So, I'm thinking it's time to put Monday Memories to bed. Scanning through the archives, there just isn't that much worthy of a repost...Hell, let's be honest, most of the shit wasn't worth posting in the first place.
Fear not, I'll probably come up with something nearly as inane to fill in the spot here on Monday...Hell, maybe I'll even write a NEW post every Monday or something!!
Showing posts with label Monday Memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Monday Memories. Show all posts
Monday, January 11, 2010
Monday, January 04, 2010
Monday Memories...Sweet 16!!!
As we close in on the end of the first year of the Obama administration, I thought I would share this post from July of 2008, and ask you to think about how things might have been different....
Apparently, I Will Not Be The Next Vice-President Of The United States
And that makes this a truly sad day for the United States Of America. Couple this news with the fact that we lost the feistiest of the "Golden Girls" yesterday,and I think the suicide hot lines should probably make sure that they are fully staffed for the next couple of days...Their phones are gonna be a ringin'.
How did this happen ,you ask ? Well, since you asked, I will tell you.
It's no secret that the Obama campaign has been considering me for Vice President, or Veep, as I like to call it, for some time now. What many of you might NOT know, is that all of this Veep talk started waaaay back during the primaries, and it started with one Hillary Rodham Clinton.
Now, Hillary has been in love with me for a loooong time.Those of you that have known me for a long time recall that back in the late 90's, she had rather an obsession with old Paticus. I worked as a volunteer on one of her senatorial campaigns, and, well, she liked how I..."licked an envelope" I believe is the phrase she used, and then arched her eyebrows in a way that made me both uncomfortable, and, if I'm being honest with myself, slightly aroused.
I told her that I already had a special lady, and she said something about whether my lady friend had a leather crotchless pantsuit with a matching mask, and I replied that, in fact, she did not. Just as she was climbing onto my desk, a group of other volunteers came into the room, and she backed away from me.
The come ons persisted for the next few months, as did my rejection, but that did not slow her down. I battled through it, finished the campaign, and went on my merry way, figuring it was finished.
But it was not. The e-mails soon started. And the naked photos. And the gifts. And the unannounced visits to my home AND my work.It was really getting out of hand, I tell you. Then, it all just stopped. I still don't know why, but it did.
Until a few months ago, when Hillary was running for president. I was kickin' it at the crib, and my cell gives me a little vibrate, so I answer it. It was one of Hillary's advisers, and Hillary wanted to meet with me about the possibility of being her running mate in the '08 election. I was, of course, flattered, but I knew what she really wanted, so I had to decline.
But get this, I guess news of the phone call reached the Obama camp, and they became interested in me.
I know all of this sounds bazonkers, but it's true. I'm guessing that maybe Obama, standing for hope and positivity and all, thought that my negativity and cynicism might be a strong contrast. I don't know. Or maybe he just wanted to "pale up" the ticket. I could not tell you.
What I CAN tell you, is that our meeting did not go well. We were not a good fit. For one thing, he did not appreciate that I kept saying "Obamaramalama" at the top of my lungs. And I guess the background check came back between the time we set the meeting and the time the meeting happened, because there were apparently some things in my past that did not make them jump for joy either. I guess Mr. Obama thinks the U.S., is not ready for a Veep with a past as an erotic entertainer. They were not impressed with the work of Miles O'Wood. Or at least they CLAIMED to not be impressed. I think I saw a few of the ladies on the Obama team shooting old Paticus the "look", if you know what I mean.
We also did not see eye to eye on a lot of the issues, and he definitely thought I answered waaay too many policy questions with, "Duude, I just don't care."
There were a few things that we clicked on, and I would not be shocked to see some form of my stance on marijuana make it into Obama's platform: Free and mandatory is what I called it, but I'm guessing the spin machine might come up with something catchier. But I think you'll recognize it.
So there you have it, I will apparently NOT be the next Veep of the United States of America. Unless....Hey Nader, gimme a call, dude.
Oh, the possibilities.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Apparently, I Will Not Be The Next Vice-President Of The United StatesAnd that makes this a truly sad day for the United States Of America. Couple this news with the fact that we lost the feistiest of the "Golden Girls" yesterday,and I think the suicide hot lines should probably make sure that they are fully staffed for the next couple of days...Their phones are gonna be a ringin'.
How did this happen ,you ask ? Well, since you asked, I will tell you.
It's no secret that the Obama campaign has been considering me for Vice President, or Veep, as I like to call it, for some time now. What many of you might NOT know, is that all of this Veep talk started waaaay back during the primaries, and it started with one Hillary Rodham Clinton.
Now, Hillary has been in love with me for a loooong time.Those of you that have known me for a long time recall that back in the late 90's, she had rather an obsession with old Paticus. I worked as a volunteer on one of her senatorial campaigns, and, well, she liked how I..."licked an envelope" I believe is the phrase she used, and then arched her eyebrows in a way that made me both uncomfortable, and, if I'm being honest with myself, slightly aroused.
I told her that I already had a special lady, and she said something about whether my lady friend had a leather crotchless pantsuit with a matching mask, and I replied that, in fact, she did not. Just as she was climbing onto my desk, a group of other volunteers came into the room, and she backed away from me.
The come ons persisted for the next few months, as did my rejection, but that did not slow her down. I battled through it, finished the campaign, and went on my merry way, figuring it was finished.
But it was not. The e-mails soon started. And the naked photos. And the gifts. And the unannounced visits to my home AND my work.It was really getting out of hand, I tell you. Then, it all just stopped. I still don't know why, but it did.
Until a few months ago, when Hillary was running for president. I was kickin' it at the crib, and my cell gives me a little vibrate, so I answer it. It was one of Hillary's advisers, and Hillary wanted to meet with me about the possibility of being her running mate in the '08 election. I was, of course, flattered, but I knew what she really wanted, so I had to decline.
But get this, I guess news of the phone call reached the Obama camp, and they became interested in me.
I know all of this sounds bazonkers, but it's true. I'm guessing that maybe Obama, standing for hope and positivity and all, thought that my negativity and cynicism might be a strong contrast. I don't know. Or maybe he just wanted to "pale up" the ticket. I could not tell you.
What I CAN tell you, is that our meeting did not go well. We were not a good fit. For one thing, he did not appreciate that I kept saying "Obamaramalama" at the top of my lungs. And I guess the background check came back between the time we set the meeting and the time the meeting happened, because there were apparently some things in my past that did not make them jump for joy either. I guess Mr. Obama thinks the U.S., is not ready for a Veep with a past as an erotic entertainer. They were not impressed with the work of Miles O'Wood. Or at least they CLAIMED to not be impressed. I think I saw a few of the ladies on the Obama team shooting old Paticus the "look", if you know what I mean.
We also did not see eye to eye on a lot of the issues, and he definitely thought I answered waaay too many policy questions with, "Duude, I just don't care."
There were a few things that we clicked on, and I would not be shocked to see some form of my stance on marijuana make it into Obama's platform: Free and mandatory is what I called it, but I'm guessing the spin machine might come up with something catchier. But I think you'll recognize it.
So there you have it, I will apparently NOT be the next Veep of the United States of America. Unless....Hey Nader, gimme a call, dude.
Oh, the possibilities.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Monday Memories....Volume the 14th
Here's a nugget from 2007...
Inappropriate Holiday Gift Item...
The "Fatal Attraction" Kitchen Set
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Inappropriate Holiday Gift Item...
The "Fatal Attraction" Kitchen Set
Monday, December 07, 2009
Monday Memories...Volume 13...
In honor of Tiger Woods and his recent struggles, I thought I would post a bit of my sordid past....This is from April of 2008....
I'm Sorry....
I know, I should have said it sooner, but I...Well, I don't really know what I was thinking. I seem to be saying both of those things a lot lately.
"Sorry." and "I don't know what I was thinking."
It's been an ugly couple of weeks, but I am here to apologize, set the record straight, and hopefully, begin the healing process and move on. Of course, I will need your assistance on the last two.
Where should I begin ? I guess the "pictures" are as good a place as any. I am sure you have all seen them by now, so I am not going to link to them here. But I will attempt to explain some of them.
First of all, I need to say that I greatly respect Annie Leibovitz, so when she says "You know what would be great, Paticus ? A picture of you in a tiger print thong, dry-humping a bearskin rug !", You go with it, you know ? She assured me it would look tasteful. And when she says" You know what else would look great ? If we put you, naked, in a bathtub full of baked beans with a ferret and Verne Troyer-It'll be like an homage to Tommy, The Big Lebowski and Austin Powers!!" You agree, because she's freakin' Annie Leibovitz, right ? Needless to say, the photos are not as tasteful as I was led to believe. And I certainly was not aware she was still taking pictures as I climbed out of the bathtub.
As for the videos popping up on the interwebs...What can I say ? A digital camera, three bottles of Ouzo, a Snow White costume and Neil Diamond's Greatest Hits are not a good combination.
As for the scantily clad images that have been posted on the web, those were taken by someone that I loved and thought I trusted, but that was clearly bad judgement on my part, and I do apologize for those photos as well.
Dear readers, I know how disappointed you must be in me. I know how much you adore me. how much you look up to me. How much you trust me. And I feel horribly that I have betrayed that trust and that adoration. I cannot do anything but beg your forgiveness. I am truly sorry. And I also want you to know that i will be checking myself into the Crossroads Treatment Center in Antigua, to receive treatment for my addiction to Benadryl and Vault Zero soda. With the love and support of my family, my friends, My Special Lady, and, of course, you, my dear readers...I will beat this damn thing.
Thanks, Crimestoppers.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
I'm Sorry....I know, I should have said it sooner, but I...Well, I don't really know what I was thinking. I seem to be saying both of those things a lot lately.
"Sorry." and "I don't know what I was thinking."
It's been an ugly couple of weeks, but I am here to apologize, set the record straight, and hopefully, begin the healing process and move on. Of course, I will need your assistance on the last two.
Where should I begin ? I guess the "pictures" are as good a place as any. I am sure you have all seen them by now, so I am not going to link to them here. But I will attempt to explain some of them.
First of all, I need to say that I greatly respect Annie Leibovitz, so when she says "You know what would be great, Paticus ? A picture of you in a tiger print thong, dry-humping a bearskin rug !", You go with it, you know ? She assured me it would look tasteful. And when she says" You know what else would look great ? If we put you, naked, in a bathtub full of baked beans with a ferret and Verne Troyer-It'll be like an homage to Tommy, The Big Lebowski and Austin Powers!!" You agree, because she's freakin' Annie Leibovitz, right ? Needless to say, the photos are not as tasteful as I was led to believe. And I certainly was not aware she was still taking pictures as I climbed out of the bathtub.
As for the videos popping up on the interwebs...What can I say ? A digital camera, three bottles of Ouzo, a Snow White costume and Neil Diamond's Greatest Hits are not a good combination.
As for the scantily clad images that have been posted on the web, those were taken by someone that I loved and thought I trusted, but that was clearly bad judgement on my part, and I do apologize for those photos as well.
