Things Are Not Always As They Appear...

...or some foie gras for Friday.

• Seems there is some actress/singer out there in Hollywoodland by the name of Lohan that was arrested again for drunk driving. Second time around. I dare to say I would have learned my fucking lesson first time around that May pole. Don't get me wrong. I ain't proselytizing. I've done the same thing in the past. I guess my ass was never drunk enough to get caught. Better yet, I KNOW how to drive when I've had too much.
  
  But as usual, that isn't my point. I've never seen a movie of hers nor heard a song. And she looks like she's about 11. Seems our elite corps of "The Right Thing" space people like to imbibe. ALOT!! Especially when they are quarantined right before the shuttle blasting off from it's loins. Now I'm not one to pass judgment. I've been inebriated before and I've flown cars and trucks while in that state. Least wise it felt that way.
  
  Now, I have the type of personality that the only way I'd get my ass on one of those space traveling buckets of fuel and "accident waiting to happen, who the hell thought of this idea" contraption, would be to drink. But that's just me. But these are individuals that fly jets and shuttles. So in my book this Lohan woman should be a qualified astronaut. Maybe it'll give her life a new direction.
  
  
• So some new study says that if you smoke one joint your likelihood of becoming mentally ill or ending up psychotic is doubled, or tripled, or something to that effect. Which explains why I am the way I am. Because I've smoked a joint. Just one. But they say that's all it takes. Damn cartel. I never had a chance. And now I'm saddled with the situation where my whole life could have been different if only I hadn't smoked that one joint. I'm not sure I can forgive myself.
  
  
• Seems another bottled water company has come forward and admitted that their water comes from the tap. Not surprised. It's been going on forever. Just another way to take advantage of you dumb fucks. I've never purchased water in a bottle and never will. Aquafina, the brand that recently said they would change their label, had, up until now, PWS on their label. Stands for public water system. They claim they sent it through seven steps of purification. I bet they did. Now they will continue to sell it with the disclaimer that it comes from tap water. Some people will continue to buy it. Stupid is as stupid does.
  
  
• It appears this Pat Tillman being killed by friendly fire is escalating into some some sort of lynching. The poor fucker is dead. Let it rest.
  
  
  

Tuesday Tidbits...

...and other musings about things that don't mean a damn.

• No matter how hard you try in life, in general, or if someone has it out for your ass, there's gonna be shit in your path. And sometimes you realize it's too late to go around it. So you just suck it up, walk through it and hope you've worn down the treads in your shoe bottoms enough that the cleanup won't be quite so dreadful and stinky.
  
  
• I try to be a good employee and in that vein I try to be as productive as I can. I go above and beyond the call of duty and take on tasks that, at my age, I shouldn't. But I do it anyways. You'd think I'd have the fucking sense to lay low, take it easy, and get a cush job. Like Drew Carey did with hosting the Price Is Right. I hadn't seen that program in over twenty years, when we used to lay up stoned and laugh our asses off. Then when I went to take care of my Dad I had my "office" set up at their kitchen table and EVERY fucking day, at 11, he would watch that show. And bid on the damned showcases, as if he something to gain. I just quietly laughed and went about my business. But that has to be one hell of a gig to have landed. He's a funny guy, hours seem OK and there's lots of women. All I get to do is take over others work, on top of my own, and get my ass chewed out when things I'm not supposed to be doing don't work out. Did I mention shit in your path?
  
  
• I can't believe I still have to listen to the nightly news and hear about Iraq, New Orleans and Katrina and all the other shit that they can't let go of. Did I mention shit in your path?
  
  
• The ex's Sister once dated a guy that took her to a pajama party at an upscale bar. She said he smelled like chicken soup. We were at said bar at the time when she told us and we were drinking White Russians. I was on about my sixth and the aroma of chicken soup didn't sound unappealing to me. It reminded me of the Seinfeld episode when his BMW got inundated with BO from the parking attendant. Some shit just sticks with you. Did I mention shit it your path?
  
