Spiders, that's what! And they are all over the damn place. Some were at my house, one was attempting to build a home in my car, and there were a ton of them at my work.
One of my co workers got bit by an unknown spider on her arm and she broke out in a huge rash within 20 minutes. Spiders are assholes!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
My Competing Hospital at its Best
It’s hard to imagine why a hospital would implant a Garmin in a patient during tonsil and sinus surgery, but such is the claim made by Michael Woolman of Lincoln, Nebraska. Perhaps it’s as simple as not wanting to lose track of him during a clinical trial? Let’s look at Woolman’s legal filing to get the heart of the matter.
Woolman says he was admitted to Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas for tonsil and sinus surgery. But during his post-op recovery, he claims to have found a bloody wound in his armpit. As he explained in his self-filed legal paperwork:
I was in ,”The Room after ,surgery& I needed ,to go to the bathroom .
I got up and a nurse assisted me to ,the bathroom.
I was going to the bathroom and , I finished.
All a sudden ,My cloth started falling off, I tried to pull ,my cloths up and ,,
My arm pit was bloody, Well I thought nothing of it, at the time.
Well , I came in for a since & noise surgery,? Why is my arm pit bloody ??????
Now after ,knowing ,what Bryan LGH was doing IS
Trying a new way to track people,
By inserting a GPS Device in people, Illegally.
You have to admit: That does sound fishy. You can see Woolman’s entire complaint here.
So far, Baylor hasn’t responded to the suit publicly.
For his part, we think Woolman is overlooking the fact that it’s an overall benefit to have built-in GPS. For starters, there’s no chance he’ll get lost on the long drive back to Lincoln
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
School Daze
God bless little Johnny who's sitting in class today on the first week of school, wishing for his mommy or death. I empathize with him. I remember my own stint in compulsory school too well.
I went to elementary school in one of those prison campuses. Cinder-block walls, concrete floors and a generous ration of getting knifed. We didn't use cigarettes as currency; we simply used currency to buy cigarettes, and more than a few of us became queens in order to survive. (OMIT, please. My parents read.)
One problem with my elementary imprisonment was that I was small and unable to enforce my own self-determination.
I remember being surrounded by third-grade classmates who I swore could produce offspring. Whereas I had dinner at 8, they had puberty at 8. There was even a kid named Charles who sat two rows from me that had a mustache, and a handle-bar one at that, which meant he could not only kick my ass, but could pass as a gentleman in 19th century British India.
Perhaps I'm remembering the details of youth poorly, but what I don't recall in factual particulars, I compensate with absolute emotional accuracy. It was a bad place. I felt alone.
The main thing that made school feel like prison to me was the duration. Every day of second grade felt like five to 10 for B and E. I majored in clock watching, and I simply couldn't wait to get out of there to go play in a creek or reenact Star Wars in makeshift costumes.
I wonder how many other people remember their elementary experience as vividly as I do. I once loved a girl who couldn't recall the names of her first, second and third grade teachers. I don't understand that. I remember all of mine and how they told me I was an "idiot with a disjointed body."
I'll never forget the first time our principal, Mrs. Withers, came on the wooden-framed loudspeaker and announced that school was over in a voice branded with a three-pack-a-day habit. "Have a Marlboro summer," she said, and then it was off to freedom. Paroled, until the infraction of summer fun was punished once more with scholastic incarceration.
I don't miss it. Nothing in my adult life has felt like the grind of the school year.
So hang in there, little Johnny. I still feel your pain.
I went to elementary school in one of those prison campuses. Cinder-block walls, concrete floors and a generous ration of getting knifed. We didn't use cigarettes as currency; we simply used currency to buy cigarettes, and more than a few of us became queens in order to survive. (OMIT, please. My parents read.)
One problem with my elementary imprisonment was that I was small and unable to enforce my own self-determination.
I remember being surrounded by third-grade classmates who I swore could produce offspring. Whereas I had dinner at 8, they had puberty at 8. There was even a kid named Charles who sat two rows from me that had a mustache, and a handle-bar one at that, which meant he could not only kick my ass, but could pass as a gentleman in 19th century British India.
Perhaps I'm remembering the details of youth poorly, but what I don't recall in factual particulars, I compensate with absolute emotional accuracy. It was a bad place. I felt alone.