Dear readers, I know how disappointed you must be in me. I know how much you adore me. how much you look up to me. How much you trust me. And I feel horribly that I have betrayed that trust and that adoration. I cannot do anything but beg your forgiveness. I am truly sorry. And I also want you to know that i will be checking myself into the Crossroads Treatment Center in Antigua, to receive treatment for my addiction to Benadryl and Vault Zero soda. With the love and support of my family, my friends, My Special Lady, and, of course, you, my dear readers...I will beat this damn thing.
Thanks, Crimestoppers.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Monday Memories...Volume 12!!!!
We're gonna go a little artsy-fartsy on you here...That's right, a poetry flashback!! Dig THIS:
How About Some Poetry Up in This Motherfucker ?
That's right...You heard me right...It's time to bust out some m-o-t-h-e-r-f-u-c-k-i-n-g Poetry in this blarg !!!( I heard the term "blarg" on "Miss Guided" the other night-I don't know if it started elsewhere, but that's where I heard it, and I think it's funny, so I'm a stealing it!).
Okay, so some poetry...Here we go....
How a bout some free form ?
Kibbles & Bits:
McGriddles, McChicken,
McYummy ?
McSicken ?
My socks hate my toes
I once heard a tree cry
Trident gum on my shoe
Smoke rings on your fingers
Aflame is your red hair
How come I never noticed
That you were burning there ?
Gloves imprison my fingers
where is spring ?
My glasses are smudged
They mirror my soul
e.e. cummings can kiss my ass.
Handwritten, signed copies available upon request
Thursday, March 27, 2008
How About Some Poetry Up in This Motherfucker ?That's right...You heard me right...It's time to bust out some m-o-t-h-e-r-f-u-c-k-i-n-g Poetry in this blarg !!!( I heard the term "blarg" on "Miss Guided" the other night-I don't know if it started elsewhere, but that's where I heard it, and I think it's funny, so I'm a stealing it!).
Okay, so some poetry...Here we go....
How a bout some free form ?
Kibbles & Bits:
McGriddles, McChicken,
McYummy ?
McSicken ?
My socks hate my toes
I once heard a tree cry
Trident gum on my shoe
Smoke rings on your fingers
Aflame is your red hair
How come I never noticed
That you were burning there ?
Gloves imprison my fingers
where is spring ?
My glasses are smudged
They mirror my soul
e.e. cummings can kiss my ass.
Handwritten, signed copies available upon request
Monday, November 23, 2009
Monday Memories Goes to Eleven...
Today's choice is a post from October of 2006...It's a post wherein I tell the tale of how I came to be an enemy of the arachnid community...I have managed to survive several years as a marked man, but I know that one day my luck will run out, especially living in the land of wolf and banana spiders...
Arachnophobia....
Okay, I don't know that it is a full blown PHOBIA, but I definitely have issues with spiders. I don't think I have blogged about this before, at least not in the detail that I intend to go into now, but I'm not sure. I went back into the archives and looked, but I didn't check every post, so if I did write this before, just look at this as version 2006, okay ? Thanks.
Spiders...Shit....I do not like spiders...And furthermore, I am rather convinced that spiders do not like me.
Why would I think that,you ask ? I will tell you.
The year was probably 95 0r 96, right around there. My Special Lady and I were at the Hughes supermarket in Los Angeles, California(before those Ralphs bastards bought it and RUINED IT) shopping for groceries, when we came upon the grapes. Now, I loves me some grapes..In fact, several times in my life, I have won impromptu contests to see who could fit the most grapes in their mouths at one time. Proud, proud moments.
Back to these particular grapes. They looked really really good, so we bought some. And we felt good about ourselves because they were pesticide free( I don't know precisely WHY that made us feel good about ourselves, but it did), and we went on our merry way. La-la-la-la-la.
Cut to approximately two hours later. We are back at Sandwich Flats West, all the groceries have been safely stowed in refrigerator and cabinets, and I decide that I want some grapes. Why, how fortunate it is that we bought some. Yeah, fortunate. Fortunate like a FOX !!! Wait, that doesn't make sense, does it ? Man, that sounded so cool, though. Perhaps it will catch on as a new catchphrase, alongside "Hellfuck".
So, I walk into the kitchen and get ready to wash the grapes. Colander ? Check ! Cold running water ? Check ! Bag of grapes covered in baby spiders ? Check ! Wait, WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!?! There was a spider egg sac that just broke open on the grapes. There are THOUSANDS of baby spiders running around on the grapes. The grapes I am holding in my hand.
Now, what happened next is not one of my proudest moments. I try very hard to not think of myself as a coward, but I think I may just be one. This is one bit of evidence. Not trying to disarm the guy who robbed my store at gunpoint is another(I'll tell you that story later), and I'm sure there are other instances, if I had the time, but now I must get to my spider shame. Can you guess what I did ? I shrieked like a cartoon lady scared by a mouse, and threw the grapes into the garbage disposal, and turned that fucker on. I committed a spider genocide. But that was not my biggest mistake that day, my friends...Oh no...My much bigger mistake was what I did next.
I picked the grape bag up off of the counter(that's not the mistake), and that's when I saw her...Their mother. The mama spider was looking at me with her thousand beady eyes. And I had a moment of weakness. I should have squashed her, just ended it all right there. No witnesses. But I didn't. I scooped her up on a piece of paper and put her outside. And I have been paying for that misguided act of mercy ever since.
She smeared my name all over SpiderTown, my friends. And since that day, I have found myself beset upon by more spiders than in all my days before "Pestcide Free Grape Day". I have found spiders ON me. In my car, in my backpack. I am constantly walking into webs stretched across my path. I have actually had spiders leap in front of me onto doors and such. One time, I was in the shower, and I saw a spider on the ceiling. When I turned my back on it, it started climbing down a web at me, but whenever I turned back toward it, it would scurry back up..IT WAS FUCKING WITH ME!!! I am an enemy of the Spider Kingdom, and it is not a good thing to be.
Why am I telling you this tale now ? Because I think the spiders might soon kill me. I was recently talking with one of the grad students here, who happens to live in the same apartment complex that I do. A complex that has more than a few spiders, I'll have you know. Anyway, I was telling him asbout the wildlife and the armadillos(both live and dead) we have seen, and how My Special Lady saw a 4 foot black snake(most likely a racer, we found out- another story I'll have to tell you, complete with gold chained pet store employee hitting on My Special Lady in front of me )and he proceeds to tell me that he's more worried about the Banana Spiders...He saw one the other day that was the size of his FIST !!! HIS FIST !!!!!!
Do you see what I mean ? I think the end is near for Paticus, his genocidal sin is finally coming home to roost.
Adieu.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Arachnophobia....Okay, I don't know that it is a full blown PHOBIA, but I definitely have issues with spiders. I don't think I have blogged about this before, at least not in the detail that I intend to go into now, but I'm not sure. I went back into the archives and looked, but I didn't check every post, so if I did write this before, just look at this as version 2006, okay ? Thanks.
Spiders...Shit....I do not like spiders...And furthermore, I am rather convinced that spiders do not like me.
Why would I think that,you ask ? I will tell you.
The year was probably 95 0r 96, right around there. My Special Lady and I were at the Hughes supermarket in Los Angeles, California(before those Ralphs bastards bought it and RUINED IT) shopping for groceries, when we came upon the grapes. Now, I loves me some grapes..In fact, several times in my life, I have won impromptu contests to see who could fit the most grapes in their mouths at one time. Proud, proud moments.
Back to these particular grapes. They looked really really good, so we bought some. And we felt good about ourselves because they were pesticide free( I don't know precisely WHY that made us feel good about ourselves, but it did), and we went on our merry way. La-la-la-la-la.
Cut to approximately two hours later. We are back at Sandwich Flats West, all the groceries have been safely stowed in refrigerator and cabinets, and I decide that I want some grapes. Why, how fortunate it is that we bought some. Yeah, fortunate. Fortunate like a FOX !!! Wait, that doesn't make sense, does it ? Man, that sounded so cool, though. Perhaps it will catch on as a new catchphrase, alongside "Hellfuck".
So, I walk into the kitchen and get ready to wash the grapes. Colander ? Check ! Cold running water ? Check ! Bag of grapes covered in baby spiders ? Check ! Wait, WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!?! There was a spider egg sac that just broke open on the grapes. There are THOUSANDS of baby spiders running around on the grapes. The grapes I am holding in my hand.
Now, what happened next is not one of my proudest moments. I try very hard to not think of myself as a coward, but I think I may just be one. This is one bit of evidence. Not trying to disarm the guy who robbed my store at gunpoint is another(I'll tell you that story later), and I'm sure there are other instances, if I had the time, but now I must get to my spider shame. Can you guess what I did ? I shrieked like a cartoon lady scared by a mouse, and threw the grapes into the garbage disposal, and turned that fucker on. I committed a spider genocide. But that was not my biggest mistake that day, my friends...Oh no...My much bigger mistake was what I did next.
I picked the grape bag up off of the counter(that's not the mistake), and that's when I saw her...Their mother. The mama spider was looking at me with her thousand beady eyes. And I had a moment of weakness. I should have squashed her, just ended it all right there. No witnesses. But I didn't. I scooped her up on a piece of paper and put her outside. And I have been paying for that misguided act of mercy ever since.
She smeared my name all over SpiderTown, my friends. And since that day, I have found myself beset upon by more spiders than in all my days before "Pestcide Free Grape Day". I have found spiders ON me. In my car, in my backpack. I am constantly walking into webs stretched across my path. I have actually had spiders leap in front of me onto doors and such. One time, I was in the shower, and I saw a spider on the ceiling. When I turned my back on it, it started climbing down a web at me, but whenever I turned back toward it, it would scurry back up..IT WAS FUCKING WITH ME!!! I am an enemy of the Spider Kingdom, and it is not a good thing to be.
Why am I telling you this tale now ? Because I think the spiders might soon kill me. I was recently talking with one of the grad students here, who happens to live in the same apartment complex that I do. A complex that has more than a few spiders, I'll have you know. Anyway, I was telling him asbout the wildlife and the armadillos(both live and dead) we have seen, and how My Special Lady saw a 4 foot black snake(most likely a racer, we found out- another story I'll have to tell you, complete with gold chained pet store employee hitting on My Special Lady in front of me )and he proceeds to tell me that he's more worried about the Banana Spiders...He saw one the other day that was the size of his FIST !!! HIS FIST !!!!!!
Do you see what I mean ? I think the end is near for Paticus, his genocidal sin is finally coming home to roost.
Adieu.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Monday Memories...Volume TEN!
In honor of my eyeglass troubles of last week, I thought I would re-share with you the tale of my first visit to the vitreo-retinologist. Enjoy!!
Well, They Promised Bright Yellow Urine...
And MAN, did they deliver...Who are THEY, you ask ? Why, they are the folks at my new opthamologist's office, of course. One of the dangers of diabetes is eye trouble, I think it has to do with blood vessels and such, I'm really not sure, I'm not that good a listener, except for when they say things like, "This may turn you urine a BRIGHT yellow."- THAT I heard, but I'll get back to that...