  
• Just talked to both sons. I won't go into the conversations because they were both enjoyable. I like hearing about what they're doing and how they're shaping their lives. Reminds my ass of when I was their age. 'Cept I can't remember back that far. Too much shit in the path, I reckon.
  
  
• I still can't believe that QofD called me "dead dick boy". This is the only response I can come up with. Just be glad you don't have a prostate, missy smarty pants.
  
  
• Just out of curiosity, if God can save my ass, might he do the same for you? Not like I need saving or anything like that. Just tired of stepping in shit. Just curious, ya know.
  
  
  
  
  

Fuck It Friday...

..with various and sundry other gleaning's.

• This whole Harry Potter thing escapes my ass. I'm glad for "Jo" Rowling. Hell, she's a damned billionaire. I've got $32 in the bank a debt load of about $45,000. But I'm drinking a $100 bottle of wine tonight, so she has nothing on my ass far as I can tell. I've never read any of the books nor seen any of the movies. Nor do I care to. I have enough wizards floating around in my head. I don't need to be reading about any. And it will never compare to Tolkien's Lord Of The Rings.
  
  
• The ex's Mom was a raging alcoholic. And I mean the kind that had vodka bottles hidden all over the damned place. She hid them in places even my ass couldn't think of. She had it down to an art. We dealt with it the entire time we were married, which didn't help things any, but that's history. Point is, I never liked being involved in the whole situation. The daughters hired a maid/caregiver that they eventually decided was stealing from their Mom. They "asked" me to fire her. Hell, I liked the woman and she treated their Mom well, but they were from a rich family and they were convinced that she was stealing money that would eventually be theirs, so I fired her ass. I regret that to this day. She was a good woman and I didn't believe any of the allegations. It was the last time I let myself be a puppet for anyone's dirty work.
  
  
• My Mom always made the best meatloaf in the world. You could count on it. Succulent, full of onions and peppers and greasy as your shit after a night of tequila. One night she tried a neighbors recipe. I threw up on my plate. She used Spam or something. The look on her face was priceless. So was my Dad's, who just asked for another martini. And a napkin.
  
  
• I went to the market tonight after work. My nephew works as a cashier there now. He does one hell of a job. I made it a point to go through his line since he was kind enough to help me when I went through the reaction to the BP medicine. We had a nice chat as the scanning process was going on. This kid has perfect teeth. I guess that's what parents are for, if they have the money and inclination, but MFG, this kids teeth are something that should be in commercials. But that's not my point. He's a good kid, he treated the customers well, and he was polite and helpful. He deserves credit, but most of all, so do his parents.
  
  
• I'm sorry to say that I've had to subjugate myself to one of the lesser expensive bottles of wine I received for my B'Day. I wasn't capable of drinking them when I finally got them home. I've been through the most expensive and will work my way down, until, of course, I reach my usual box of Franzia. Which I piss out just as easily as the expensive shit.
  
  
• I've been doing exhaustive research on BP medicines and my ass is pretty much fucked. Whatever it is that's in penicillin and ACE inhibitors and BetaBlockers, my ass is having nothing to do with them. I suppose I could quit smoking and drinking, but one is a vasoconstrictor and the other a vasodilator, so they should cancel one another out, n'est pas? Any ideas?
  
  
• Did you hear about the lady that killed her newborn by putting it in the microwave? She said she wouldn't have done it had she not been so drunk. Now that's my kinda woman. "Hey Babe, what's for dinner?" "Baby Cathy Ann and some sauerkraut. You wanna nother shot?"
  
  
• I was accepted to Law School. Ex didn't want me to go. I'm ambivalent as to how I feel about that decision now. It was a long time ago. One thing I do ponder about, however, is when a judge tells the jury to disregard a witnesses statement. Like they'll just wipe it out of their heads? And what about people who are convicted and then when they make a statement tell everyone how sorry they are for all the pain they've caused? How come that emotional trigger didn't click in their heads when they were committing the crime? I think I would have made one hell of a lawyer, IMHO.
  
  
• Retrograde ejaculation. Look it up and learn. It may come in handy one day.
  
