The Blood Test

Wow, four tubes for blood. And there's the needle, time to turn my head and look away...

...Think Shaquille O'Neal entering Carl...wait, big black bitch splitter sounds too painful, Carl entering Shaq - yeah, no pain there, like driving a Mini into a black hole...

...Deep breaths now, breathe...

(Prick)

This isn't so bad...

"You're blood is coming out really slowly."

Is that really a bad thing? I'm happy that my blood has grown fond of my body. I'd die if my blood was in a rush to part ways with my body. Literally...

Whew...it's over. Nothing could be worse than this except Christmas shopping on the busiest shopping day of the year, awww son of a bitch...

"Before you leave, we need to take a urine sample from you."

What?!

Breathe...

Relax...

OMG, I can't pee! I'm not claustrophobic, but the walls of this washroom certainly seem like they are caving in on me. Of all the things, I'm going to fail this freaking urine test!

Come on, bladder... (In Rob Schneider Waterboy voice:) You can do it!

Oh yeah, just let it all out. OK, you can stop now. Now you really need to stop. I said stop dammit!

What a relief. Peeing never felt so good!

A Visit to the Doctor's

Hickory dickory fu-ock, I went to see the doc. The monthlong buildup for what turned out to be a 30 minute getting to know you sesssion. And I had no idea he was a celebrity! It cost me $20 for the one-on-one meet-and-greet. Overall, very anticlimactic...

...Not to change the subject, but is it me or was Blade III really an 1.5+ hour-long IPOD infomercial?

Back to the doctor's...I had to smile a little answering a question on the medical history form that asked about being sexually active. When I think of the phrase "sexually active," I think of volcanic activity. I think it's because, like a volcano, my eruptions are few and far between (yes, I know what you're thinking: "Poor Fez". So I wonder how my doctor would react if I responded to the question with, "No, right now I'm sexually dormant. But if the circumstances are right I could explode at anytime!"

I handed in the form and a few minutes later a nurse opens a door halfway and calls my name. I think a pre-requesite for this person's line of work has to be previous work experience as a dominatrix. She just called out my name and I knew to come to her. Not another word. And the fact that she opened the door halfway leads me to believe that she probably had a whip in the one hand I couldn't see just in case I didn't understand her unspoken command to follow her at the call of my name. She took me to a special room, put her stick in my mouth and told me to bite. Kinky, kinky...

The nurse had her way with me and then led me to another special room - the "Examination Room" where the doctor was to see me. I waited there patiently. And finally the doctor came! Then he shook my hand. Hee hee...

After a month of waiting, you'd figure I'd be prepared to tell him everything that was wrong with me. But my mind was elsewhere. Besides being stuck in the gutter, I was thinking that right at that moment of how I saw the doctor and the doctor said, "Ooh-ee-ooh-ah-ah, ting-tang-walla-walla-bing-bang, Ooh-ee-ooh-ah-ah," and then he shrunk my head. But he didn't. Instead, he told me to get some tests done, and that we'd go over the results in a few weeks.

And that's it. The End.

The Great Chicago Fire of December 6, 2004

So how 'bout that fire in the middle of Chicago's financial district? I didn't find out about it until a concerned Chosen One's father called to ask if I was safe. Interesting how someone over 1,700 miles away knew about what was going on, when I, being less than 17 miles away, did not. As usual, Erwin is the last to know, and in this case, the last to know the 4-1-1 on the 9-1-1 in the 3-1-2 at the 1-3-5 where there was a major 5-11 at 6-30 on 12-6...

And now some observations surrounding the event:

1. Fire starts with an "F" and so does Female. And like a female, it will do anything for attention, i.e. preventing men from watching any sport on TV. So when Monday Night Football was interrupted for what seemed like the entire game for fire coverage, all I could think of was another word that started with "F": FUCK!

2. When I get my own place, a fireplace will need to be a must. The 3 hours I spent watching the fire was more entertaining than anything I had seen on TV in a really long time. Now if only I could have gotten marshmallows to roast by simply waving them in front of the TV, I'd be set.

3. I really have to wonder how many takes reporters have to do for their taped news pieces to be deemed good enough to air on TV. They must cringe when they have to do live breaking news stories because they show to the world how really air-headed they are. There should have only been one station that should have been allowed to do the live reporting coverage. All the other stations could have just shown the live footage of the fire with "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire" playing in the background.

