Thursday, February 28, 2008

Strange Brew

I was just chatting with Miss Rachel and she brought up something that I had totally spaced with regard to "the cocktail". it was an eye opener, and a bit distressing but not so much so that I'll be flushing the meds.

I'm basically taking Rat Poison to work my way to a healthier and happier me. Warfarin is the main ingredient in vermin killer. And as far as ingesting it, as long as it's not mixed with ground glass and peanut butter or cheese...I'm going to keep on pounding it down until Doctor Dik says I can take a break. Mind you I'd rather be getting my regular poison intake in depressant form in a bottle or 20 of suds.

Off until Sunday...lets see how the sober stiffs live on the weekend.

Cereal Killer

I tried to work my way around the cereal aisle today at the supermarket. I figure eat healthy for breakfast..actually imbibe some dairy products... make the new diet thing more beneficial. I haven't really been super interested in cereal for a number of years, and I definitely don't remember the concept of the cereal foods aisle. I usually just meander through that corridor in a different dimension, a pure out of body experience concentrating on frozen veggies or something. I couldn't fathom the idea that cereal could encompass two full store length shelving units 5 tiers high. It took me two hours to decide on Honey-Nut Cheerios. I must have walked back and forth upwards of 20 times.

I'm notorious for my indecision when faced with choices on a restaurant menu (when I go on dates, I find the menu online and try to make my decision before I even get there) I can't decide what to buy at a supermarket even with a list of necesssary items. I can't get out of a cereal aisle in less than a couple of hours. As I was exiting the new supermarket bain of my existance, my hand reached out on it's own and snagged a box of Cinnamon Life. Did I want that instead of the Cheerios..and subconsciously just grabbed it? Why couldn't I have painted it as a target to begin with and then swooped in for the kill saving hours of frustration?

The cereal will be sitting unopened on my counter for no less than 3months now that I actually have it. why did I want it again to begin with?

Todays Randomness


Todays Randomness is brought to you by, "the cocktail", the word pamphleteer • \pam-fluh-TEER\ • verb
*1 : to write and publish pamphlets 2 : to engage in partisan arguments indirectly in writings, and the number 8.

Acetaminophen 500mg
B6 400mg
B12 600mg
E 400mg
warfarin
Multi-Vit 1-A-day type stuff
~toss in martini glass, shake.... garnish with love and repeat twice a day. That ain't so bad.

I just have to avoid large amounts of vitamin K in foods such as liver, broccoli, brussels sprouts, spinach, Swiss chard, coriander, collards, cabbage, and other green leafy vegetables. Avoid Eating cranberries/ drinking cranberry juice, Avoid drinking alcohol,.Avoid sports or activities that could result in a bruising or bleeding injury. Use extra caution to avoid cuts when brushing your teeth or shaving.
Hopefully dodging these minor side effects:
skin changes or discoloration anywhere on your body;
purple toes or fingers;
pain in your stomach, back, or sides;
low fever, loss of appetite, dark urine, jaundice (yellowing of the skin or eyes);
diarrhea, fever, chills, body aches, flu symptoms;
easy bruising or bleeding that will not stop;
blood in your urine;
black, bloody, or tarry stools;
nosebleeds, bleeding gums, coughing up blood;
feeling weak or light-headed;
sudden headache, confusion, problems with vision, speech, or balance;
sudden leg or foot pain; or
sudden numbness or weakness, especially on one side of the body.
Less serious side effects may include:
nausea, vomiting, stomach pain;
gas and bloating; or
hair loss.
....and mixing with these could be fatal:
bromelains;
coenzyme Q10;
danshen;
dong quai;
garlic;<===========WTF! (death by tasty goodness?)
ginkgo biloba;
ginseng; or
St. John's wort.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Displacement



~Constructive thoughts sometimes involve: Toasted Focaccia, kalamata, artichoke puree', feta, babygreens, sushi rice, olive oil vinagrette, and blue fin tuna burger complete with roasted garlic, black pepper, and green onion.
Garnish with carmalized garlic reduction?! and you've got 3hrs of not thinking about a package.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Never thought

I never thought it would be beneficial to me ever, to continue to work at a dead-end jobby job. As of this moment, I welcome the time to focus my attention on something else. I recognize depression... it leads to me sleeping inordinate amounts of time. I usually fore go meals. I drink in excess. (me...drinking excessive amounts by my standards). 2 weeks have worked their way into my life without being invited, but I'm neither sleeping them away, nor hunger striking, I've curbed my booze intake => abstaining from it totally.