The main thing that made school feel like prison to me was the duration. Every day of second grade felt like five to 10 for B and E. I majored in clock watching, and I simply couldn't wait to get out of there to go play in a creek or reenact Star Wars in makeshift costumes.
I wonder how many other people remember their elementary experience as vividly as I do. I once loved a girl who couldn't recall the names of her first, second and third grade teachers. I don't understand that. I remember all of mine and how they told me I was an "idiot with a disjointed body."
I'll never forget the first time our principal, Mrs. Withers, came on the wooden-framed loudspeaker and announced that school was over in a voice branded with a three-pack-a-day habit. "Have a Marlboro summer," she said, and then it was off to freedom. Paroled, until the infraction of summer fun was punished once more with scholastic incarceration.
I don't miss it. Nothing in my adult life has felt like the grind of the school year.
So hang in there, little Johnny. I still feel your pain.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Crazy Dreams
For the past couple of weeks, I have had some weird crazy dreams. And by weird crazy, I mean these dreams actually wake me and I need to make sure that I am not in the particular situation that I was in the dream.
For instance, I had a dream last night that I was in high school playing baseball with a bunch of friends after school in a nice suburban neighborhood. It seemed fun at first but once it become a little dark outside, all hell broke loose.
When it became dark, the safe neighborhood became a war zone that is normally found in third world countries. People were being targeted and shot as everyone was racing to get home safely. We had to dodge bullets by hiding behind cars, fences, or anything else we could find. It reminded me of the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan except it was in a run down neighborhood instead of a beach.
When i finally made it to my home, it was a wooden shack that no bigger than the cheapest cabin on the lowest level of a cruise ship. The only thing in there was a bed, pillow, and a dirty blanket. As I was going to bed in my dream, the people who were shooting at us earlier started to shoot and break in my cabin and kidnap me. This is when I woke up from the dream and it took me forever to fall back asleep.
Another dream I had was not as intense as the previous story, but still awkward. Basically in this dream, I kept on walking down a hallway that never ended. As I walked down the hallway, people that i knew through out my life would pop out from doors and make me eat all types of food until I literally exploded in my dream.
I have had other crazy dreams as well but I can not remember too clearly, but if I have anymore, I will try and write them down as I remember them.
For instance, I had a dream last night that I was in high school playing baseball with a bunch of friends after school in a nice suburban neighborhood. It seemed fun at first but once it become a little dark outside, all hell broke loose.
When it became dark, the safe neighborhood became a war zone that is normally found in third world countries. People were being targeted and shot as everyone was racing to get home safely. We had to dodge bullets by hiding behind cars, fences, or anything else we could find. It reminded me of the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan except it was in a run down neighborhood instead of a beach.
When i finally made it to my home, it was a wooden shack that no bigger than the cheapest cabin on the lowest level of a cruise ship. The only thing in there was a bed, pillow, and a dirty blanket. As I was going to bed in my dream, the people who were shooting at us earlier started to shoot and break in my cabin and kidnap me. This is when I woke up from the dream and it took me forever to fall back asleep.
Another dream I had was not as intense as the previous story, but still awkward. Basically in this dream, I kept on walking down a hallway that never ended. As I walked down the hallway, people that i knew through out my life would pop out from doors and make me eat all types of food until I literally exploded in my dream.
I have had other crazy dreams as well but I can not remember too clearly, but if I have anymore, I will try and write them down as I remember them.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
10 YEARS!!
This past Saturday, I attended my 10 year high school reunion at a little bar called Froggy's Boathouse in Fort Worth.
To be honest, I really didn't have high expectations at all. I checked out Froggy's Boathouse from facebook and other sites with comments on them and none of them looked appealing at all. Plus it was no where near a lake or any other body of water.
At first there was not a lot of people there at all. Probably because I showed up right when the event was suppose to start, but there was light at the end of the tunnel. At that light was located at the bar.
When I picked up my name tag, I was informed that our group already had a prepaid bill to the amount of $800. Since the drinks were cheap anyway ($1 beers and $3 wells), I was kind of glad that not a lot of people were there at first.
After about 20 to 30 minutes into the event, a ton of people started to show up. The place quickly got crowded with all types of people that I haven seen since high school and some people that I haven't seen since the night before at a happy hour event.
More people showed up than expected our reunion quickly became 97% of the the customers that night. So many people showed up that we took over part of the volleyball court with people just standing around and talking to each other.
