Cutting off Your Own Head With a Chainsaw

This made me laugh.

When did Saturday happen?

Regardless of how I was feeling I was going to go to work. I'm sure the stuff was piling on my desk, creating a hazardous environment. Last time I was out for a couple of days the paperwork alone made my office a designated hardhat area. Plus, if I were to stay cooped up one more day I was going to have to start shooting people from my bedroom window.

So I dragged my drugged ass out of bed, took a shower, shaved, got dressed. managed to get into my truck without killing myself. Drove to the office.

To an empty parking lot.

Barren.

Void of cars.

That's right. In my addled state I thought today was Friday.

Haven't regrouped yet. My mind is still in weekday mode. And now I'm all dressed up and no place to go. I thought about going into the office anyway, but then I came to my senses.

Now my goals for the day have changed. They now involve Vicodin and cartoons.

Ow

In pain. With a capital P.

Underline.

Bold.

Italics.

24 point font.

My neck's been hurting since Monday. Yesterday morning it was hurting a little more. Regardless, I took a shower and as I lifted my arm to wash my hair, pain shot down my entire left hand side, almost causing me to collapse.

I'm pretty sure my exact words were, "OW?"

It went downhill from there. By 9 I was sitting in the doctor's office, listening to how my computer was the bitch that gave birth to a bouncing baby pinched nerve.

So for the last 15 hours I've been drugged and passed out. I'm on Vicodin & steroids (just something a 6'3" 270lb guy needs). It's been driving me crazy, so I thought I'd throw caution to the wind and do a post about it before I take my next pill.


Ouch.

Grill Skillz

80s.
Wendy's.
Rap.
Training.
Video.

'nuff said.

Perfect

I found my resume, blew off the digital dust, and am now updating. I'll send it over to Blizzard tonight. But I found something in addition in my personal archives at home.

After my divorce from Jean (That's what I decided to call my ex) last year, I made a map for my life. That included all of my goals in great detail. One of the key things was who I wanted to be with, my perfect partner.

I described her in great detail, almost 2 pages worth. As I read it to myself, I am still amazed at how closely it describes ChaCha, even after how biased I've become in the 8 months I've been seeing her. For the record, when I wrote that I would not meet her for another 2 months. It's incredible that I put that out into the universe and found her. I keep inadvertently reminding myself as to how marvelous and wonderful she is.

I hope that I match hers someday.

Let this be a lesson to everyone. In order to get what you want, decide what you want.




Due to its length I'm not posting it here, but if you would like to see a copy, feel free to email me on my gmail account (caffeinefrenzy).

Giddy

As the Chinese say, "Find a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life."

ChaCha sent me this press release.

...

Wow. (Literally).

World. Of. Friggin. Warcraft.

Yes, I'm so much of a geek that I would take a pay cut for this job. (Not a big one. I may be excited, geeky and crazy, but I'm not stupid). I figure I may as well get paid for all the hours I spend playing that game.

I'm almost bouncing in my seat for the sheer possibility.

Now I need to find my resume, and start making myself irresistible.


After all, that's not hard to do. I AM quite a catch, ya know.

Crazy people

I was thinking about crazy people today. Not the psychotics or the sociopaths, just your everyday, run-of-the-mill wackos.

How sad it must be to be "treated," or worse yet, "cured."

Think about it. One day you're Emperor of the Universe with superpowers, then you start getting treatment and taking medications. Now you're just a normal schlub.

Personally, I'd rather be convinced of my delusions, and be happy making my minions doing my bidding.




"Even if the voices in my head aren't real, they still have some pretty good ideas..."
-Unk

My Creepy Radio

The radio in my truck is psychic. Or empathetic. Or possessed. Or just evil.

It's something relatively new. It plays songs that amplify my mood. Whatever I'm feeling, it plays songs that directly amplify that feeling.

This is a problem.

I have control over my emotions. When I have a negative feeling I can mold it into something that empowers me.

Usually.

My radio won't let me.

Take this morning for example. Someone in a Lexus cut me off. On his cell phone (of course). Blatantly. Obviously. I have a truck, so it's not like he didn't see me. I normally get angry for 2.3 seconds, then let it go. But right as the feelings started to go away, "Killing in the Name" by Rage Against the Machine came on. Fuh. Real.

Still wanting to leave the bad place, I flipped to another station. "Last Resort" by Papa Roach.
Flip... "Get off of my Cloud" Rolling Stones.
Dammit. Flip to a pop station. "Losing Grip" by Avril Lavigne.

JEEZUS.
What CD do I have in? Can't remember. hit the button. "I Am" by Godsmack.

Holy Hell. I stabbed at the power button.

The damage was done.

I'd love to say that this was an isolated incident, but I'd be lying. Even the CDs I have always seem to queue up to the wrong song. If I put in a specific mix to make me feel a certain way, I get an error message and it spits the CD out.

It's evil, and it must be destroyed.

Reading the fine print

In Austin! I'll check this weekend to see if it still applies.
(click on the pic to see full size)

Mother's Day, Country Style

I got the rare opportunity to take out three (count'em, three) Moms yesterday. I drove down to San Antonio and took my folks, one sister and one of her kids, and said sister's in-laws to dinner at Bill Miller's. For those of you not from the south, Bill Miller's is in all essence BBQ fast food.

Yeah.

That's my roots. Getting together for a nice dinner on plastic trays.

We sat down and played my favorite game, one I like to call, "Guess who died?" I love my parents so much, but I'm beginning to realize exactly how old they're getting. At least they're cute about it. That, plus being country folk, make for a rousing game.

Other games they like to play:

• "Name that mystery ailment"
• "How the government is screwing me" (My sister's Father-in-law could go pro)
• "Who has a new relationship/is knocked up/is living in sin/is getting divorced/is seeing a [insert random ethnic group and/or religion]" (My Mom LIVES for this game)
• "Why haven't we met ChaCha yet?"

And my personal favorite...

• "Have you been going to church?"

I don't want to make it seem that my parents are hicks, because they aren't.

COMMA

They do play the part well.


Other than that, it was a really nice visit. I shouldn't have gone though, because ChaCha's been sick. I should have been there taking care of her. I have AWESOME bedside manner.