We recently(7 months ago now) moved to the Hassee from Chi-town, we also used to live in La-La-Land, and we grew up in Joisey, and we've visited the Big Apple, and I've always wanted to visit The Big Easy, and of course I dream of one day settling down in Old WaffleTown. But enough of me indulging my fetish for city nicknames, you people want to hear about URINE !! Perverts.
Okay, so I finally found an opthamologist here in the Hassee, because as my opthamologist in Chi-Town said,(I didn't have an opthamologist in La-La-Land..Or in...Just kidding) after I asked him if there was anything that I should be looking for..'NO !! YOU NEED TO COME SEE ME ON A YEARLY BASIS !!! BY THE TIME YOU NOTICE ANYTHING,IT WILL BE TOO LATE , YOU FAT, SUGAR -INTOLERANT BASTARD!!!!" Okay, I added the insult at the end, but he did yell the other stuff at me. It seems that a lot of DR's think that diabetics are too lazy to visit physician's regularly or to listen....Oops, I guess he's right on that one.
But I went to my new opthamologist on Tuesday, and I made my wife come with me, as I figured they would dilate my eyes, and I learned the hard way that I should not drive with dilated pupils. I tried after my last visit, and suddenly I was seeing everything from the perspective of Robbie Benson in "The Death Of Richie"( You know the TV movie where he gets all hyped up on dope and his Dad shoots him ? Haunting.) Thankfully, we don't have to wait that long.
So, I get called back and give them my history, and then the guy tells me he's gonna "numb my eyes."...I figure I misheard him...But no, he puts drops in my eyes to numb them. That's weird enough by itself, but then pushes this pen thing AGAINST MY EYEBALL !!!! It was like a baaaad acid trip, man. I could see it getting closer, but I was helpless to stop it...Was this how Richie felt that night in the basement, when he finally went over the edge and his Dad had to shoot him ? I bet it was...
I survived the pressure test, and then they dilated my eyes. I went out and sat in the "mood lighting" section with all the other dilatees...With our little tissues, occasionally dabbing our eyes. We didn't have to speak, we all knew each other's pain.
Suddenly, they called my name, and told me it was time to get my pictures taken. At first I thought, " Oh, I wish I had worn my blue shirt, it really brings out my eyes, and this humidity is KILLING my hair.", But then I realized that they were probably talking about pictures of my eyes, so I put my comb away.
And BOY, did they take pictures of my eyes. I had to put my chin on the the little rest, and lean my forehead against the bar, and then they took a flash photo of my eyeball. That felt good. Not surprisingly, I blinked when they took the picture of the other one. The technician was NOT happy. She finally got a good picture of my left eye, and left the room. I kept blinking, and wondering if the red circles would ever disappear from my field of vision.
They finally did, and then she returned. She said that since I was a new patient, and a diabetic, they wanted a FULL SET of pictures. The doctor had to be able to see if there were any problems in any of the blood vessels.
She then proceeded to explain that she was going to inject me with a dye that would...Blah Blah Blah...Now, this might turn your urine a BRIGHT YELLOW color. Huh ? "And your skin might turn yellow. And maybe some heart palpatations(sp?), and your kidneys may explode, and you may have an unexplainable urge to fuck a wombat, but I've never actually heard of that happening." Okay, she didn't say all of those things, I'll let you guess which ones she did and did not say. But she definitely did say the urine thing, THAT I know for sure.
I signed the waiver and she inserted the needle into my hand. Then she started taking the pictures. Now, I am a bit of an ocular flincher... I get uncomfortable watching someone ELSE put in contacts...So, this process did not go smoothly, to say the least. But, in my defense, she was also shining a bright light and then flashing light into my already DILATED pupils !! It was torture. And then, since I kept blinking, she had to take more and more photos. She was clearly getting pissed. My eyes were watering, and I kept expecting to hear her start doing an impression of Sir Laurence Olivier in "Marathon Man"..."Is It Safe !!??!??!"..."Is it Safe !!"... I just started confessing to things, hoping she would get the info she wanted..." I once stole a candy bar !"..." I was on the grassy knoll !!"..." I never had sex with that girl in Canada when I was 14 !! "..."What do you want to know ?!?!?"...But nothing would appease her...She just kept taking pictures, and poking me in the eye(to be fair, she was just trying to keep my lid open, but she had troll fingers, and she just kept poking me in the eye.)
Finally, it was finished...I apologized to her, she told me to get out of her sight, and I left the room weeping. Everything was purple. It was like I was looking through a bruise. I was shellshocked...I just sat in the waiting room, repeating the phrase.."The lights can't hurt me The lights can't hurt me." I was in the office for a total of three hours,I saw the Doctor for about 6 minutes. The rest was trauma and waiting.
The good news ? My eyes seem to be A-OK !! AND, when I was at work later that day and visited the restroom ? BRIGHT YELLOW URINE !!! I was pissing Mountain Dew, kids. They were true to their word.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Well, They Promised Bright Yellow Urine...And MAN, did they deliver...Who are THEY, you ask ? Why, they are the folks at my new opthamologist's office, of course. One of the dangers of diabetes is eye trouble, I think it has to do with blood vessels and such, I'm really not sure, I'm not that good a listener, except for when they say things like, "This may turn you urine a BRIGHT yellow."- THAT I heard, but I'll get back to that...
We recently(7 months ago now) moved to the Hassee from Chi-town, we also used to live in La-La-Land, and we grew up in Joisey, and we've visited the Big Apple, and I've always wanted to visit The Big Easy, and of course I dream of one day settling down in Old WaffleTown. But enough of me indulging my fetish for city nicknames, you people want to hear about URINE !! Perverts.
Okay, so I finally found an opthamologist here in the Hassee, because as my opthamologist in Chi-Town said,(I didn't have an opthamologist in La-La-Land..Or in...Just kidding) after I asked him if there was anything that I should be looking for..'NO !! YOU NEED TO COME SEE ME ON A YEARLY BASIS !!! BY THE TIME YOU NOTICE ANYTHING,IT WILL BE TOO LATE , YOU FAT, SUGAR -INTOLERANT BASTARD!!!!" Okay, I added the insult at the end, but he did yell the other stuff at me. It seems that a lot of DR's think that diabetics are too lazy to visit physician's regularly or to listen....Oops, I guess he's right on that one.
But I went to my new opthamologist on Tuesday, and I made my wife come with me, as I figured they would dilate my eyes, and I learned the hard way that I should not drive with dilated pupils. I tried after my last visit, and suddenly I was seeing everything from the perspective of Robbie Benson in "The Death Of Richie"( You know the TV movie where he gets all hyped up on dope and his Dad shoots him ? Haunting.) Thankfully, we don't have to wait that long.
So, I get called back and give them my history, and then the guy tells me he's gonna "numb my eyes."...I figure I misheard him...But no, he puts drops in my eyes to numb them. That's weird enough by itself, but then pushes this pen thing AGAINST MY EYEBALL !!!! It was like a baaaad acid trip, man. I could see it getting closer, but I was helpless to stop it...Was this how Richie felt that night in the basement, when he finally went over the edge and his Dad had to shoot him ? I bet it was...
I survived the pressure test, and then they dilated my eyes. I went out and sat in the "mood lighting" section with all the other dilatees...With our little tissues, occasionally dabbing our eyes. We didn't have to speak, we all knew each other's pain.
Suddenly, they called my name, and told me it was time to get my pictures taken. At first I thought, " Oh, I wish I had worn my blue shirt, it really brings out my eyes, and this humidity is KILLING my hair.", But then I realized that they were probably talking about pictures of my eyes, so I put my comb away.
And BOY, did they take pictures of my eyes. I had to put my chin on the the little rest, and lean my forehead against the bar, and then they took a flash photo of my eyeball. That felt good. Not surprisingly, I blinked when they took the picture of the other one. The technician was NOT happy. She finally got a good picture of my left eye, and left the room. I kept blinking, and wondering if the red circles would ever disappear from my field of vision.
They finally did, and then she returned. She said that since I was a new patient, and a diabetic, they wanted a FULL SET of pictures. The doctor had to be able to see if there were any problems in any of the blood vessels.
She then proceeded to explain that she was going to inject me with a dye that would...Blah Blah Blah...Now, this might turn your urine a BRIGHT YELLOW color. Huh ? "And your skin might turn yellow. And maybe some heart palpatations(sp?), and your kidneys may explode, and you may have an unexplainable urge to fuck a wombat, but I've never actually heard of that happening." Okay, she didn't say all of those things, I'll let you guess which ones she did and did not say. But she definitely did say the urine thing, THAT I know for sure.
I signed the waiver and she inserted the needle into my hand. Then she started taking the pictures. Now, I am a bit of an ocular flincher... I get uncomfortable watching someone ELSE put in contacts...So, this process did not go smoothly, to say the least. But, in my defense, she was also shining a bright light and then flashing light into my already DILATED pupils !! It was torture. And then, since I kept blinking, she had to take more and more photos. She was clearly getting pissed. My eyes were watering, and I kept expecting to hear her start doing an impression of Sir Laurence Olivier in "Marathon Man"..."Is It Safe !!??!??!"..."Is it Safe !!"... I just started confessing to things, hoping she would get the info she wanted..." I once stole a candy bar !"..." I was on the grassy knoll !!"..." I never had sex with that girl in Canada when I was 14 !! "..."What do you want to know ?!?!?"...But nothing would appease her...She just kept taking pictures, and poking me in the eye(to be fair, she was just trying to keep my lid open, but she had troll fingers, and she just kept poking me in the eye.)
Finally, it was finished...I apologized to her, she told me to get out of her sight, and I left the room weeping. Everything was purple. It was like I was looking through a bruise. I was shellshocked...I just sat in the waiting room, repeating the phrase.."The lights can't hurt me The lights can't hurt me." I was in the office for a total of three hours,I saw the Doctor for about 6 minutes. The rest was trauma and waiting.
The good news ? My eyes seem to be A-OK !! AND, when I was at work later that day and visited the restroom ? BRIGHT YELLOW URINE !!! I was pissing Mountain Dew, kids. They were true to their word.
Monday, November 02, 2009
Monday Memories...Number 9....Number 9...Number 9...Number 9...Number 9...Number 9....
Wow, is it Monday again already ? Time sure does fly.
For today's Monday memory, we have set the wayback machine to May of 2006. A simpler time, when we suffered a bit of craziness through the baby monitor...Enjoy, Crimestoppers!
That's Not Our Baby....
Okay, so Saturday afternoon,/evening My Special Lady and I both notice a high pitched whine/buzz/squeal emanating from the baby monitor...My first thought is..."Sweet Jesus,a lemur has broken into the babies' room and is attempting to carry them off into the forest !!"(sadly enough, that really WAS my first thought) But then I realized that they were in the living room with us, so that made the lemur attack MUCH less likely...Truthfully, I was a little disappointed, as I thought that defending the girls from a lemur attack might score me some major points with My Special Lady, and maybe, just MAYBE get me a special interest story in that holy grail of special human interest, PEOPLE magazine !!