Just over a year and change ago, I was battling with addiction; I kicked Mr. Brownstone in the ass and sent him packing. At the time I lost enough weight to cause concern with my friends and relatives. (most didn't or don't know why I was wafer thin and that's ok) I'm not proud of that time in my life. I had steadily gained back some of the weight, and topped out at just under my all time high of 175lbs. I'm 6'2" and that's respectable I guess even though I never carry and mass.

A quick glance in the mirror this afternoon has me officially back down to skeletor, "I may be a sexy bitch in a hospital gown, but take me out of it and I look like a vampire" (I joke about this often... working the graveyard "almost" shift, never seeing the sun and whatnot) It's not funny anymore.

Granted stress can be a bit harsh on the system, losing 28-ish lbs in a week, is a Super Model's lucid waking wet dream to stardom. I eat regularly, I eat a Shit-ton of food, I eat healthy. A stiff breeze shouldn't lift me from the ground.

A nap would do me good right now.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Shock and Awe.

After 11days I've found out that.....

"I DO NOT HAVE THE CANCER" that being said, how about a little tale from my nutsack. (I'll be glib, and try to inject some humor into this cuz God knows I need a laugh right now) Seeing as how my nutsack has a front row seat to the malady...that's the best and most informed party to listen to. Before I go any farther, 1.) I'm a sexy bitch when I wear a hospital gown, 2.) Check your junk for problems on a regular basis, not just your boys....all of your junk 3.) I am frightened out of my skin and will be until such time as the doctors tell me I can finally take a deep breath and f*ck a hooker.

I'm single, 32, I work nights and haven't been in a relationship for the better part of a 5yrs. I'm just setting a tone here because Valentines Day 2008 was quite possibly the wreck of my mental stability for the rest of my life.

I woke from a dead sleep on Thursday morning with a priapistic erection that was nothing like the equipment that I've been tinkering around with for the last 22yrs. I know my intimate self, there was something completely wrong. Priapism is one thing, when it wakes you from a sound sleep and a portion of your 32yr old wang isn't engorged with blood, F*ckin bells and whistles go off. A trip to the ER sans Specialists had me worked into a frenzied state closer to catatonic. I was given anti- inflammaroties, and advice to get to a specialist, ice it down....yadda yadda.

Obviously when the erection dissipated I scrutinized the apparatus. (Appointment with specialist...no-one will see me until Tuesday morning) *graphic description comin'* Located just below and butted upagainst my Urethra and left corpora cavernosa was a lump about the size of a Ticonderoga No.#2 pencil eraser. Distal to that point my erectile tissue wasn't receiving blood enough to function. Bruising, swelling and a low throbbing pain round out the "good" aspects of what was happening. I'll keep the "bad" to myself thank you very much

I had a good long fester all weekend, continued to worry, freaked out on Saturday evening/morning....lost my shit on Monday evening at work "I have a lump in my penis and it's stopping blood flow? what if it's malignant?" "THEY're going to amputate the thunder donkey!" puke, vomit, full blown panic attack complete with faint, and numb extremities. {welcome to my thoughts...even though at this point the thunder donkey was more or less a sway back mule not good enough for hauling supplies to their destination.} I left work early and traveled to the fam's place.... They accompanied me to. Urologist number #1 [as an aside, I've had 6 more dudes touch my wang in the last week than I've had women touch me in the last 5yrs and that includes Julie the P.A, and Sue the R.N] Urologist #1. Dr. Schwartz, no joke, that was his name. He was about as helpful as a punch in the groin. His medical opinion you're fine, take some aspirin and call "when it gets worse" to a man who has never had problems in that area, telling him to to take two aspirin and call in the morning is not the way to go. Dr. Schwartz basically acted as though he was more interested in a delicious blueberry muffin and a large latte.... I was his only obsticle to said deliciousness. "F-him" Shaggy scheduled a second opinion but not until after he had to visit a GP, and have some more people play with his painful wang-doodle.

During the last 7days I'd had the opportunity to sleep for about 3hrs a night. Food? Forget it.