  
  

This Guy Was An Army Ranger...

...and an NBC news military analyst. He died suddenly today. A decorated hero. If you could trust anyones assessment of how things were going in either of the Gulf Wars, this was the guy.

When they reported it on the news this evening they said he died suddenly after a brief illness. I never have understood that depiction of death. You die from blunt force trauma, or a heart attack, or a long bout with cancer. A brief illness? Like diabetes took your ass out suddenly. Or shingles or Lupus shut you down? It reminds me of that actor on Law and Order that died like in two days, after a "brief illness". Turned out to be prostate cancer. My guess is that in this case it's the same thing. Not many brief illnesses kill your ass. Pneumonia, maybe, but this guy was a warrior, and only 67, so I doubt it was that.

What puzzles me is how you don't know you have PCa. Nevertheless, his service is honored. He served his country with honor and fortitude.

Sometimes My Cranium...

...gets overloaded and I have to let the pressure off.

• I am, for the most part, a very laid back individual, and practice a "live and let live" lifestyle. If you want to tattoo your mother's ass on your face, well, that's your choice. But it always confounds me when people are so fucking arrogant that they think if only people would do as they do the world would be a paradise. Politicians come to mind, to name only one. So I quit watching their shit. In the long run, it may work for your ass, but it may not work for mine, of which I have little of.
  
  
• I'm not a technological neophyte and I'm pretty good with my hands and such. But the quality of technical writers these days is pitiful. My combo DVD/VCR shit the bed after one year. I tried for three weeks to find one to replace it. Most models now are made to connect to cable boxes or some such other thingy. I finally found one at Best Buy. Records both DVD's and VCR's. It took my ass three hours to figure out how to use the fucker. Hooking it up was easy. Getting through the rest of the instructions was like reading Korean. They should put pictures of big-breasted women in the instructions. It would keep me from getting so pissed off.
  
  
• Someone called me a "dead dick boy" in the comments. I have a good sense of humor and I don't take myself too seriously, and I discuss that aspect of my life freely. But the damned thing ain't always dead. Just wanted to clear that up.
  
  
• Sometimes the thing you're looking for the most is right under your nose. In my case it's another glass of wine. And a peek at BabsRn's "mine are real, thank you very much" breasts. Hey, my body is getting old, so I've been reminded.
  
  
• Ever taken Wellbutrin? That is some bad, bad shit. It's an anti-depressant but they found that if you take it for a month or so it will help you quit smoking. I can see why. Because if you take it you're going to kill yourself anyways, so that solves that. I quit taking it after two days. I couldn't drive, couldn't think, couldn't concentrate. Hell, I couldn't do shit. On the other hand, if you have SAD, then I recommend Clonazepam. You take two of those bad boys and settle in with a box of wine and you'll be talking to Jesus and the entire squadron of archangels.
  
  
• Best concerts I've ever seen. Jethro Tull at Carmichael Auditorium at UNC after Thick As A Brick came out. Steely Dan at the Palladium(now goes by another name) in Charlotte. I don't know diddly about sound equipment and the like, but damned if they don't do it well.
  
  
• Everything on TV nowadays is contrived. Reality shows, cooking shows, game shows. When my eldest was born and the ex and her sister went out shopping, I took the young tyke to the market and we purchased a box of bread-making mix. I took him home, put him in his little carry seat, plopped him on the kitchen counter and gave him a Heineken. I then talked him through the finer points of cooking and such. During this time the wimmin's came home and were just flabbergasted by my prowess. There should have been cameras. I looked good back then.
  
  

Just Some Thoughts...

...after a piss poor week.

• I went to the mall today for the first time in about five years. It dawned on my ass as soon as I walked in why I avoid this place like the plague. There are the weirdest breed of people shuffling around, all the women are fat and they keep stuffing their titties back inside their bras because their tops are too small. My hemorrhoids rebelled and started inflicting me with a metaphysical anal meltdown. I seriously thought of cooling them in one of the fountains that adorn the surroundings, but I was afraid a wayward titty would make off with my ass.
  