But, I digress....So, just what the FUCK is that sound from the monitor ? I checked and our cell phones were not near it, so it wasn't that...I moved it around the room a little, didn't help any...Our ears were beginning to bleed, and we were going to soon act like extras from "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest"... Then we heard a conversation ever so faintly over the monitor...So we came to the conclusion that we were indeed picking up a signal from somewhere else...I tried all sort of permutations to try and fix the problem, I changed the channel on the monitors, I switched out the monitors with our "secondary" set(we bought a second monitor set to have one in the extra room, but that luckily worked with the first monitor, so we only had to use the speaker part)...Nothing worked...So we just figured that at some point the other machine(whatever, wherever it may be) would get turned off, and everything would be hunky dory.
WRONG !!!!!...Bedtime arrived(much earlier than I would like to admit) and we still had the War Of the Worlds sound effects record playing through the baby monitor, so we resigned ourselves to dealing with it overnight, and then going out on Sunday to try and find another monitor that might be less likely to pick up extraneous signals...Somewhere around 1 a.m, My Special Lady and I are both blasted awake by a SCREAMING, CRYING BABY !!! Our system is that we each have one of the twins each night, so we usually figure out who is crying, and then the person assigned will deal with the baby...Well, this scream was unidentifiable, so we both did the zombie walk ALL THE WAY TO THE OTHER END OF THE APARTMENT(which, if you are tired enough is really really far away !!) and enter the girls room, both of us secretly hoping that the baby crying is the other parent's responsibility for the evening...And we see that both babies are fast asleep...We both just kinda stared for few minutes, waiting for Allen Funt or Bob Saget to come out.
And then it occurs to my Special Lady..."That's not our baby" she says...And for a split second I though we were in a trailer for a new horror/thriller movie...Mother:"THAT'S NOT OUR BABY !!" Father: "Damn you, Genesis Project !!" Voice Over:Coming in May, "The Genesis Project:Who's Baby Is This?"...But then I realized what she was saying: we were picking up someone else's baby crying on our monitor, and man, they must have had the monitor tied to the front of the kid's face, because this shit was LOUD !!!! And it felt like it took the parents forever to come to the rescue...Luckily, that was the only incident that night, and the next morning, I realized that there was a channel control on the receiver as well as the monitor, and when I changed them all, we lost the whine/buzz/squeal for good...Huzzah for me for taking two days to figure that out !! And that is that story... Oh and by the way, this is my 300th post !!! Whoopeee !!! No, no don't get up...A standing ovation is not necessary...
For today's Monday memory, we have set the wayback machine to May of 2006. A simpler time, when we suffered a bit of craziness through the baby monitor...Enjoy, Crimestoppers!
That's Not Our Baby....
Okay, so Saturday afternoon,/evening My Special Lady and I both notice a high pitched whine/buzz/squeal emanating from the baby monitor...My first thought is..."Sweet Jesus,a lemur has broken into the babies' room and is attempting to carry them off into the forest !!"(sadly enough, that really WAS my first thought) But then I realized that they were in the living room with us, so that made the lemur attack MUCH less likely...Truthfully, I was a little disappointed, as I thought that defending the girls from a lemur attack might score me some major points with My Special Lady, and maybe, just MAYBE get me a special interest story in that holy grail of special human interest, PEOPLE magazine !!
But, I digress....So, just what the FUCK is that sound from the monitor ? I checked and our cell phones were not near it, so it wasn't that...I moved it around the room a little, didn't help any...Our ears were beginning to bleed, and we were going to soon act like extras from "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest"... Then we heard a conversation ever so faintly over the monitor...So we came to the conclusion that we were indeed picking up a signal from somewhere else...I tried all sort of permutations to try and fix the problem, I changed the channel on the monitors, I switched out the monitors with our "secondary" set(we bought a second monitor set to have one in the extra room, but that luckily worked with the first monitor, so we only had to use the speaker part)...Nothing worked...So we just figured that at some point the other machine(whatever, wherever it may be) would get turned off, and everything would be hunky dory.
WRONG !!!!!...Bedtime arrived(much earlier than I would like to admit) and we still had the War Of the Worlds sound effects record playing through the baby monitor, so we resigned ourselves to dealing with it overnight, and then going out on Sunday to try and find another monitor that might be less likely to pick up extraneous signals...Somewhere around 1 a.m, My Special Lady and I are both blasted awake by a SCREAMING, CRYING BABY !!! Our system is that we each have one of the twins each night, so we usually figure out who is crying, and then the person assigned will deal with the baby...Well, this scream was unidentifiable, so we both did the zombie walk ALL THE WAY TO THE OTHER END OF THE APARTMENT(which, if you are tired enough is really really far away !!) and enter the girls room, both of us secretly hoping that the baby crying is the other parent's responsibility for the evening...And we see that both babies are fast asleep...We both just kinda stared for few minutes, waiting for Allen Funt or Bob Saget to come out.
And then it occurs to my Special Lady..."That's not our baby" she says...And for a split second I though we were in a trailer for a new horror/thriller movie...Mother:"THAT'S NOT OUR BABY !!" Father: "Damn you, Genesis Project !!" Voice Over:Coming in May, "The Genesis Project:Who's Baby Is This?"...But then I realized what she was saying: we were picking up someone else's baby crying on our monitor, and man, they must have had the monitor tied to the front of the kid's face, because this shit was LOUD !!!! And it felt like it took the parents forever to come to the rescue...Luckily, that was the only incident that night, and the next morning, I realized that there was a channel control on the receiver as well as the monitor, and when I changed them all, we lost the whine/buzz/squeal for good...Huzzah for me for taking two days to figure that out !! And that is that story... Oh and by the way, this is my 300th post !!! Whoopeee !!! No, no don't get up...A standing ovation is not necessary...
Monday, October 26, 2009
Monday Memories...Volume 8.
I thought in honor of the upcoming holiday, that I would go back to a post from October of 2008 that contained some pictures of some past Halloween costumes.
I don't think it needs much more explanation than that. Enjoy
Paticus' Past, Volume 15 : Ghosts Of Halloween
Okay, in honor of Halloween, I have combed through the photo vaults at Sandwich Flats SouthEast, and I have come up with some of my past Halloween costumes. Unfortunately, some were apparently not captured for posterity. I do not have photos of me as Matt Foley the Motivational Speaker, Krusty The Clown, or Alice from Alice in Wonderland(for which I kept my full beard).
Here is what I do have:
Princess Leia(that is my real hair comprising the famous sidebuns), with My Special Lady as Charlie Brown in his ghost costume from the Great Pumpkin.
Me as Harry Caray(or more exact, will Ferrell's impression of Harry Caray, which I do quite well if I do say so myself), and My Special Lady as Fall.
Me as Obi-Wan Kenobi
Me as the Mad Hatter, with My Special Lady as a Goddess.
Me as Velma from Scooby Doo(the last time I was clean shaven, by the way), and My Special Lady as Marge Simpson
Finally, me as the Bride of Frankenstein.
A closer look at the hair- my actual hair, and the grey streaks are real.
And finally. my favorite pumpkin, ever- the Pulp Fiction Pumpkin..It looks like the pumpkin has been shot in the forehead, and it's brains are all over the window.
There you have it. Some memories of Halloween's past...
If anyone reading this happens to have any other Halloween pictures of Paticus, send em to me, would ya ? Thanks.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Paticus' Past, Volume 15 : Ghosts Of HalloweenOkay, in honor of Halloween, I have combed through the photo vaults at Sandwich Flats SouthEast, and I have come up with some of my past Halloween costumes. Unfortunately, some were apparently not captured for posterity. I do not have photos of me as Matt Foley the Motivational Speaker, Krusty The Clown, or Alice from Alice in Wonderland(for which I kept my full beard).
Here is what I do have:
Princess Leia(that is my real hair comprising the famous sidebuns), with My Special Lady as Charlie Brown in his ghost costume from the Great Pumpkin.
Me as Harry Caray(or more exact, will Ferrell's impression of Harry Caray, which I do quite well if I do say so myself), and My Special Lady as Fall.
Me as Obi-Wan Kenobi
Me as the Mad Hatter, with My Special Lady as a Goddess.
Me as Velma from Scooby Doo(the last time I was clean shaven, by the way), and My Special Lady as Marge Simpson
Finally, me as the Bride of Frankenstein.
A closer look at the hair- my actual hair, and the grey streaks are real.
And finally. my favorite pumpkin, ever- the Pulp Fiction Pumpkin..It looks like the pumpkin has been shot in the forehead, and it's brains are all over the window.
There you have it. Some memories of Halloween's past...
If anyone reading this happens to have any other Halloween pictures of Paticus, send em to me, would ya ? Thanks.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Monday Memories...Lucky Number Seven
Well, there's a bit of irony...Calling this post "Lucky Number Seven" of the Monday Memories, and it has to do with one of the more painful(both physically AND emotionally) moments of my life as a world class figure skater...Please, read on, from February 10th, 2006:
Damn The Olympics: A Tale Of Thin Ice...
So it's Friday here in the Hassee...Sorry, I guess you thought that was supposed to lead to something didn't you ? I do sincerely apologize, I was just stating the obvious...That's just the facts...It IS Friday here in the Hassee, Of course it's Friday all over the place...Let's see what else is there to say...Oh yeah, the Winter Olympics start tonight...And I don't give a rat's ass...That's right, I would not relinquish a rat's ass to watch the Olympics...Now, why I would ever be in possession of a rat's ass, I don't know...But I wouldn't give it away for the Olympics..I guess that's what I was saying...I guess I have never really understood that statement, I don't know why saying(or typing- as the case may be) "I don't give a rat's ass " means exactly, I understand that through usage and time the implication is that I don't care, but I don't get the literal correlation between caring and "giving a rat's ass".
Okay, that is enough of that, but back to my not caring about the Olympics...I might be able to care...If not for the "incident"....What ? I have never told you about the "incident" ? Well, shit on a shingle, y'all gather 'round here, grab yourself the beverage of your choice, have one of these here Nutter Butter cookies, and I'll spin you a yarn of Olympic proportions.
It all started 4 years ago, shortly after the last Olympics in...in...Wherever the fuck they were...I was at the rink, practicing my ice dancing with my coach Svetlana, and doing rather well, if I do say so myself...I had really come a long way since I had wrenched my knee in a hackeysack accident back in 1994(damn that rainbow colored ball of beads !!! Damn it straight to hell)...The healing path had been long and gruelling and winding and chilly and populated by naysayers, but thanks to the lovely Svetlana, I was almost all the way back to my pre-hackeysack condition...But I had also apparently attracted the ire of the other ice dancers, particularly James "Jimmy" MacDougal, whom Svetlana had dumped as a student in order to train me instead(what can I say ? I have great calves, they can be almost hypnotic), and for that, he blamed me...I was also unpopular for my bold musical choices..It seems that a 30 minute "Dark Star Jam" from the Fillmore by the Grateful Dead was not appreciated...And my replacement choice of "London Calling" by the Clash was not received enthusiastically either, but that one was at least allowed...But I regularly found graffiti on my locker, along the lines of "Fat Irishmen Can't Skate" and "London's Calling you a dickhead" things like that...But I was not deterred, I had promised a boy dying the hospital that I would win a gold medal, and damnit, no small minds were gonna stop me.Okay, well, he wasn't dying, he was actually in for a simple hangnail operation, but he was in pain and had low spirits just the same, and my gold medal promise sure put a smile on his face...And isn't that what it's really all about ? Smiling children ? I like to think so.
