Jiminator's Journal

  I don't know if anyone ever reads anyone's journal, I seldom insert any words into it.

    Since my serious brain injury it has really changed me a lot, and I mean in many ways. The man that I was before the injury is gone, there is no doubt about that. Different tastes, different likes, dislikes, a vast number of differences. Being sarcastic, and joking around, that was not me.

  From introvert to big mouth, right handed to left handed, happy to angry, happy to very sad.

  I dream now, all the time, and I did not before the injury and the dreams are vivid, in color, with smells, sounds, and very realistic. Often times I remember them, and it is like my brain is desperate to dream about something, and it can only dream about the information that has been stuffed into it over the years.

   Last night I dreamed that I was in a line, a long line, to get a bar code on the back of my neck. Homeland Security and FEMA had taken over just about all aspects of government and they had done away with money, credit cards, checks, bank accounts, etc.
   Your right to purchase or obtain goods was completed controlled by Homeland Security, and the Bar Code System of Regulation and Administration.

   I had held out as long as possible, but I was out of food, gas, cigarettes, etc, so bar code it was.

    When I finally reached the end of the line, tilted my head forward and had a 2 X

3 inch square of hair removed, on the base of my skull, then proceeded to the next step in the process gave them my name and SS number the computer triggered and alarm and the bar code was stamped into my flesh and I was incarcerated for hiding money in a foriegn country!!!!!

  They took my wheel chair away from me and left me on the ground with my arm hand-cuffed behind my back, which was painful because of shoulder damage in earlier years.

  Finally they dragged me into the rear of the facility by my one leg, and I demanded to speak to a lawyer, the cop pulled out his radio and called the surgical staff to have my tonque removed immediately, and so I kicked the cop. He called them back and told them that they would also have to amputate a leg, that I was very dangerous.

   The door to my cell opened and it was Marine Corp Staff Sargeant at Arms Rick Gremont from Chicago, who had carried me from a pit in earlier years. He told me that man you just cannot stay out of trouble can you? He slapped the other guy and he just dissapeared?
    He picked me up, and carried me into the hallway and there was a wheel chair, on rubber tracks, about 4 feet high, with twin 30 cal. automatic displacement armor piercing machine guns on both arm rests. On the back of the chair it said Super Charged Red Neck WheelChair. The arm rests had a start button, gun trigger on both arm rests, guages on each arm rest, and showed a top speed of 50 MPH.

   Now if that is not some wierd shit, I just do not know what is, I am never watcing the SCI-FI channel again, I tell you that much.
   The chair was very comfortable though, custom formed padding on the seat to conform to my partial hip bone loss, and to support my right residual limb, hehe.