  
• An update on the previous post. My lower lip swelled so much that it cut off all the blood to the capillaries to my cells under my lip and they all died. So not only do I have a dead dick, I have dead mouth cells to go with it it. I was hoping for a transplant along the way, but that got shit canned. So another trip to the MD whom just shook his head, handed me a script and said good fucking luck. Indeed.
  
  
• Some people you just connect with but they are too stubborn to admit it and the other is too damned old to do much good. But it remains good just the same.
  
  
• My B'Day was the 10th. I spent the day on prednisone, benadryl and Zantec. Why the hell I was on Zantec is beyond my ass. And some mouth abscesses that would make your stomach turn. Next year I'm going for a body transplant.
  
  
• This blogging shit is getting tedious. I guess I don't have the constitution for it anymore. As Sydney Harris said, if it ain't worth thinking about it ain't worth writing about. That about sums it up.
  
  

Lisinopril...

...is an ACE inhibitor used to tread hypertension and other heart related issues.

I took my first dose at 6:PM on Thursday. By 11:00AM on Friday I started going into anaphylactic shock. It started with my upper lip swelling up on the right side. An hour later on my way to the MD's the entire lip was the size of a small yellow squash. MD wouldn't touch me (chicken shit; you gave me this crap) so they sent me across the way to the Urgent Care ER. Got right in, hooked up to IV's in each arm, two shots in the buttocks whilst some PA extolled on about the need for me to go to the "BIG" ER for further treatment and 8 hours of observation. In no uncertain terms I told them there was no chance in hell that was happening.

So two hours later, armed with three scripts and a feeling that my head was going to explode, I hopped in my truck with brother driving and his son following and made my trek home, via a stop at the pharmacy. This pic was taken around 7PM last night. Lower lip catching up and cheeks so swollen that within an hour my eyes were swollen shut.

I made a conscious effort two months ago to be more proactive in watching over my health. That ended yesterday. I went 28 years without going to a primary care physician and I never had to deal with all the shit I have since that time. All drug related. Hell, I've been able to keep prostate cancer at bay, on my own, for five years. So if you are under the care of someone that has taken the Hippocratic oath, RUN as fast as your ass will take you.

I'd like to say that things have improved this morning, but alas, they haven't. So I'm off to fill these cheeks with acorns. I should be able to pack in enough to get me through the winter.

Here's Some Shit That Pisses...

...my ass off.

• Don't get a quizzical look on your face when I tell you that the most popular blood pressure medicine you have me on tears up my digestive tract.(And if you, dear reader, take HCTZ, I recommend you get on something else). I warned you about me and meds. And it took me 28 years to go to another GP, so you'd better listen. I was a whipper-snapper back then. Not so much now. And when you write a script, make sure the techs can tell the difference between a 0 and a 2. How in the hell do they read that hieroglyphic shit anyways? Because of it my diastolic BP stays above 110 for two more days.
  



• I've about had it with people that feign that they care about you. Just quit the BS.
  



• 
  It always amuses me when bloggers whom are also gun aficionado's get all worked up and send out a call-to-arms. As if Al-Qaeda is going to show up on their doorstep looking for their first-borne. I hate to disappoint your testosterone, guys, but that ain't likely to happen. I know you love your weapon. Save it for your SO. She loves it.
  



• Speaking of Al-Qaeda, I'm tired of hearing about their asses. And I'm tired of Iraq, and Iran, and Hezbollah. Do something about it or get off the pot. Enough.
  



• We have a new "head hunter" at work. Not in the sense of a number cruncher, but determining how effective we are as employees. Why the powers-that-be thought it necessary is beyond me. Nice enough guy, but you can tell after a few moments with him that he's just full of it. He's trying to endear himself to everyone as if he's got their best interest at heart, and then there's the proverbial sledge hammer waiting in the wings. What puzzles me about this whole thing is that everyone other than the owner and the prez doesn't have an idea what he is up to. It's all about making himself look good, not us. Of course, it will be done under the guise of "what's best for the company", but for shit's sake, we have 12 employees.