Sorry, where was I ? Oh yeah, the ice dancers hatred for old Paticus...Well, one day I was practicing with Svetlana, I was working on my basic choreography...The simple jumps, the arm waves, my jazz hands...And things were going really well, if I do say so myself...Until....I skated into the west corner of the rink in order to start my routine from the top, when my skate caught in the ice, pitching me forward and impaling me on a very poorly placed pitchfork..The tines of the fork lodged themselves in my left knee, effectively ending my ice dancing career...I broke down crying on the ice, both because I realized that my Olympic dreams were fading faster than the blood was pouring out of my wounded knee, and also because a pitchfork in the knee is a really painful thing.
A trip to the doctor confirmed what I had suspected, my ice dancing career was over...Svetlana quickly returned to training MacDougal, a move I understood, as she had Olympic dreams of her own...I couldn't begrudge her that...The IOC conducted an investigation into the incident, but they were going through the motions, they put that drunk Pulsipher on it, he couldn't find a zamboni at a hockey game, that hack, and surprise he found no incident of foul play...The IOC had won, and the pot stirring Irishman was off of Team USA forever.
But that was not the end of it, my friend Jessica Fletcher, the famous mystery writer happened to be visiting, and she noticed that the ice where my skate got stuck was a slightly different shade, and upon further inspection, proved to be coated with white raspberry slushie syrup, an exclusive flavor of Big Paul's Gas Station and Sipperia, who just HAPPENED to be the sponsor of one Team USA ice dancer by the name of James "Jimmy" MacDougal...Coincidence ? I think not !! And neither did the sheriff, he brought Jimmy in for questioning and the kid sung like a canary, but it turned out he was the small fish, the head of the Ice Dancing Federation had promised him the choice endorsements if he removed the "undesirable element"(i.e. - yours truly) from the Olympics...Well, it was small consolation to me and to that poor hangnailed boy, but at least justice was served in the end...And there it is my friends, the reason why I don't give a rat's ass about the Olympics...Here, have another Nutter Butter...They're shaped like peanuts, isn't that darling ?
Friday, February 10, 2006
Damn The Olympics: A Tale Of Thin Ice...So it's Friday here in the Hassee...Sorry, I guess you thought that was supposed to lead to something didn't you ? I do sincerely apologize, I was just stating the obvious...That's just the facts...It IS Friday here in the Hassee, Of course it's Friday all over the place...Let's see what else is there to say...Oh yeah, the Winter Olympics start tonight...And I don't give a rat's ass...That's right, I would not relinquish a rat's ass to watch the Olympics...Now, why I would ever be in possession of a rat's ass, I don't know...But I wouldn't give it away for the Olympics..I guess that's what I was saying...I guess I have never really understood that statement, I don't know why saying(or typing- as the case may be) "I don't give a rat's ass " means exactly, I understand that through usage and time the implication is that I don't care, but I don't get the literal correlation between caring and "giving a rat's ass".
Okay, that is enough of that, but back to my not caring about the Olympics...I might be able to care...If not for the "incident"....What ? I have never told you about the "incident" ? Well, shit on a shingle, y'all gather 'round here, grab yourself the beverage of your choice, have one of these here Nutter Butter cookies, and I'll spin you a yarn of Olympic proportions.
It all started 4 years ago, shortly after the last Olympics in...in...Wherever the fuck they were...I was at the rink, practicing my ice dancing with my coach Svetlana, and doing rather well, if I do say so myself...I had really come a long way since I had wrenched my knee in a hackeysack accident back in 1994(damn that rainbow colored ball of beads !!! Damn it straight to hell)...The healing path had been long and gruelling and winding and chilly and populated by naysayers, but thanks to the lovely Svetlana, I was almost all the way back to my pre-hackeysack condition...But I had also apparently attracted the ire of the other ice dancers, particularly James "Jimmy" MacDougal, whom Svetlana had dumped as a student in order to train me instead(what can I say ? I have great calves, they can be almost hypnotic), and for that, he blamed me...I was also unpopular for my bold musical choices..It seems that a 30 minute "Dark Star Jam" from the Fillmore by the Grateful Dead was not appreciated...And my replacement choice of "London Calling" by the Clash was not received enthusiastically either, but that one was at least allowed...But I regularly found graffiti on my locker, along the lines of "Fat Irishmen Can't Skate" and "London's Calling you a dickhead" things like that...But I was not deterred, I had promised a boy dying the hospital that I would win a gold medal, and damnit, no small minds were gonna stop me.Okay, well, he wasn't dying, he was actually in for a simple hangnail operation, but he was in pain and had low spirits just the same, and my gold medal promise sure put a smile on his face...And isn't that what it's really all about ? Smiling children ? I like to think so.
Sorry, where was I ? Oh yeah, the ice dancers hatred for old Paticus...Well, one day I was practicing with Svetlana, I was working on my basic choreography...The simple jumps, the arm waves, my jazz hands...And things were going really well, if I do say so myself...Until....I skated into the west corner of the rink in order to start my routine from the top, when my skate caught in the ice, pitching me forward and impaling me on a very poorly placed pitchfork..The tines of the fork lodged themselves in my left knee, effectively ending my ice dancing career...I broke down crying on the ice, both because I realized that my Olympic dreams were fading faster than the blood was pouring out of my wounded knee, and also because a pitchfork in the knee is a really painful thing.
A trip to the doctor confirmed what I had suspected, my ice dancing career was over...Svetlana quickly returned to training MacDougal, a move I understood, as she had Olympic dreams of her own...I couldn't begrudge her that...The IOC conducted an investigation into the incident, but they were going through the motions, they put that drunk Pulsipher on it, he couldn't find a zamboni at a hockey game, that hack, and surprise he found no incident of foul play...The IOC had won, and the pot stirring Irishman was off of Team USA forever.
But that was not the end of it, my friend Jessica Fletcher, the famous mystery writer happened to be visiting, and she noticed that the ice where my skate got stuck was a slightly different shade, and upon further inspection, proved to be coated with white raspberry slushie syrup, an exclusive flavor of Big Paul's Gas Station and Sipperia, who just HAPPENED to be the sponsor of one Team USA ice dancer by the name of James "Jimmy" MacDougal...Coincidence ? I think not !! And neither did the sheriff, he brought Jimmy in for questioning and the kid sung like a canary, but it turned out he was the small fish, the head of the Ice Dancing Federation had promised him the choice endorsements if he removed the "undesirable element"(i.e. - yours truly) from the Olympics...Well, it was small consolation to me and to that poor hangnailed boy, but at least justice was served in the end...And there it is my friends, the reason why I don't give a rat's ass about the Olympics...Here, have another Nutter Butter...They're shaped like peanuts, isn't that darling ?
Monday, October 12, 2009
Monday Memories...Volume Six
Okay, Crimestoppers...We have set the Wayback machine for January of 2006...This particular blog post features our old cat, Arlo. Arlo no longer lives with us. He decided that he did not like our infant twins, and he turned on them, so it was time for him to move on.He's happier now, living with a grad student, and killing squirrels and such. We miss him, but it really was best for everyone. He now gets every bit of attention he craves.
Anyway, here is an episode of Wild Kingdom:Tallahassee:
Wild Kingdom: Tallahassee
(The following tale is true...Names and details have NOT been changed...Fuck the innocent)
Welcome to Mutual Of Omaha's Wild Kingdom....Today we are visiting scenic Tallahassee...Home of this lizard we see to our left...You would think that as the host of a wildlife show, I might actually know what kind of lizard this is....You would, of course, be quite wrong...I haven't the slightest clue...He's a cute little bugger, isn't he ? I also don't actually know that it's a male, but in this phallic centric world of ours, why would I assume otherwise ? Let's just call him Ferdinand, shall we ? Okay. Well, in this photo, Ferdinand is clinging to the inside of one of the screens on the screened in porch of one Paticus, of Tallahassee...He seems pretty calm and serene, doesn't he ? And why shouldn't he be ? It's a nice sunny December day, and he has a nice piece of screen to hang from...Hell, there's even some nice juicy bugs around, which he may or may not want to eat,I really don't know... Again, I really have a very limited grasp of nature...But all is not well for Ferdinand...No it is not...There is danger afoot for Ferdinand...You might say, things are about to get WILD for Ferdinand...For Paticus is not the only resident of this house, no he is not...He lives there with his Special Lady, and their four month old twins...But that is also not of concern for Ferdinand...Oh no, there is another inhabitant of this house....A feline domesticus...A felinus domesticus ? What the hell is that ? Oh right, a cat...Well, why doesn't the bloody card just say cat then ? Feline domesticus...Honestly, Jim, what are you smoking ? Feline domesticus...If it's a god damned cat then bloody well say it's a god damned cat, okay ? Jiminy Christmas !!! Okay...Anyway, there is also a cat that lives there....His name is Arlo....One day Arlo and Ferdinand met...Let's let Paticus pick up the narration,
shall we ?
Paticus: Thanks Steve...
Narrator:Um, it's Marlon
Paticus: Sure it is...Anyway, the other day I was sitting on my couch in Tallahassee, Florida, enjoying cool, refreshing Diet Black Cherry Vanilla Coca-Cola and watching a Tivo'd episode of Alias, when I saw the cat running madly around the apartment...He does that pretty regularly, so I sorta ignored it...Then he attacked my shoe, so I looked down, and I saw a string by my shoe...Oh, how cute and cliche, I said to myself, my cat is playing with a piece of string...Then, something unexpected happened(well, unexpected by me, anyway, I'm quite sure that the cat was probably expecting it)...The string moved away from my foot on it's own ! Shazam, people !! Shazam, indeed!!! It took a few seconds for it to register, and then I believe I exclaimed to My Special Lady,(as I grabbed the cat) " Oh Christ, he's got that fucking lizard !! It went under the couch !! You want to hold the cat or try to catch the lizard ?"( If had thought about it, I probably could have added something dirty after that, but I was in the moment, people) She opted to hold the cat, so I handed him to her, as he tried valiantly to escape and complete his hunt, and went after the lizard...The cat must have stunned him, because I grabbed the lizard pretty easy(insert off color joke here, as well) and he didn't try to get away...I got him outside and put him on the sidewalk. Where he remained for the next 30 minutes or so...I was afraid that he might actually be dead, but when I went out the last time, he had moved into the grass, and this time I was unable to pick him up, as he took off when I tried...A few days later, he was back on the OUTSIDE of the screened in porch, and he was driving the cat NUTS...It was pretty funny... Back to you Mervin...
Narrator: That's Marlon, Paticus...I bothered to learn your name, you hippie idiot...
Paticus: What's that, Merlin ?
Narrator: Nothing...Thanks Paticus for that riveting tale of the hunt...And thanks to all of you for tuning in...Until next time...Let's all kill and eat something, shall we ?
Enjoy your Monday, Crimestoppers!!