I forgot her name, but I'd like to apologize to the random nurse that was taking my blood pressure for the 20th time that asked me if I was "Nervous about anything" my pressure being a bit hi apparently. ~snapped, lost it!~

The last Dr. I visited was Friday morning Dr. Slatch he was informative, talked me through the Cat Scan info, spoke highly of the vascular surgeons in the hospital. (You don't need to know whether or not they did a biopsy on my lump /blockage, but you can imagine it's not a fun process if explained).

Diagnosis SHAGGYBOB's JUNK.
~At somepoint either in the recent or distant past there may or may not have been some trauma to the Corpora or not. Why this benign anomoly has appeared is up in the air. The lump cysted, plaqued over and pressed on vessels located around it. The entire process taking any amount of time between 5minutes and 32yrs. While rolling in my sleep with an erection, leverage was misplaced, pressure burst vessels, and I woke up screaming. Imagine a charlie horse. The immediate attack of white blood cells to correct the damage blocked blood flow. Erectile tissue was and is still compromised. Any further growth of scar tissue will further dibilitate blood flow. SO......my wang has officially busted, like a balloon. Signs and symptoms of Peyronie's Disease are the closest descriptions that the Doctor could give me. Although PD won't manifest itself until after the healing process is well on its way. They're saving the peel the banana and melon-ball out the bad stuff hypothesis until after a shot at un-invasive recovery. I guess this anomaly happens to a whopping 0.04% of the male population so it's not unheard of...although it is uncommon for folks to get treatment; even though the treatment is just a guesstimation of proper whatever, mostly due to a persons embarrassment/unwillingness to seek medical attention. I can understand that, but it just ain't me.

There are no specific medications that can help heal the problem. The doctor is hoping that a steady influx of blood thinners, B6 and B12, Vitamin E, and a few other additives and anti-inflammatories will make for a cocktail that will allow blood to reach the extremity past the obstruction, thus eliminating the possibility of necrosis. It's not a fixer, it's a prevention game now. He thankfully describe the process as thus. "They're pac-man drugs, they'll be eating away all the enzymes that could cause scarring, and inhibit platelets and stuff so that you're junk has a chance" Dr. Slatch dumbed his initial statement down after the deer in headlights flashed on my face. Due to the beneficial effects of the cocktail...of course you can imagine that there is a down side. And that is that the entire healing process is going to be exponentially retarded, as well as creating a veritable hemophiliac out of me.

I'm single, 32, I work nights and haven't been in a relationship for the better part of a 5yrs. I'm just setting a tone here because Valentines Day 2009 could quite possibly be the wreck of my mental stability for the rest of my life.

I've been told that any sexual activity will be detrimental to the healing process, I'm supposed to try not to A.) get an erection [I've had one already...it hurts, no REALLY IT FUCKING HURTS, I can steer my thought away from boners complete with sharp stabbing throbbing pains] B.) touch or Stimulate an erection should it manifest itself C.) Use my erection with a partner for sexual reproductive purposes [the potential for re-injuring and or causing more damage grows with intercourse...apparently it's a rough thing when you have completely squashed/smashed/nonworking blood vessels]... given that the healing process is retarded by the vitaminie drugged up cocktail this will go on for, but is not limited to, 12-18months from the date of injury. I don't have total ED, but the percentage is high enough to make me feel like a goddamned freak. Marvin Nash style from Resevoir Dogs "I'm fuckin deformed"

There are percentages of corrective manifestation connected to that time frame. These are the 3 outcomes: 33% Everything takes its sweet-ass time healing and all returns to normal. 33% the damage is permanent yet doesn't progress further, and "roll a 5 or a 6" the damage progresses to the point of being more dibilitative making it impossible to perform normal intercourse, blockage of the required pipes, necrosis, and corrective/reconstructive surgery is eminent. I'VE OFFICIALLY REMOVED THE DICE FROM The PARTY-IN-A-VEST. The what ifs are heavy. The why me, why nows are ripe, the WTF factor in my life.... is small...about the size of a ticonderoga No.2 pencil eraser.

So...there it is. I've walked away from being a cancer theorist. I've entered into a realm of dark, I-don't knowed-ness, and have a bit of a problem wrapping my mind around anything.

