boy passed his DPS driving test Wednesday afternoon and is now a fully qualified, permanently-licensed Texas non-commercial automobile driver.
Later that night he made his first solo run in Mrs. Charm’s sedan to our local CVS to buy some Xmas stuff. Shrugged it off as being no big deal. But I doubt it. I remember my first one. He’ll drive the sedan henceforth because it’s an automatic and mine is a stick which he doesn’t know how to use.
The flying flurries on this here blog, I mean, a little something WordPress offers every winter season. And the closest Central Texas is likely to get to real snow anytime soon. Although it sure as hell has been cold the last few days.
We can thank the local Woolly Bear caterpillar, according to KXAN, which is predicting a cold winter. Fortunately things should be warming up over Xmas and into next week, at least for a while—good thing for Mr. Boy as he is off to Scout camp for a week in nearby Bastrop on the 26th.
The anti-Trump poop is getting really deep here in Lefty-land Austin. But this is a new one.
Picked up Mr. B. tonight after his Spanish club meeting. Drove past his favorite burger joint, a local shop called Wally’s. There, on Wally’s digital sign in big green letters: Pray For Our Nation.
Mrs. C. and I did too good a job, I said, meaning our time at the daily with its dominant Democrat reporting narrative and editorial viewpoint. The Democrats of course, are in low dudgeon and high smear as usual when they lose.
But Pray For Our Nation? Preposterous.
It’s the Hound of the Puckerbrush, and there’re no moors of any type down there with Andy in dryland southwest Texas. Nor is Sherlock Holmes lurking about on this Halloween night. And, lucky for Andy, in all probability no clowns neither.
Just another good essay on life as an oil field gate guard with a new dog and a whole year’s relief from “a worthless harridan,” which you could look up in his search function. Libel suits are not my thing.
As for the clowns, they are one reason I’m not enthusiastic about handing out candy this year and will keep the porch lights off here at the rancho. Yes, there have been a few clown sightings hereabouts, not specifically in our neighborhood but in the general geography. If one of them is going to get shot, this will be the night.
The presidential fandango is purely weird enough. Let’s hope for no shootings.
I’ve thought occasionally about using Amazon’s Prime Pantry food deliveries. But being just five minutes from an HEB makes it seem rather silly. Andy’s experience shows it could be more than silly:
“By the time it gets way off down here in the Puckerbrush a good half these cans are dented up and that box ‘o’ Pop Tarts looks like somebody been throwing a baseball at it. Just the way it is I reckon since I never recall receiving one single Prime Pantry box that somethin’ wasn’t boogered up.”
Hmm. This obviously requires some more thought.