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Wild Kingdom: Tallahassee
(The following tale is true...Names and details have NOT been changed...Fuck the innocent)Welcome to Mutual Of Omaha's Wild Kingdom....Today we are visiting scenic Tallahassee...Home of this lizard we see to our left...You would think that as the host of a wildlife show, I might actually know what kind of lizard this is....You would, of course, be quite wrong...I haven't the slightest clue...He's a cute little bugger, isn't he ? I also don't actually know that it's a male, but in this phallic centric world of ours, why would I assume otherwise ? Let's just call him Ferdinand, shall we ? Okay. Well, in this photo, Ferdinand is clinging to the inside of one of the screens on the screened in porch of one Paticus, of Tallahassee...He seems pretty calm and serene, doesn't he ? And why shouldn't he be ? It's a nice sunny December day, and he has a nice piece of screen to hang from...Hell, there's even some nice juicy bugs around, which he may or may not want to eat,I really don't know... Again, I really have a very limited grasp of nature...But all is not well for Ferdinand...No it is not...There is danger afoot for Ferdinand...You might say, things are about to get WILD for Ferdinand...For Paticus is not the only resident of this house, no he is not...He lives there with his Special Lady, and their four month old twins...But that is also not of concern for Ferdinand...Oh no, there is another inhabitant of this house....A feline domesticus...A felinus domesticus ? What the hell is that ? Oh right, a cat...Well, why doesn't the bloody card just say cat then ? Feline domesticus...Honestly, Jim, what are you smoking ? Feline domesticus...If it's a god damned cat then bloody well say it's a god damned cat, okay ? Jiminy Christmas !!! Okay...Anyway, there is also a cat that lives there....His name is Arlo....One day Arlo and Ferdinand met...Let's let Paticus pick up the narration,
shall we ?Paticus: Thanks Steve...
Narrator:Um, it's Marlon
Paticus: Sure it is...Anyway, the other day I was sitting on my couch in Tallahassee, Florida, enjoying cool, refreshing Diet Black Cherry Vanilla Coca-Cola and watching a Tivo'd episode of Alias, when I saw the cat running madly around the apartment...He does that pretty regularly, so I sorta ignored it...Then he attacked my shoe, so I looked down, and I saw a string by my shoe...Oh, how cute and cliche, I said to myself, my cat is playing with a piece of string...Then, something unexpected happened(well, unexpected by me, anyway, I'm quite sure that the cat was probably expecting it)...The string moved away from my foot on it's own ! Shazam, people !! Shazam, indeed!!! It took a few seconds for it to register, and then I believe I exclaimed to My Special Lady,(as I grabbed the cat) " Oh Christ, he's got that fucking lizard !! It went under the couch !! You want to hold the cat or try to catch the lizard ?"( If had thought about it, I probably could have added something dirty after that, but I was in the moment, people) She opted to hold the cat, so I handed him to her, as he tried valiantly to escape and complete his hunt, and went after the lizard...The cat must have stunned him, because I grabbed the lizard pretty easy(insert off color joke here, as well) and he didn't try to get away...I got him outside and put him on the sidewalk. Where he remained for the next 30 minutes or so...I was afraid that he might actually be dead, but when I went out the last time, he had moved into the grass, and this time I was unable to pick him up, as he took off when I tried...A few days later, he was back on the OUTSIDE of the screened in porch, and he was driving the cat NUTS...It was pretty funny... Back to you Mervin...
Narrator: That's Marlon, Paticus...I bothered to learn your name, you hippie idiot...
Paticus: What's that, Merlin ?
Narrator: Nothing...Thanks Paticus for that riveting tale of the hunt...And thanks to all of you for tuning in...Until next time...Let's all kill and eat something, shall we ?
Enjoy your Monday, Crimestoppers!!
Monday, October 05, 2009
Monday Memories...Volume Five!!!
Wow, is it Volume 5 of Monday Memories already ? Just amazing, I tells ya.
Okay, now I want you guys to sit down, because this one is gonna BLOW YER MIIIIIIIINDS!!!
It's just a silly little joke, but it's from the blog on December 11th, 2005....But I took it for the blog from something I wrote before the blog existed, waaaaaaay back in...(gulp)...1998!! Yer mind is blown, isn't it ? Just sit back, relax, maybe listen to some Allman Brothers...It will all be okay.
"I'm Living In A Powderkeg And Givin' Off Sparks"
I have a little revelatory tale to tell. It happened to me this morning while I was on the bus to visit my parole officer. This guy gets on with a walkman, and he's belting out some Leann Rimes.Normally, I get a little chuckle, and then return to my fantasies of winning a Grand Slam tennis title( Wimbledon, usually. I beat Monica Seles in straight sets and...oh, did I neglect to mention that in these fantasies I'm Patricia Byrne ? Well, that's not important right now.)But this morning, I felt this intense anger growing in my heart. Then, it slowly subsided. Unfortunately, it subsided to a point where I could feel nothing-No anger, hatred, love, pity, etc. My heart felt nothing. This worried me for a few minutes, and then it occurred to me what had happened: It was just as Bonnie Tyler had sung so many years ago- I had a Total Eclipse of the Heart.
Turn around bright eyes,
pjb
From The Pre-Blog Archive- 7/16/98
Happy Monday, Crimestoppers!!
Okay, now I want you guys to sit down, because this one is gonna BLOW YER MIIIIIIIINDS!!!
It's just a silly little joke, but it's from the blog on December 11th, 2005....But I took it for the blog from something I wrote before the blog existed, waaaaaaay back in...(gulp)...1998!! Yer mind is blown, isn't it ? Just sit back, relax, maybe listen to some Allman Brothers...It will all be okay.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
"I'm Living In A Powderkeg And Givin' Off Sparks"I have a little revelatory tale to tell. It happened to me this morning while I was on the bus to visit my parole officer. This guy gets on with a walkman, and he's belting out some Leann Rimes.Normally, I get a little chuckle, and then return to my fantasies of winning a Grand Slam tennis title( Wimbledon, usually. I beat Monica Seles in straight sets and...oh, did I neglect to mention that in these fantasies I'm Patricia Byrne ? Well, that's not important right now.)But this morning, I felt this intense anger growing in my heart. Then, it slowly subsided. Unfortunately, it subsided to a point where I could feel nothing-No anger, hatred, love, pity, etc. My heart felt nothing. This worried me for a few minutes, and then it occurred to me what had happened: It was just as Bonnie Tyler had sung so many years ago- I had a Total Eclipse of the Heart.
Turn around bright eyes,
pjb
From The Pre-Blog Archive- 7/16/98
Happy Monday, Crimestoppers!!
Monday, September 28, 2009
Monday Memories...Volume Four
Okay, so it's time again for the Monday Memories...So climb on in and let's travel on back to November of 2005, but how's this for a twist...the post is actually being written about sometime in late 2004! Did I just blow your mind ? You know I did.... Here we go.... November 19, 2005
Fertility Odyssey:Part 4: Who Would Believe Having One's Testicles Swabbed In Gel By An Attractive Woman Would Be This Unarousing ?
"Welcome back....Your dreams were your ticket out...Welcome back...To that same old place that you laughed about"...Oh John Sebastian, you sentimental old bastard...So, you have come back for more of the sordid true story of our journey to parenthood, eh ? Good for you...Not everyone has made it this far...Some people dropped off at the mention of vaginal fluids...Some after having the mental picture of Paticus having sex with anyone emblazoned into their brains(UNCLEAN !!!! UNCLEAN !!!!!!)...And I think a lot more fell to the wayside around the time of the sperm donation and prostate exam...But not you, you brave old fools...You have returned...
Was it the lure of the testicular ultrasound ? It's okay, you can admit it...It's a pretty enticing term, huh ? I was certainly intrigued...Would it be like the fetal ultrasounds I had seen in popular movies and on the television ? Would I be given a chance to individually name my testicles ? I mean, I certainly figured I would know them better than I ever had before, perhaps it would be proper to give them names ? Would I get pictures printed out to send to my friends and family ? "Dear Mom & Dad... Here are pictures of My Boys: Luke and Han - Happy Anniversary- Your son- Paticus"- That might be keen...Or it might get me institutionalized...But enough of my daydreaming...On to the ultrasound....
So, I arrive at the hospital and check in...Of course, the doctor has written the word "testicular" in such a way that NO ONE in the hospital can make it out, so at the registration desk, I get asked...
"I'm sorry, what kind of ultrasound are you here for ?"
"Isn't it there on the order ?"
"Yes, but I can't make it out, and I doubt that you are here for a trenchcoat ultrasound."
"oh....Yeah...It's A...testicular ultrasound."
"What's that ? I couldn't hear you"
" It's A...Well..It's A...testicular ultrasound that I'm in here for."
"I'm sorry, you mumbled it again...What kind ? "
And I SWEAR that she smirked at me !! She could read it, she was just gonna make me say it out loud. Well, here's where the Irish temper kicked in...And I said...
"I'm here for a testicular ultrasound !!! That's T-E-S-T-I-C-U-L-A-R !! That's my balls !! My Fellas !! The beans in the "old pork and beans" as they say !! Did you hear me that time ?"
"Yes sir, thank you...you need to go to radiology. That's down the hall, second elevator, up to the third floor and make a left after you get off the elevator"
"Thank you." I said, and walked off down the hall. Next stop: radiology !!
Radiology....On my way there, I started wondering if while I was in the radiology department, there might be some sort of explosion or radiation leak that grants me some sort of super powers...That would be kickass...I wonder if I would decide to be a superhero or a supervillian ? That would be a tough decision...I guess one would have to hope that there would be some sort of brain damage that would push me in one direction or the other...I wonder what powers I'll get ? Super strength...sorta pedestrian, huh ? Invisibility ? Now, that would be sorta cool...Or maybe I could get a whole series of powers...Maybe I could get ALL of the Fantastic Four's powers, and I could be Fantastic to the power of 4 ?...Okay, I just crossed a rather wide geek line there, didn't I ? Sorry about that...
I arrived at the radiology desk,and the lady behind the counter takes my form(why were ALL of the people I came into contact with on Testicular Ultrasound Day women ? It was like some combination horror/porno movie...Because being a man at heart(if not necessarily a man sperm count wise)my mind will always wander to the porn movies of my youth(okay, and young adulthood, and regular adulthood and middle age and...Well, you get the picture) and I start to imagine the attractive (female)Doctor or Nurse or Testicular Ultrasound Technician (or ALL three)saying something along the lines of..."Well, there's only one way to cure THAT." and that deep funk bass groove would start, and we would get bizzay !! And of course that is coupled with the utter embarrassment of the factual reason for my being there in the first place, and the sheer fear of having three women sexually interested in me at the same time.
But I digress...I arrived at the radiology desk, and the lady behind the counter took my form, looked it over and asked..
"What kind of ultrasound are you here for ?" I stared for a second, and answered....
"Testicular..." And sighed She typed up a bunch of stuff and told me to have seat.
"Paticus ?" The nurse said.
"Yep" I said.
" Okay, come with me" she said. And I complied and followed her to the ultrasound room, where my worst fears/fantasies were realized...The Testicular Ultrasound Technician was VERY attractive.