I'm single, 32, and until 12months from now, I don't know if I'll ever enjoy normal sexxy time again.

$1500
7 Doctors
4 cups pissed in
8hrs of paperwork
5 procedures
1 drug and vitamin cocktail
No difinitive remedy
No sexy time 12/18months


Hand spring, hand spring, round off, back flip, triple twist Tah DAH! (<= sits on ground and buries face in hands) Seriously... put your panties back on...I can't even if I want to.

It's tough to think about something 24/7 without overreacting, but I'm there. I'm not looking forward to any of this. It's amazing how the human body can change in an instant. I just wish I dislocated my finger instead...that would be a little easier to cope with. T-minus 354 days.

....."The lunatic is in my head
The lunatic is in my head
you raise the blade, you make the change
you rearrange me ' till I'm sane
you lock the door
and throw away the key
there's someone in my head but it's not me".........

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Hangin in.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Deleted post

I just spent an hour preparing a post that brought to light everything that is going on in my head with respect to a medical anomaly that has recently presented itself in my body. I had to erase it, because even I didn't feel comfortable with the post. I wouldn't feel bad or even the least hesitation to let you know I vommited and sharted my pants driving down the highway, most embarrassing things are fruitless and give me a good chuckle; I'm not shy. I am uncomfortable. I was using terms like Laparoscopy and Robotics, Oncology, Shock Wave Lithotripsy and other big terms that scare the livin baJesus out of me even if I have relatively no clue as to what they are and or how invasive they may be. Since Thursday it has weighed heavily on my mind (that's when I noticed the problem...) and even though I had a bunch of folks over the eat drink and be merry this weekend, now that they're gone and my place is empty again I get to run through all the scenarios in my melon and freak out some more. Thank you Ray, The Jill, Gonzo, D, Steve and Rachel for coming over and making the weekend shite tons of fun.

I'm headed to a specialist tommorrow. They're going to tell me what, exactly what the problem is or schedule a battery of tests and stuff. Coupled with the pain, there is a pretty f-in huge psychological shot to go with whatever the diagnosis is. No matter what happens there will be a benign/malignant mass, scar tissue, or chemo-cal shock in my immediate future. Making the equipment that I'm used to tinkering around with; different forever. That in an of itself is enough to drop me thoroughly off the deep end. I don't want to lose the physical ability to enjoy sexxy time...

I'm not looking forward to tommorrow at all. Or am I...knowing that there will be a definition labeling the issues at hand.

I'd like to thank you individually Miss Rachel for sitting up with me all night and listening to be whine, bitch and moan, hearing the why me-s, and the wtf is going to happen naysayer dark brooding ShaggyBob. I was a mess.






I'M SCARED

Friday, February 15, 2008

ShaggyBob's Self-Help hints of the Moment

ShaggyBob's Self-Help hints of the Moment:

OLD AND BUSTED: Carrying a weapon into a learning institution and killing innocent people; because you think the world slighted you in someway, before offing yourself.

NEW HOTNESS: Offing yourself before getting to said institution and saving the world from your pathetic existance.

If everyone in the world; me included, decided it was a good idea to go on a killing spree everytime something happened that we didn't see eye to eye with. Only the hermits would survive and there would be a lot of dead squirrels. Here's a little helpful hint to all you mutts that have a propensity for random acts of violence when not getting your own way. "Either you need to build a huge fuckin time-out chair for yourself and sit in IT!, or....give yourself an attitude adjustment"

Attitude adjustments appendix:

For beginners,
1.) Punch yourself a few times in the testicles or ovaries. It should give you a moment of clarity.
2.) Have your imaginary friend deliver #1 for you. It should give you a moment of de-mystification.

For the sullen,
3.) Breathe deeply and think about a third world country and a house made out of discarded cardboard boxes and the millions of flies you don't have to deal with as you are not eating fetid foodstuffs.It should give you some perspective.

For the habitual assholes in the world.......
4.) Try Sticking one thumb in your mouth and the other in yer ass <=> rotate in different directions at the same time. "If that doesn't straighten you the fuck out. Fly solo, get the gun, sit on your couch, have some apple juice, eat a poptart, and spatter you own damn ceiling." Leave the rest of us out of it.