4. Tourists are not people. They are obstacles in the path to reaching point B from point A. Since we do not consider these things to be people, we should have the right to push them into the middle of oncoming traffic when they walk slow, stop or make an effort to stare at the building with a black smoke band around it. Hell, we should push these people things into oncoming traffic anyways because it's our duty as law-abiding citizens. What law says we should push stupid ass clowns into the middle of the street for the sake of humanity you ask? It's called Survival of the Fittest.

As the Cookie Crumbles

Hey, doesn't that sound like a catchy title to some new reality TV series? Okay, maybe not, but at least it sounds more original than The Real Gilligan's Island. Is the original Gilligan's Island going to be renamed The More Real Gilligan's Island or The Original Gilligan's Island? And about this so-called Real Gilligan's Island...if memory serves me correctly, the original crew of the SS Minnow was rescued, but then managed to get themselves stranded on the anonymous "island" again...so why aren't they given a chance to compete on this show? The perfect but abrupt ending to the show would be the revelation that the original cast, after eating all the coconuts on the island, have become savages and cannibalize the Gilligan's Island castaway wannabe's. We've already had a reality show called Dog Eat Dog, why not Human Eat Human? That would make for awesome ratings!

Oh man, I've got myself started:

And why do they call reality tv shows that? Those shows are so far from reality it's not even funny. Where in reality do I get to be stranded on some tropical paradise and talk shit about everyone else behind their backs? Or totally whore myself out to a bunch of women who say they want to marry me out of love knowing that whether or not the relationship works out, there's certainly gotta be some type of cash prize involved somewhere?

And about the contestants...the filming of these shows seem to take place over a lengthy period of time. What do these people tell their bosses about leaving work? "Mr. or Ms. Boss person, I am loyal to the company and I really do love what I do, but I have aspiring dreams to become a reality TV show actor or actress, and I feel this is the one and only shot I have to achieve it"?

Could you imagine what the world would be like without these stupid, pointless shows?

I Actually Have Time To Think

For some reason, two conversations I've had with other people (as opposed to myself or with something other than human, which occur more frequently these days) over the past week are still lingering in my brain. Guess they want to come out for me to share, eh?

Here it goes...so last weekend I helped The Chosen One study for her exam that, if passed, would allow her to enroll in Teaching School (I digress, isn't the phrase "School of Education" redundant?). We were going over the answers to the grammar portion of a test exam when I revealed something to her I had long forgotten about:

The Chosen One: Erwin, you're such a smartee.
The Chooser of the One: Nah, I had fun doing this grammar stuff...if med school and becoming a doctor didn't work out, I wanted to try journalism.
The Chosen One: But you're in business-ag?
The Chooser of the One: Yep, I know...

Funny how things work out that way. I never thought I'd be doing what I am doing today (getting reamed without the lube). So much for reaching for the stars and achieving my dreams, which leads me to conversation #2....

I heard that a person who is similar to me in age and has a great career in front of him is starting up a new business as the owner of a nail salon which doubles as an art studio. Holy crap, add this along with the fact that he goes to school and just purchased a house, this person's got a lot going for him...and he's around my age!!! Then I think about myself. Yes, I too have a pretty good career, and I also do some computer repair and upgrade sidework, and I'm looking into possibly opening an investment club in the near future, but that's it. What more can I possibly do? Try E-Bay? I don't have enough Lance Armstrong bracelets to auction off. Sell porn? I'd be my best customer. Donate sperm? Seeing how this would fall in line with my plot to conquer the world, I'd do it for free...

It's really all the WWE's fault. I felt pretty accomplished until they gave the World Championship to a 24 year old. That makes me feel pretty shitty. Thanks, WWE. I love you anyways.

All Is Well Again

Yes, all is well again with "us," but I'm not quite sure about "me." Take for instance CD shopping and while picking up the new Eminem, also picking up the greatest hits CD of Toby Keith. Although the milestone of actually buying a CD is pretty significant, it was dwarfed by the fact that history was made as Erwin purchased his first country CD ever. Wow, country...whoever thought I'd be jamming to "Beer for my Horses"?