"This is Paticus" my guide said." And this is Lisa, she'll be doing your ultrasound today." I desperately tried to think of something witty to say...But most of the things that came to mind were just creepy("So, you come here often ?" " I hope you'll buy me a drink or two first.")...And that didn't seem like the way to start off someone who might quite possibly be handling my balls.
"Hello." I said.
"Hi" she said.
I'll skip the technical discussion and the how and why of my being there( But I will tell you that I think Lisa was hitting on me a little bit- yeah, right), and we'll get right down to the ULTRASOUND.
So, Lisa comes over to me with two rolled up towels." Okay, Paticus, what I need you to do is take off your pants, and climb up on the table, then I need you to put this towel under your testicles so that they sort of stick out over the end, and then you can use this towel to cover you penis( I ALMOST told Lisa that we were gonna need a bigger towel, but I didn't think that would go over well, and I didn't know that she would get the Jaws reference anyway)...I'll be back in a minute or so." And she pulled the curtain and walked away. Now, I don't know how many of you have ever tried to literally put your testicles on a pedestal, but it's not as easy as it might seem. It was a tough task, I'll tell you that. A mirror would have been a good thing, but I just had to wing it. I finally got it all set, and thank God I got it done before Lisa got back, because I think I would have been mortified if Lisa had come back and caught me, even though it was something she had asked me to do...I think maybe it's a catholic thing...
Anyway, I got my boys on display, and covered up the rest and Lisa re entered the picture.
" I think I got it set right." I said. Lisa glanced down and nodded.
"Yeah, that's fine." Then she pulled up a chair, put on her rubber gloves, and grabbed her tube of gel." Okay, we try and keep this warm, but sometimes it's till cold. I'm going to apply it to your testicles for the ultrasound."
"Okay" I said. Well, folks, Lisa was not kidding...That was some COLD GEL !! She had a soft touch, but who would believe that having your testicles swabbed in gel by an attractive woman would be this unarousing ? Which was good, because I was afraid I was going to have to explain why the second towel was so "active"...So, the ultrasound itself was pretty uneventful...I was actually able to relax a bit, which was good because it took like a 1/2 an hour. It was a little nervewracking because there was this sort of irrational fear that my "member" might escape from under the towel. But thankfully(porn fantasies aside) that didn't happen. All in all, it was a pretty uneventful testicular ultrasound, which I suppose is a good thing. Then Lisa turned off the machine, threw a towel at me and said "Clean yourself off, and get the hell out." Okay, she actually handed me a towel, and told me I could clean up.
Okay, so that's the tale of the ultrasound...See you next time...
Fertility Odyssey:Part 4: Who Would Believe Having One's Testicles Swabbed In Gel By An Attractive Woman Would Be This Unarousing ?Was it the lure of the testicular ultrasound ? It's okay, you can admit it...It's a pretty enticing term, huh ? I was certainly intrigued...Would it be like the fetal ultrasounds I had seen in popular movies and on the television ? Would I be given a chance to individually name my testicles ? I mean, I certainly figured I would know them better than I ever had before, perhaps it would be proper to give them names ? Would I get pictures printed out to send to my friends and family ? "Dear Mom & Dad... Here are pictures of My Boys: Luke and Han - Happy Anniversary- Your son- Paticus"- That might be keen...Or it might get me institutionalized...But enough of my daydreaming...On to the ultrasound....
So, I arrive at the hospital and check in...Of course, the doctor has written the word "testicular" in such a way that NO ONE in the hospital can make it out, so at the registration desk, I get asked...
"I'm sorry, what kind of ultrasound are you here for ?"
"Isn't it there on the order ?"
"Yes, but I can't make it out, and I doubt that you are here for a trenchcoat ultrasound."
"oh....Yeah...It's A...testicular ultrasound."
"What's that ? I couldn't hear you"
" It's A...Well..It's A...testicular ultrasound that I'm in here for."
"I'm sorry, you mumbled it again...What kind ? "
And I SWEAR that she smirked at me !! She could read it, she was just gonna make me say it out loud. Well, here's where the Irish temper kicked in...And I said...
"I'm here for a testicular ultrasound !!! That's T-E-S-T-I-C-U-L-A-R !! That's my balls !! My Fellas !! The beans in the "old pork and beans" as they say !! Did you hear me that time ?"
"Yes sir, thank you...you need to go to radiology. That's down the hall, second elevator, up to the third floor and make a left after you get off the elevator"
"Thank you." I said, and walked off down the hall. Next stop: radiology !!
Radiology....On my way there, I started wondering if while I was in the radiology department, there might be some sort of explosion or radiation leak that grants me some sort of super powers...That would be kickass...I wonder if I would decide to be a superhero or a supervillian ? That would be a tough decision...I guess one would have to hope that there would be some sort of brain damage that would push me in one direction or the other...I wonder what powers I'll get ? Super strength...sorta pedestrian, huh ? Invisibility ? Now, that would be sorta cool...Or maybe I could get a whole series of powers...Maybe I could get ALL of the Fantastic Four's powers, and I could be Fantastic to the power of 4 ?...Okay, I just crossed a rather wide geek line there, didn't I ? Sorry about that...
I arrived at the radiology desk,and the lady behind the counter takes my form(why were ALL of the people I came into contact with on Testicular Ultrasound Day women ? It was like some combination horror/porno movie...Because being a man at heart(if not necessarily a man sperm count wise)my mind will always wander to the porn movies of my youth(okay, and young adulthood, and regular adulthood and middle age and...Well, you get the picture) and I start to imagine the attractive (female)Doctor or Nurse or Testicular Ultrasound Technician (or ALL three)saying something along the lines of..."Well, there's only one way to cure THAT." and that deep funk bass groove would start, and we would get bizzay !! And of course that is coupled with the utter embarrassment of the factual reason for my being there in the first place, and the sheer fear of having three women sexually interested in me at the same time.
But I digress...I arrived at the radiology desk, and the lady behind the counter took my form, looked it over and asked..
"What kind of ultrasound are you here for ?" I stared for a second, and answered....
"Testicular..." And sighed She typed up a bunch of stuff and told me to have seat.
"Paticus ?" The nurse said.
"Yep" I said.
" Okay, come with me" she said. And I complied and followed her to the ultrasound room, where my worst fears/fantasies were realized...The Testicular Ultrasound Technician was VERY attractive.
"This is Paticus" my guide said." And this is Lisa, she'll be doing your ultrasound today." I desperately tried to think of something witty to say...But most of the things that came to mind were just creepy("So, you come here often ?" " I hope you'll buy me a drink or two first.")...And that didn't seem like the way to start off someone who might quite possibly be handling my balls.
"Hello." I said.
"Hi" she said.
I'll skip the technical discussion and the how and why of my being there( But I will tell you that I think Lisa was hitting on me a little bit- yeah, right), and we'll get right down to the ULTRASOUND.
So, Lisa comes over to me with two rolled up towels." Okay, Paticus, what I need you to do is take off your pants, and climb up on the table, then I need you to put this towel under your testicles so that they sort of stick out over the end, and then you can use this towel to cover you penis( I ALMOST told Lisa that we were gonna need a bigger towel, but I didn't think that would go over well, and I didn't know that she would get the Jaws reference anyway)...I'll be back in a minute or so." And she pulled the curtain and walked away. Now, I don't know how many of you have ever tried to literally put your testicles on a pedestal, but it's not as easy as it might seem. It was a tough task, I'll tell you that. A mirror would have been a good thing, but I just had to wing it. I finally got it all set, and thank God I got it done before Lisa got back, because I think I would have been mortified if Lisa had come back and caught me, even though it was something she had asked me to do...I think maybe it's a catholic thing...
Anyway, I got my boys on display, and covered up the rest and Lisa re entered the picture.
" I think I got it set right." I said. Lisa glanced down and nodded.
"Yeah, that's fine." Then she pulled up a chair, put on her rubber gloves, and grabbed her tube of gel." Okay, we try and keep this warm, but sometimes it's till cold. I'm going to apply it to your testicles for the ultrasound."
"Okay" I said. Well, folks, Lisa was not kidding...That was some COLD GEL !! She had a soft touch, but who would believe that having your testicles swabbed in gel by an attractive woman would be this unarousing ? Which was good, because I was afraid I was going to have to explain why the second towel was so "active"...So, the ultrasound itself was pretty uneventful...I was actually able to relax a bit, which was good because it took like a 1/2 an hour. It was a little nervewracking because there was this sort of irrational fear that my "member" might escape from under the towel. But thankfully(porn fantasies aside) that didn't happen. All in all, it was a pretty uneventful testicular ultrasound, which I suppose is a good thing. Then Lisa turned off the machine, threw a towel at me and said "Clean yourself off, and get the hell out." Okay, she actually handed me a towel, and told me I could clean up.
Okay, so that's the tale of the ultrasound...See you next time...
Monday, September 21, 2009
Monday Memories...Volume The Third
The weekly trip down memory Lane is going to take you back to June of 2005, June 12th, to be precise. I had some opinions to share about the state of movie sequels...Enjoy.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Sequels Gone Loco !!!!!Sequels....They drive you crazy ? They drive me crazy,I'll tell you that much....Of course, not every sequel, I mean, while I don't agree that The Godfather, Part II is better than Part I, it's still a great movie.And there are other worthy sequels...Terminator 2(and 3 for that matter) again, not better than the original Terminator, and pretty overrated, but still a good movie, Scream 2 and 3(though I guess that's technically a trilogy, like Star Wars or the three Beastmaster or Porky's movies...or the "Police Academy" octology),Gremlins 2:A New Batch,and of course, "Weekend At Bernie's II" which finally answered all those lingering questions from Weekend At Bernie's".
But for every good ,or in "Bernie's" case, necessary, sequel, it seems that there are a hundred unnecessary ones: "More American Graffiti", "Friday the 13th:Infinity","The Sting II"...That simply cheapen the legacy of the originals.
And while scrolling through my TiVo this weekend, I came upon just such a sequel...I ask you...Was it REALLY necessary to make "Chocolate Gazongas 6" ? I mean, I think the story was tied up rather neatly in "Chocolate Gazongas 5"...I just don't think that "Chocolate Gazongas 6" will add anything to this epic tale...I mean look at the description...""Enthusiastic women please lucky lovers." ? How lazy is that ? There's no mention of the continuation of the dramatic arc of "Chocolate Gazongas 1- 5...What the hell ? I mean, it seems as though director Cool Breeze G. is just sleepwalking through this one...Where's the emotion ? The human drama ? I mean, it says that Brown Sugar is the star, but will there be a further exploration of her craft fair booth that was in "Chocolate Gazongas 3" ? They dropped the storyline in parts 4 and 5, but that was due to the terrorism subplot, and that was pretty well played out by the conclusion of "Chocolate Gazongas 5"...I am nervous...I mean, sure, I'll watch it, but I do not have a great feeling about it. I think they may have returned to the well once too often, as the did in the "Nightmare On Elm Street" series, or the science fiction porn spoof series "Backside To The Future"...I certainly hope not...The "Chocolate Gazongas" series deserves a better fate...
Monday, September 14, 2009
Monday Memories...Volume Two
We had such an overwhelmingly positive response to last Monday's initial volume of Monday Memories, that we have already produced a Volume 2...And here it is!!