Recap: Clarify, Demystify, Perspective, Poptarts

That being said, I'm off the grid "intarwebb-wise" until Monday this week. The Oasis is open for business. See the below E-flyer and kick me a call or text if you're within striking distance. Leave the poptarts at home.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Debauchery


"If you're not there,
....you're in the wrong place"

~Try not to sit in any wet oil paint~

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Two nights

Two nights of running the show for the Gaz are on tap. As much as I love the pay, and the overabundance of extra responsibility. The pay hasn't changed, and the overabundance creates a short-fusedness in my normally laid back persona. ShaggyBob don't wanta hafta smacka beatch.

New Pet peeve: A graphic designer is given a sleeve of advertising materials with a little note that says "be creative" complete with three exclamation points. Graphic designer then gets creative and designs an Ad for the customer that looks far superior to the crap-o-la that is usually displayed in the local rag. No less than three revisions later it resembles the crap-o-la again. Nothing special, nothing eye catching, nothing that jumps up and grabs your attention. If three exclamation points of creative equals bust your ass and then I'll re-design the layout to specifics that are required by the client and or the Sales Representative's keen eye for all that is marketable... then it's not so damn creative is it. Don't waste my time and energy to put the smackdown on principles of aesthetics and design when you can just as easily scratch a layout in purple crayon and have me color within the lines. Time is money...and it's not my money, I'm just a Design lemming on the gravytrain of deadend job.

Monday, February 11, 2008

A link for Miss Kate and Miss Sara

Any suggestions?

I'm looking for suggestions for Happy Hour cocktail type foods for this Friday at the Oasis. Something easy that goes well with a few beverages and great company. I've exhausted my bag of tricks and need something pronto so I can get the grocery list in order.... Lil help? (I'm not cooking wings at my place, the smell of deep fryer grease is enough to make me chunder.) And it has to constitute a meal, not snack food. I don't want to have to eat all night long there are better things to fill my belly with that involve more drinking and less chewing.

Saturdays fare is already in the works, I'm just lookin for Friday HH meal type goodness.

P.S. Train Wreck is straight out! No ifs, ands, or buts. And refrain from mention of Yogurt slinging I'll have none of that either.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Triptych Red, "it's portable"

Not weeping.....

And the weekend commensed with a trip to the local meat store. Avon Meatland. Yup it's named "Meatland". The furry wasn't really appetizing when I was there (ok, naked critter) so I moved toward foul. A Turkey bird to be exact, well, a portion of a turkey bird. I dig the turkey, but being a single mutt like myself I don't have the benefit of the rest of the pack of wolves to consume 25lbs of bird at one sitting. BAked breast started at nooner, followed closely with a nice dram of scotch to heat up the inside while waiting for the turkey. A few more...and the bird still wasn't finished so I topped off with some tasty brew that Jenn and Brett left last weekend. Managed to hit up the beer store for some of Americas finest swill in a 36can pack. The closest I can could get to my fav beer "free in a can and in my hand". Mmmm Miller Lite. 5pm the bird was done so I grabbed my best kniff. A Wustof 7" santuku that should make any would be chef out there giddy . It's balanced, heavy, and I haven't yet been able to fillet a finger better with anyother knife. While i was out earlier in the day I had an epiphany that revolved more or less around a panini type egg dipped pub grub type sandwich. Mr. Fisher was en route so I sliced, pulled, and shredded Mr. Gobbles' breast, sliced the dark onion rye, shaved the Jarlsburg, mixed the apple cranberry chutney... and shredded the bacon. Piled everything high (planning on making it impossibly to finished the sandwich when you got to the last bite...the "I'm going to be sick last sandwich bite" =>you all know you've been there) Bathe in scrambled and pan toast the suckers. The smoke alarm went off as Mr. Fisher and I were finishing our second pre meal bevvies. It always happens when there is no direct ventilation fan, I care not. A quick hop and Karch Kiraly takes the beeping smoke bastard hardwired into the electrical right off the ceiling, done and done.

After a decent meal Fishaaaah had to head out to the Union hockey game. My evening plans had me heading to the Schenecta'dirt Curling Club to spread some support for Gonzo and his team. 2.25 a pint? I think I'll have a few. Nothing beats an inperson viewing of Curling when you've been prone to stop whatever you're doing and or skip a final exam in College when Curling makes it onto the tube. It was a blast. After a few hours of Curl goodness I ventured back to the Oasis and had the ambition to do some late night painting. I no doubt pissed my downstairs neighbor off. Throwing paint when half in the bag involves a lot of jumping around and getting mars black and other assorted "no way no how is this coming out of the rug" colors around. I ended up with afew decent compositions.

Saturday I was fully feeling the effects of a night of drankin gone overboard. It's something that you have to live with when you punish your liver and if you feel sorry for yourself you're an idiot. You could have planned ahead and slowed down the evening previous and not put yourself in the Situation in the first place. I embrace the big stick that the hangover gods weild with ruthlessness. I finished the bird for the most part and sat down to viddy some movies, and chose the BBC Planet Earth series. About 10minutes into the Caves portion just when they were elaborting on a ginormous pile of guano 100meters high and showing cockroaches and giant centipedes another one of hairy's relatives motored across my living room floor. It's the first time at the new place that I've seen a House Centipede and he was a rather large fellow. Not 11inches long like is homeboy in the video but large enough to startle me.
.......
...........The hunt was on! The foe was smart, infact too smart. After throwing anything in my reach at him, he jetted for the only place in the Apt that I wouldn't flip over, turn upside down or knock over to kill the lil bastard. (your guess?) yup...he ran directly under the fridge that holds the beer with the extensively stocked bar resting on top. Round one to Centipede. Or was it. I removed some of the clutter from around the fridge with care and stealth and saw my enemy resting half under and half exposed by the outer perimeter of the bottom of Mr. Frosty. Swift action, ninja-esque chop Round two for the big guy; missing legs for the bad guy.... running in circles>??? yup ( but then he was gone for the evening and hours of vigilence didn't give me another siting.

I slept in Sunday as is habit...giving myself a few extra hours of shut eye to charge for the long night at the office. I made left overs for dinner and shot pics of the paintings I worked on the previous couple of evenings. I had just sat on the couch to give myself a few minutes of peace and quiet before heading to work and wouldn't you know it. That exoskeleton wearing, 2/3rd of his legs missing on the left hand side of his body sportin, lil shit was dipping his antennae into the cadmium red of the triptych I had finished Friday evening. Not in a drying rack, not on the floor, 2ft away resting comfortably on my Coffee Table. He should have spontaneously combusted via the gaze I shot his way. Infuriated by his brash "in your face" display I didn't even bother getting something to smash him with. I felt the crunch of his body armour as I smeared his carcass in a wide band of whatever it is that makes their systems work on the inside. It's totally possible to make a 2 1/2inch little bug much larger when you flatten them out. 2 1/2in to just under a foot, in the time it takes to laugh outloud and swing your mighty bug quashing mitt at them. Not so fast now are you Mr. Spindly long ass legs?

I can't even fathom the fun I had this weekend without getting a small yet satifying grin on my face.


Thursday, February 7, 2008

And I weep

Someone has to be there to voice the concern for animals. I'm officially starting a campaign to make sure that they are all taken care of in the best way possible......



I, as the Executive Director of RJI Inc., fully endorse the fulfillment of our pledge to dispatch any and all helpless furry creatures in a humane or not so-humane manner when preparing to bake, braise, broil, grill, panfry, poach, steam, stew or rotisserie any of the worlds woodland foul or fauna.
A satellite faction of my organization will be commencing a brewing operation to add compliment to our mission.

As first order of business I've acquired the assistance of one Mr. Fisher to sample a delectable treat of animal death at the Oasis on Friday February 8th marking the beginning of the long and arduous task at hand.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Good News Everybody

I officially haven't seen the sun for an entire week, I cooked a steak for dinner (30secs and licked the packaging clean of any hemo) I'm bleaching my skin a la Wacko Jacko... and dying my hair black. All I need now is a raise at work so I can get the permanent cosmetic canines cemented to my choppers. My over all transformation from daywalker is nearly complete.

I AM MAX SCHRECK's... INNER CHILD's GREATEST FANTASY

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

The Oasis

The Oasis is open for Happy Hour this Friday. Perhaps a Ray Ray sighting... perhaps some Scotch, definitely some tasty food.