My Weekend - The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

The Good
Chinese food for breakfast
Running into WWE wrestler Lance Storm and getting his autograph
Dropping everything to comfort and support someone I care about

The Bad
Airport Chinese food for breakfast
Looking like a complete jackass fawning over Lance Storm like he was Britney Spears
Getting shit on, betrayed and blindsided by someone I care about

The Ugly
Coming into work in a really crappy mood. The fact that it's month-end isn't helping...
Reliving the good and the bad of this weekend and suffering today's ugliness to the theme of The Barbie Song...

Suddenly, living in a world made of plastic doesn't sound so bad anymore...

Let's Play "Rhymes with..."

..."Hair"...

“My hair, my hair, where is my hair?”
I say to myself in pity and stare
What was once full is now bare
My head feels naked now in the cold air

I’m getting a migraine, where’s the bottle of Bayer?
Feeling better I reminisce, now and then I compare,
It was really nothing special, nothing debonair
It wasn’t even that long, still the length was fair
And now all that’s left is a very thin layer

I had a bad feeling walking to that barber’s chair
Apprehension over a haircut for me is so rare
But not listening to me he asked his friend for a square
Then he proceeded to shave my head without a care
And with that screwup there would be or could be no repair

My traumatic experience with you I now share
What was once full is now bare
I say to myself in pity and stare,
“My hair, my hair, where is my hair?”

The adware infesting my computer is gone, so I can now blog more often now, right? NOT! Stupid cold will keep me away from my computer and force me to stay in bed. So why is my stupid cold stupid then? Yo no se...

The Things You Do For Love

The Things You Do For Love #1 Flew out to Spokane, WA last weekend to visit my Love (yes, cyber Erwin has a girlfriend - a real one!). If it's September and you don't have a future fiancee to visit, then I wonder why you would want to be in this part of the state. Imagine a nice sunny day, blue skies and rolling hills...that are piss yellow. It's like the entire state of Washington took every single dog in the state and gave each dog an acre of eastern Washington from Spokane to Pullman to piss on. Amber waves of grain? America the Beauiful? I think not...

The Things You Do For Love #2 While having dinner with aforementioned Love and her roomate, the subject of airplane meals was brought up. Apparently, being served pop and peanuts does not constitute a meal because it was brought to my attention that some flights do serve (two finger quotes) "real" food. Then on the flight coming home, I was excited that in the duration, I was going to sample my first (two finger quotes) "real" airplane meal. Yippee skippee, a (two finger quotes) "Spanish" omelette! Next time I get offered a so-called real airplane meal, I won't yippee but more like skippee on it. In classic Linda Richards Coffee Talk fashion, I think I'm feeling a bit verklempt, I'll give you a topic:

In an airplane meal, a "Spanish" omelette is neither Spanish nor an omelette, but rather an icebreaker when introducing yourself to the mile-high port-a-potty.

Now talk amongst yourselves (at least until my next post).

Adware has infected my computer. I guess protection does keep away unnecessary bugs. Here's more to ponder about while I'm on hiatus ...

So Much for Free Love

SAN FRANCISCO (Reuters) - Having sex with corpses is now officially illegal in California after Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger signed a bill barring necrophilia, a spokeswoman said on Friday. The new legislation marks the culmination of a two-year drive to outlaw necrophilia in the state and will help prosecutors who have been stymied by the lack of an official ban on the practice, according to experts. "Nobody knows the full extent of the problem. ... But a handful of instances over the past decade is frequent enough to have a bill concerning it," said Tyler Ochoa, a professor at Santa Clara University School of Law who has studied California cases involving allegations of necrophilia. "Prosecutors didn't have anything to charge these people with other than breaking and entering. But if they worked in a mortuary in the first place, prosecutors couldn't even charge them with that," Ochoa said. The state's first attempt to outlaw necrophilia, in response to a case of a man charged with having sex with the corpse of a 4-year-old girl in Southern California, stalled last year in a legislative committee. Lawmakers revived the bill this year after an unsuccessful prosecution of a man found in a San Francisco funeral home drunk and passed out on top of an elderly woman's corpse. The new law makes sex with a corpse a felony punishable by up to eight years in prison.

Fun With Weed!

While "serious" card players are "all in" the middle of this Texas Hold'em craze, there's a small but growing group of people who want to mess with Weed! ... the card game. The game is just as addictive as the medicinal herb, just without the contact high (so I've heard).

Us laid back people aren't interested in the money, because there's no money to be won. We're more interested in farming our crops and making sure that our garden isn't affected by dandelions, po-leece busts or even worse, the very dangerous Potzilla, a monster that threatens to take all our plants.

As their new card game spokesperson, I say, "Get Weed! and chill, dude."

Here We Go Again

Another August trip to Washington kicks off the end of my summer and the return of da blog. What the hell happened to Blogger? All these changes and new toys to tinker with makes me feel like an old geezer who can't cope with technology.

As for my most recent vacation, one word can sum it up - waiting. Case in point: waiting for my 3.5 hour plane ride ordeal of hearing an over-the-hill man miserably fail at hitting on the (much younger) girl sitting next to him to end. I knew not being around annoying people wouldn't last...

A Moment of Silence for this Patient, Please
 
 
Crazed surgeon amputates patient's penis, chops it up
 
BUCHAREST (AFP) - A Romanian surgeon who underwent a fit of madness while operating on a man's testicles proceeded to amputate his penis and cut it into three pieces.   The surgeon, Naum Ciomu, was said to be a senior member of the hospital staff and a professor of anatomy.   He had been operating on a 34-year-old man for a testicular malformation when he committed the act, hospital officials said Friday.   "We are shocked by what has happened. It is the first time we have had such a case," said Sorin Oprescu, head of the Bucharest emergency hospital where the operation took place.   Doctor Ciomu had been banned from entering an operating theatre for two months pending the results of an investigation by the medical council, Oprescu said.   Meanwhile the wife of the unfortunate patient said she was suing Dr. Ciomu.

Holy Crap, Three Posts In One Week?!

Even though she says my posts are getting more and more boring, Work Wifey is still being a faithful Work Wifey and still continues to read my posts on a regular basis, which is more than I can say for the rest of you people who have lives (geez, as if boring posts weren't enough, I'm trying to lose readers by complimenting the millions of non-readers out there who have better things to do right now).

In my defense, there just hasn't been much going on for me lately except work. Sure, I could talk about how I got these blue fuzzy computer monitor monster things with feet and antennae that have "Information Security is Everyone's Responsibility" on what looks to be a trail of toilet paper coming out of their ass. Or I could talk about how I courageously and single-handedly slayed the Ice Chomping Man and made him look for other things to chomp on (cucumbers, potato chips, tin canspretzels).

But who wants to read about that stuff anyways? It's not easy being creative, especially when you're sitting in front of a computer stuck at work at 8 PM while my non-readers are out on a warm and beautiful Friday night...

You Know I Had to Blog This

Judge Suspected of Masturbating in Court

OKLAHOMA CITY (Reuters) - An Oklahoma state judge frequently masturbated and used a device for enhancing erections while his court was in session, charges a petition by the state's attorney general seeking his removal. Oklahoma Attorney General Drew Edmondson filed the petition on Wednesday with state judicial authorities seeking the ouster of Sapulpa District Judge Donald Thompson, 57, for "conduct constituting an offense involving moral turpitude in violation of the Oklahoma Constitution," Edmondson's spokesman said on Thursday. The judge flatly denies the charges made in the petition, his lawyer, Clark Brewster, said on Thursday. He said the judge received a penis pump for his 50th birthday as a gag gift, which became a source of a running joke in the courthouse. In the petition, the attorney general charged Thompson used a penis pump, a device billed as providing sexual pleasure and promising better erections and larger penis size, during trials and exposed himself to a court reporter several times while masturbating on the bench. "On one occasion, Ms. (Lisa) Foster (Thompson's court reporter for 15 years), saw Judge Thompson holding his penis up and shaving underneath it with a disposable razor while on the bench," the petition reads. Several witnesses, including jurors in Thompson's court and police officers called to testify in trials, said in the petition they heard the "swooshing" sound of a penis pump during trials and saw the judge slumped in his chair, with his elbows on his knees, working the device. The witnesses said the pump sounded like a blood pressure cuff being pumped up. According to the petition, Thompson admitted he had a penis pump under the bench during a murder trial but he told investigators it was a gag gift from a friend...

...Sure it was just a gag gift. Taking a page from Austin (another Austin Powers reference): "It's not mine, really it's not."

Just goes to show that mixing business with pleasure gets you in trouble.

Coffee Talk

Having changed work hours, the coffee mug has welcomed me back with open arms, errr handle. Yes, Dunkin' Donuts' stock has risen since I personally re-introduced the return of my imaginary trademarked coffee, the X-tra large coffee X-tra sugar X-tra cream, or the "X-X-X." I've become quite the celebrity as its gotten to the point where I walk in and out of my favorite Indian restaraunt (next to Subway and Seven Eleven) without uttering a single word. Yeah, it's the ESP psychic telepath kinetic link we share. Or it might be that I am probably one of the most predicatable people on this planet. My money's on the latter...

And Starbucks. That evil amoeba of a corporation which has engulfed practically all local mom and pop coffee shops. Not to fear for they cannot avoid my coffee wrath. Coffee bitches (a.k.a. baristas) cringe as they have to take my custom-made-to-order-not-on-the-menu frappucino. Since the amount I'd ideally like to pay for lunch is the amount I'm spending on my overpriced coffee drink, at least give me the satisfaction that my green apron wearing servants are suffering in hell for selling their soul to the evil greedy corporation based in Seattle's Space Needle (perfectly depicted in the 2nd Austin Powers).

Where's the Justice?

Man Commits Suicide After Sex with Hen

LUSAKA (Reuters) - A 50-year-old Zambian man has hanged himself after his wife found him having sex with a hen, police said Friday. The woman caught him in the act when she rushed into their house to investigate a noise. "He attempted to kill her but she managed to escape," a police spokesman said. The man from the town of Chongwe, about 50 km (30 miles) east of Lusaka, killed himself after being admonished by other villagers.
The hen was slaughtered after the incident.

OK...Man gets his jollies...Woman's life is spared...So why is it that the hen is the only one being punished?...

And how do you have sex with a chicken? Carl, having lived on a farm in Wisconsin and no doubt being quite the stud with farm animals, please share...

The Bare Minimum

Did you know:

* There is over 250,000 words in the English language.

* About 170,000 words are used somehow in everyday language.

* Approximately 50,000 words are considered obsolete.

* The remaining 30,000 words are words derived from other words.

* The vocabulary of an average person is 5,000 - 6,000 words.

So isn't it kinda strange how you can keep a conversation going with certain people for a long period of time just by using the same 7 words (Yay, yup, ok, uh-huh, really, right, cool) over and over? For example (and cookies for you if you know who "Anonymous" is):

Anonymous: You're gay
Me: Yay
Anonymous: Yay for the gay
Me: Yup
Anonymous: I've got somethin' to tell ya
Me: OK
Anonymous: Ramble, ramble, ramble, blah, blah, blah
Me: Uh-huh
Anonymous: Ramble, ramble, blah, blah, ramble, blah
Me: Right
Anonymous: Ramble, blah, blah, ramble, ramble, blah
Me: Really? Cool <---- (Extra points for using a multiple word combo)

This continued on for a good 20-30 minutes. So why bother with 250,000 or 170,000 or even 5,000 words when we really only need these 7?

A Week in Minnesota

Hmmmm, I really should be doing a formal write-up for my superiors to read aboot (damn Minnesota accent), but before I do that, maybe I should tell the real story (yes, for only a modest fee, there really are privileges to being a member of my po-...whoops wrong site)...

***Begin exclusive***

Sunday: Ominous beginning as shuttle bus driver tries to convince me that his other job is going to take off any day now and that I should join his network marketing campaign. I kindly decline and he says something to the extent of me regretting my decision to turn down a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Just great, held hostage by a Minnesota shuttle bus driver.

