I first wanted to mention St. Rita yet again. I have received more prayer requests and have added them into my novena. Again, please pray for my intentions as well. It is most appreciated.
Over two years ago my son and I came down with flu-like symptoms. This was February of 2020. We went to the doctor who ran a flu test and confirmed negative results. “It’s not the flu but we’ll treat it like it is,” he said. A few days later we were fine. And then the world ground to a halt.
I used to trust doctors. Anyone who spends seven years in school must know what they’re talking about. I even said this knowing about the Jesuits and the Legionaries of Christ. The minute they told us to stay at home and wear dirty cloth masks all bets were off. I haven’t seen a doctor since. I’m not just sucking up here but thanks to Ann Barnhardt, I got on the Ivy train early on and began to see a difference not only in my overall health (which was never bad) but also in my attitude toward modern medicine.
I simply do not trust a man who insists I wear a mask or pushes the death jab on me. And I won’t tolerate it.
Fun fact: Harvey is a pack-a-day Marlboro Man. I know it’s not good for me, except that it’s so mild and refreshing. And, it kept me out of Uncle Ted’s clutches so there’s that. I intend to quit one day soon. And believe me, you’ll all know because I’ll be a raging bitch. If you thought Bergoglio was on my radar before, that Argentine prick best be a-steppin’ is all I’m saying.
A few days ago, my older sister went to her doctor complaining of symptoms of indigestion. She’s 48. She’s also a fan of the tar. It’s just so damn smooth. But I digress. Yes, vascular disease runs in our family and whatnot. Still I think we were surprised to hear that she needed to go in right away to have a stent put into an artery.
She had the procedure this morning and is just fine, Deo Gratias!
Here’s where it gets interesting.
The doctors came in and gave her the usual “Ma’am, quit smoking for the love of God!” speech. And she was actually on their bandwagon until…
They insisted she pull her mask up for this convo.
And I realized just how dumb *most of them are. None of us are going to argue that smoking is good for you. However, I wonder if these same twits stand near a bedside and say…
“Sir, this monkey pox is going to kill you! For the love of God, stop butt blasting!”
I rest my case. Good night.
Seriously though, stock up on what you can. There are places where you can go. All things in moderation. Tobacco won’t be available soon anyway. But spare me the feigned indignation and false concern. I’d rather smoke a fag than listen to one bitch at me to wear a Masonic face muzzle.
St. Luke, pray for us!
Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad 