welcome back folks.
although we haven't heard the adventures of salis, a.k.a.desalio, a.k.a. joshua petersmith, in quite a long time, i assure you, they continue. and now,
without further procrastination,
a glimpse.
we join our lovable hero on a cold, rainy, november night.
boredom has beset him, and surgery looms over his head as either impending doom, or much needed salvation. hopefully the latter- he really needs the latter. his mood has changed like the weather; constantly and drastically. anymore setbacks or boughts with angst might seriously cause bodily harm to someone. the thought of being out of work for three more months, not to mention weeks and weeks of therapy trying to regain the hand function he'd only now achieved.
and,
during the last appeal process, (there have been several), the good people at workman's-comp decided in the favor of the injured worker, opposed the the lying-son-of a gun who doesn't want to come out of pocket, and allowed salis to have his much needed hand surgery.
but wait, it get's better.
the bwc awarded wages, no, ability.
ability to pay past bills, ability to work, ability to regain normalcy.
just a regular guy minus some digits.
hazah!
hold up dog- old boy wants to appeal again, procrastinating payment of dinero.
also,
he decided to walk by and mutter f- you to salis while the lawyers discussed whatever it is lawyers discuss,
prompting salis to follow him out of the state building, and challenge him to a duel- one handed style.
dickhead declined the offer.
people suck- so does bureaucracy.
anything that don't kill ya only makes you stronger- believe that.