As I settle into my hotel room, I begin to realize that I am hungry. From my hotel room vantage point, I see a Denny's and another restaraunt called Cattle Country. Cattle Country. That has got to be the 3rd worst name to name a restaurant (Al's Fun in the Bun is tops, with Booby's a close second). Only one problem with Denny's: it's on the other side of the highway. To the left, highway. To the right, more highway. I have no car. Don't want to deal with evil shuttle bus driver again. Taking a cab to Denny's is ridiculous. So how the hell do you get to the other side? I tried to think of the punchline to "Why did the chicken cross the road?" for a clue to no avail. Settled for Cattle Country which was only across the street. After two 32-ounce beers, my Sunday in Minnesota was finally over.

Monday: Woke up wondering why the room I got didn't come with a fridge. Janet and Quinn had fridges in their respective rooms, why didn't I? Not only did I not have a fridge, turns out that I got a room especially designed for handicapped people. The toilet was unusally high so that the wheelchair-confined could easily scoot from their wheelchairs to the toilet and vice versa. The shower had 3 railings for the disabled to cling onto. And there was no showerhead. Just one of those mobile spray hose thingy's that you could clamp except there was nothing to clamp since the clamp thingy was broken off. Was someone trying to tell me something? No worries, my slight anger subsided after drinking at least 7 beers (I stopped counting at 5) that night.

Tuesday: Today I learned, among other things, that we are the inventors of McDonald's breakfast burrito. To show my pride, I decided to take a break from beer tonight and do something more productive, so I went to the casino (which did not serve alcohol, thus the beer-free night). To prevent myself from losing a lot of mon-ay, I pondered whether or not shuttle bus driver (a different one) really slipped and "accidentally" gave me his home number. Ughhh, and I wasn't acting "happy" this time either.

Wednesday: Spent much of my day playing with a cool light pen I received that had fiber optic filaments which allowed it to change different colors when pressing a button. Sometimes it would even change colors on its own. I came into Minnesota looking for answers, but halfway through the week I have nothing but additional questions: How does the cool light pen change colors on its own? How do you get to the Denny's across the highway? Why did the chicken cross the road?

Celebrated Cinco de Mayo with my fellow work friends at a bar in the Mall of America. People were amazed at how fast I can drink a beer. And I was on TV!!! My 5 seconds of fame on TV was spent saying, "Go Timberwolves!" (because the TV guy told us to). Oh btw - lesson learned - don't spend Cinco de Mayo in Minnesota.

Thursday: Because I never received an answer to my "How do you get to Denny's?" question, I went to Cattle Country for dinner where I literally ate all alone as everyone was home watching the final Friends episode. To celebrate the final episode, more beer...

Friday: Stupid taxi driver thought he was ripping me off when he took the long way driving me back to the airport. Then I pulled out the corporate card. Stupid driver, you aren't ripping me off, you're ripping my company off. Hah hah, now I get the last laugh. Mu-hah-hah-hah...

***End exclusive***

Am I Wrong?

First off, thanks to work wifey Michelle for confirming what I have been hearing in my head over the last few months - BORING. Yah, Brain Droppings has gone pretty stale since the onset of WrestleMania depression back in March. WrestleMania depression must have set in for Carl and Eric too; though they aren't wrasslin' fans, the thought of missing an opportunity to see oily, grown-up men grabbing and attempting to pin each other has caused both to become truly "happy," which must be the reason why neither queer has posted anything lately on their respective blogs...

...Back to moi...I don't typically buy clothes* unless it's on an as-needed basis, but since I'm travelling to Minneapolis for the week, I thought it would be a good idea to wear some genuinely fresh work clothes (i.e. not Febreze'd and not specially designated "the one" for the day because it was the shirt or pants with the least amount of wrinkles). And since I don't typically buy clothes, I went to a store that I deemed "work clothes worthy": JC Penney's. And since I don't typically buy clothes, buying almost $400 worth of clothes for only about $250 because everything I picked up was on sale so majorly kicked ass....

And since I don't typically buy clothes, what I did when picking out clothes was find a style that I thought was OK (because any guy that "likes" a style is not a guy), and pick up a couple clothes of that style, just in different colors. So, when all was said and done, I bought 3 pairs of the same style pants in different colors, 2 crew neck shirts in different colors, 2 polos in different colors and 2 button-up shirts in different colors. I know this is a pretty "happy" question to ask, but is this clothing taboo in a way similar to Avi wearing dark colored pants with white gym socks? Just asking...

*As opposed to renting clothes, which I have never done in the past, nor plan on doing in the future