On an unrelated note, I'm not the only person to peace out and go toes to the sky falling on the ice outside my building. Miss Arleen my neighbor from across the hall took a spill this weekend. I'm fairly young still, just about to boarder on almost kinda mid-life, Arleen is above and beyond. She's a sweet lady and it pained me to see her trying to carry groceries from her car to the perma-locked entryway with her arm in a gianormous cast. (don't get your undies in a bunch=> of course I helped her) I thankfully don't have brittle bones, she's not in the same boat and shattered her wrist. Not just broken, shattered. I'm not traveling for the next three weeks because I've put myself in the service of Miss Arleen whenever she needs it barring the time I'm festering at the place of Biz. If you need to contact me, you know where I'll be... fending off birds of prey for helpless rodents bunkered in the Oasis.

I've also caught a glimpse of the nocturnal creature that Boone had a conversation with earlier this fall prior to his exedus from NYS to 'Bama. High up in a tree "hoo-hoo-hooooo-hoo-hoo" siloetted by the foggy mist over the Mohawk, with the dissipating city lights filtered out from the 'Dirt. I share a comparative living space with a Great Horned Owl. It nests no more than 30 ft from my balcony. Not the first creature you would expect to see in a city habitat, although it keeps me sane knowing that nature is still around, not withstanding the other nocturnal creatures lurking around the city. The ones with opposable thumbs are not as magestic.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Not a cent

"I Ain't got no corndog money"

ShaggyBob's Self-Help hints of the Moment

When faced with the two options of trimming a wayward hair on your cheek above you beard hair line, or removing it by tweezer and sheer brute strength... I suggest the first option. Here's my reasoning, when removing a hair my "pull" method it allows for the folicle to retart it's growth cycle under the skin and without the option to re-emerge from the original pore. Thursday I removed by the latter method, Saturday I had a painful face. Sunday I had an ingrown hair that turned into a minigolf ball on my mug. 15minutes after I realized the monstrocity I had a wound on my face. A dime sized spot of red is better than a quarter sized patch of white....I'm just sayin....trim it...save yourself the pain and belittling feeling when you weep like a 4yr old little girl after powering the beast out. Sniffle sniffle......

On a totally unrelated Self-Help hint of the Moment, if faced with the prospect of wearing a quitter sock for the entire day/evening of work or turning around halfway through your commute to fix the quitter sockness... go home and get rid of the bastard sock. If you don't be prepared for a WTF day in the extreme. G-D,it! WTF. Work, pull up your sock, work, pull up your sock, think about working while pulling up your sock, think about pulling up your sock while working, get pissed that your sock migrated to the toe of your shoe, remove shoe and pull up your sock, work...get heated enough to be "that guy" wearing one sock at work. Debate with yourself the clear intentions you have about taking the infernal sock and burning it in the parking lot like a little camp fire of Sock Pire . Feel gratified that you don't have to pull up your sock anymore for the night and get giddy when you burn the sock to the bastard sock gods in the parking lot as fellow employees come and go staring at you like your a little tatched in the head. "They're coming to take me away...ha ha"

Sunday, February 3, 2008

who said I'd live forever

How will I die?
Your Result: You will be murdered.
 

This doesn't guarantee pain and suffering, but it will be at the hands of another. Perhaps the vile deeds of a past life will attribute to this horrific demise. Do not fear murder. There is a rare epiphany that comes from this type of death. You will see it in the last moments.

You will die while having sex.
 
You will die in a car accident.
 
You will die from a terminal illness.
 
You will die while saving someone's life.
 
You will die in a nuclear holocaust.
 
You will die of boredom.
 
You will die in your sleep.
 
How will I die?
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Super weekend

I realized that having an extra day off during the week makes for nothing but lethargy, and boredom. I used my Thursday last week to take care of all the miscellaneous things that I needed to do.(i.e. I cashed a paycheck & wrote a rent check) 24hrs off and that's all I had to accomplish. Sometimes I wonder why I'm not in training to be a smoke jumper, the excitement in my life is just too overpowering for the likes of mankind.
J & B visited friday evening and we got our powerhouse Rockstar drink on. So there was a bit more merriness at that point.

Me thinks the Funtruck had best get it's ass in gear and plan a roadtrip before Mr. Bigley decides to come up stairs with a hammer and chainsaw. 3 days of late night Bobism probley makes him something something.