For this week's Monday memory, we will travel all the way back to April 20 of 2005 for a post that dealt with my disappointment and shock at not being installed as the new Pope.
Passed Over...
Well...I suppose you can all imagine my disappointment when I was watching CNN yesterday and they aired footage of white smoke emerging from the Sistine Chapel chimney..."That's odd" I thought" For them to be emitting the white smoke before officially offering me the position, or at least flying me back to Vatican City."
But I tried to stay positive, figuring that there was some sort of plan in place, that any second there would be a satellite news crew at my door, and I would be beamed across the world, introduced as the new pope...Pope Cody the First...I ran to the bathroom to run a brush through my rats nest and brush my teeth...and then I heard them introduce the new Pope...and they most certainly did not say Pope Cody the First...I was crestfallen...
What happened ? What went wrong ? I mean, I knew that my interview was not a home run. And I totally blew the swimsuit portion(who knew board shorts were out ?)...But I figured the Catholic Church was all about forgiveness, right ? And they would see through my interview jitters and my rough edges to know that I was Papal material...But I was obviously horribly wrong...
I mean, I understand now that it was probably not the best idea to lead with a joke(especially the one about Jesus being able to see Peter's house from the cross), but I thought it would lighten the mood a little bit(and besides, John Paul the II LOVED that joke). Obviously, I was wrong...And I admit it did not help that I spaced on the exact wording of the Lord's Prayer(it's FORGIVE us our trespasses) and could only name 3 Apostles.
But I thought that some of my ideas for the future really won the conclave back in my favor...They really seemed to like the idea of several scantily clad female fire eaters(the Pope-ettes) to accompany the Pope at all times...They liked the idea of changing the title from Pope to Pizzope to bring in the younger, urban Catholics...They seemed to understand that I was kidding about a sit down with Satan...I really thought I bowled them over with my interpretive dance as well, I thought it showed in lithe movement the words my heart could not say...And is it really such a bad idea to write another sequel to the Bible ? I think we are ready for the Third Testament...And I already have John Grisham and David Foster Wallace interested..If we could get Oprah to put it in the Book Club, we would be GOLDEN !!!!
And I stand by my belief that bringing in Greg Kinnear as the Papal Sidekick for me as Pizzope to bounce some one liners off of would really attract some new, funny Catholics...I think the Catholic Church is just terrified of change...And that surprises me...Well, I guess there's always the open head coaching vacancy with the New York Knicks...Does anyone have Isaiah Thomas' phone number ?
For this week's Monday memory, we will travel all the way back to April 20 of 2005 for a post that dealt with my disappointment and shock at not being installed as the new Pope.
Passed Over...
Well...I suppose you can all imagine my disappointment when I was watching CNN yesterday and they aired footage of white smoke emerging from the Sistine Chapel chimney..."That's odd" I thought" For them to be emitting the white smoke before officially offering me the position, or at least flying me back to Vatican City."
But I tried to stay positive, figuring that there was some sort of plan in place, that any second there would be a satellite news crew at my door, and I would be beamed across the world, introduced as the new pope...Pope Cody the First...I ran to the bathroom to run a brush through my rats nest and brush my teeth...and then I heard them introduce the new Pope...and they most certainly did not say Pope Cody the First...I was crestfallen...
What happened ? What went wrong ? I mean, I knew that my interview was not a home run. And I totally blew the swimsuit portion(who knew board shorts were out ?)...But I figured the Catholic Church was all about forgiveness, right ? And they would see through my interview jitters and my rough edges to know that I was Papal material...But I was obviously horribly wrong...
I mean, I understand now that it was probably not the best idea to lead with a joke(especially the one about Jesus being able to see Peter's house from the cross), but I thought it would lighten the mood a little bit(and besides, John Paul the II LOVED that joke). Obviously, I was wrong...And I admit it did not help that I spaced on the exact wording of the Lord's Prayer(it's FORGIVE us our trespasses) and could only name 3 Apostles.
But I thought that some of my ideas for the future really won the conclave back in my favor...They really seemed to like the idea of several scantily clad female fire eaters(the Pope-ettes) to accompany the Pope at all times...They liked the idea of changing the title from Pope to Pizzope to bring in the younger, urban Catholics...They seemed to understand that I was kidding about a sit down with Satan...I really thought I bowled them over with my interpretive dance as well, I thought it showed in lithe movement the words my heart could not say...And is it really such a bad idea to write another sequel to the Bible ? I think we are ready for the Third Testament...And I already have John Grisham and David Foster Wallace interested..If we could get Oprah to put it in the Book Club, we would be GOLDEN !!!!
And I stand by my belief that bringing in Greg Kinnear as the Papal Sidekick for me as Pizzope to bounce some one liners off of would really attract some new, funny Catholics...I think the Catholic Church is just terrified of change...And that surprises me...Well, I guess there's always the open head coaching vacancy with the New York Knicks...Does anyone have Isaiah Thomas' phone number ?
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Monday Memories....Volume One
That's right....Some of our female readers had some pretty strong reactions to the first installment of Meet My Socks...Strong enough that I have been spirited away to an undisclosed location for my safety and that of my family. So we decided to go in a different direction on Mondays..That new direction ? Backwards. that's right folks, on Mondays I will travel into the Archives here at Sandwich Flats, and share some Memories with you...Monday Memories...
Awwww...Isn't that sweet ?
Huh ? You think it's lazy ? You think I'm just recycling old posts...You could not BE more wrong, Mister Wrong Pants!!
What I am doing is traveling back through time, and taking you ever so gently by the hand, and taking you along for the ride. our destination today ? March 16th, 2005. Enjoy, Crimestoppers.
Coming Clean On Steroids
It's time...I need to move on...put it all behind me, and move forward...I was a steroid user...there, I have typed it out loud...you know what, I feel better...I truly do...it is as if a HUUUUUGE weight is lifted off of my shoulders- see steroids DO make you stronger ! Ha-ha-ha-ha...Just kidding...I'm sorry that was in bad taste...This is no joking matter...
Let me tell you the rest of my tale...I started using steroids when I was 12...I used them to gain an advantage over the other paperboys in the neighborhood...It was a cutthroat business, that newspaper delivery...you were always looking for an edge...a lot of the guys took speed, to get their papers delivered faster, but I didn't feel that faster was enough. I felt they needed to get there faster, but also with more force, and hopefully with an uncontrollable rage behind them, and 'roids was the way to do it. It was a crazy time...
Did the route supervisors know ? Sure they did. How could they not ? My head was the size of a zeppelin...But they didn't care, as long as the papers were delivered, they were happy, they just looked the other way...those bastards...I was an animal, man. I would growl and bark back at the dogs on my route...
And God help you if you didn't have the money for your paper when I came knockin'... I remember this one deadbeat, I'll call him Mr. Vanhosenlinden to protect his identity, but he owed me for three weeks of newspapers...if I don't come up with that money, it's taken outta my end...well, Mr. Vanhosenlindengives me some sob story about the death of his pet chinchilla and I tell him to save the sob stories for Phil Donahue, I want my money..."I don't have it" he says, so I crack him across the knees with a tire iron. Well, let me tell you, he found six bucks pretty fast after that, that's for sure. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
Anyway, I wish I could say the 'roids ended after I gave up the paper route, but that is NOT the case...no, after the paper route, my use only increased, because I joined the Future Gardeners of America...boy did it get ugly then...gardening is RIFE with drugs,man...It is a madhouse...Again, the 'roids were just supposed to give a little edge over the other guys, I wasn't the greatest hoer ortroweler, I was subpar at watering, but the 'roids changed all that..Who knew that gardening was all about pent-up and misplaced rage ? It was sweet...I was a gardening dervish, man...I kicked all of their asses, in a gardening sense, anyway...but, it got away from me there as well...One time, Mr.Cheehobaletoperin, our peer leader at FGA suggested that my soil might not be as aerated as it could be...and I lost it...I shoved his head into the soil, and he ended up getting 36 pounds of soil pumped out of his stomach...We did win at the Grand Fair that year, largely on the strength of my cherry tomato crop, but in the end, it just wasn't worth it...
There you have it folks, my horror tale of steroid abuse...I feel better for having shared it, and I hope you all will be able to learn from my mistakes...
Awwww...Isn't that sweet ?
Huh ? You think it's lazy ? You think I'm just recycling old posts...You could not BE more wrong, Mister Wrong Pants!!
What I am doing is traveling back through time, and taking you ever so gently by the hand, and taking you along for the ride. our destination today ? March 16th, 2005. Enjoy, Crimestoppers.
Coming Clean On Steroids
It's time...I need to move on...put it all behind me, and move forward...I was a steroid user...there, I have typed it out loud...you know what, I feel better...I truly do...it is as if a HUUUUUGE weight is lifted off of my shoulders- see steroids DO make you stronger ! Ha-ha-ha-ha...Just kidding...I'm sorry that was in bad taste...This is no joking matter...
Let me tell you the rest of my tale...I started using steroids when I was 12...I used them to gain an advantage over the other paperboys in the neighborhood...It was a cutthroat business, that newspaper delivery...you were always looking for an edge...a lot of the guys took speed, to get their papers delivered faster, but I didn't feel that faster was enough. I felt they needed to get there faster, but also with more force, and hopefully with an uncontrollable rage behind them, and 'roids was the way to do it. It was a crazy time...
Did the route supervisors know ? Sure they did. How could they not ? My head was the size of a zeppelin...But they didn't care, as long as the papers were delivered, they were happy, they just looked the other way...those bastards...I was an animal, man. I would growl and bark back at the dogs on my route...
And God help you if you didn't have the money for your paper when I came knockin'... I remember this one deadbeat, I'll call him Mr. Vanhosenlinden to protect his identity, but he owed me for three weeks of newspapers...if I don't come up with that money, it's taken outta my end...well, Mr. Vanhosenlindengives me some sob story about the death of his pet chinchilla and I tell him to save the sob stories for Phil Donahue, I want my money..."I don't have it" he says, so I crack him across the knees with a tire iron. Well, let me tell you, he found six bucks pretty fast after that, that's for sure. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
Anyway, I wish I could say the 'roids ended after I gave up the paper route, but that is NOT the case...no, after the paper route, my use only increased, because I joined the Future Gardeners of America...boy did it get ugly then...gardening is RIFE with drugs,man...It is a madhouse...Again, the 'roids were just supposed to give a little edge over the other guys, I wasn't the greatest hoer ortroweler, I was subpar at watering, but the 'roids changed all that..Who knew that gardening was all about pent-up and misplaced rage ? It was sweet...I was a gardening dervish, man...I kicked all of their asses, in a gardening sense, anyway...but, it got away from me there as well...One time, Mr.Cheehobaletoperin, our peer leader at FGA suggested that my soil might not be as aerated as it could be...and I lost it...I shoved his head into the soil, and he ended up getting 36 pounds of soil pumped out of his stomach...We did win at the Grand Fair that year, largely on the strength of my cherry tomato crop, but in the end, it just wasn't worth it...
There you have it folks, my horror tale of steroid abuse...I feel better for having shared it, and I hope you all will be able to learn from my mistakes...
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