Although we had the bar rented from 6 to 10, the public could still come in and that was taking up room that we desperately needed. Since we already hit the $800 mark and had less then 20 minutes left at Froggy's, we decided that a change of venue would be the best idea.
A couple of blocks over and 10 minutes later, the Martin High School Class of 2001 decided to take over a watering hole named The Capital Bar. This was a probably one of the better choices the was made through out the night.
The Capital Bar was large enough not only to hold our entire group, but had plenty of space to hold to people who were just coming in for a random drink that night. Another plus was the stage out in back where a decent college alt-rock band did a quasi good job with playing a music.
After several hours at The Capital Bar, it was time to call it a night and head come (by way of a dd of course). It was pretty good time and I am actually suprised that no one repeated or attempt to renact any of these lines/scenes from Grosse Point Blank.
To be honest, I really didn't have high expectations at all. I checked out Froggy's Boathouse from facebook and other sites with comments on them and none of them looked appealing at all. Plus it was no where near a lake or any other body of water.
At first there was not a lot of people there at all. Probably because I showed up right when the event was suppose to start, but there was light at the end of the tunnel. At that light was located at the bar.
When I picked up my name tag, I was informed that our group already had a prepaid bill to the amount of $800. Since the drinks were cheap anyway ($1 beers and $3 wells), I was kind of glad that not a lot of people were there at first.
After about 20 to 30 minutes into the event, a ton of people started to show up. The place quickly got crowded with all types of people that I haven seen since high school and some people that I haven't seen since the night before at a happy hour event.
More people showed up than expected our reunion quickly became 97% of the the customers that night. So many people showed up that we took over part of the volleyball court with people just standing around and talking to each other.
Although we had the bar rented from 6 to 10, the public could still come in and that was taking up room that we desperately needed. Since we already hit the $800 mark and had less then 20 minutes left at Froggy's, we decided that a change of venue would be the best idea.
A couple of blocks over and 10 minutes later, the Martin High School Class of 2001 decided to take over a watering hole named The Capital Bar. This was a probably one of the better choices the was made through out the night.
The Capital Bar was large enough not only to hold our entire group, but had plenty of space to hold to people who were just coming in for a random drink that night. Another plus was the stage out in back where a decent college alt-rock band did a quasi good job with playing a music.
After several hours at The Capital Bar, it was time to call it a night and head come (by way of a dd of course). It was pretty good time and I am actually suprised that no one repeated or attempt to renact any of these lines/scenes from Grosse Point Blank.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Almost Beat The Heat
I hate falling short when it comes to breaking records, especially when it is only by a couple of days.
In 1980, Texas had a heat wave with weather in the triple digits that last for 42 days. We lasted only 40 days in a row until a small cold front and rain came by and screwed everything up. We had two days that were at 99 degrees as a high and quickly went back to triple degree heat.
One thing that bothered me more than nothing beating the current heat record was hearing people say stupid stuff about not beating the heat record.
One phrase that I heard people, mainly guys, say that bothered me for some reason was "man, it is hot as balls today". That phrase bothers me more than that stupid "Steal My Sunshine" song by LEN. I honestly don't know how that retarded song became so popular.
I don't like to say that anything is "hot as balls" because I am not a fan of simile and mainly because the balls specifically hang lower than the rest of the body to technically remain at a cooler temperature. Literally, the balls are the coldest temperature of the body. People should say anything other than "hot as balls" like "hot as the body minus balls", "hot as any other body part", "hot as the balls in the winter when they go back up to be a team player". Winter balls are actually hotter than summer balls. Its a strange mystery, but at least I solved it.
I know that is probably a stupid reason to hate a particular phrase, but it a good reason to reason so I am just going to roll with it.
Anyway, we are expected to have more triple digit heat for a while longer but I don't know if I can handle more of these 100 plus degree weather days.
In 1980, Texas had a heat wave with weather in the triple digits that last for 42 days. We lasted only 40 days in a row until a small cold front and rain came by and screwed everything up. We had two days that were at 99 degrees as a high and quickly went back to triple degree heat.
One thing that bothered me more than nothing beating the current heat record was hearing people say stupid stuff about not beating the heat record.
One phrase that I heard people, mainly guys, say that bothered me for some reason was "man, it is hot as balls today". That phrase bothers me more than that stupid "Steal My Sunshine" song by LEN. I honestly don't know how that retarded song became so popular.
I don't like to say that anything is "hot as balls" because I am not a fan of simile and mainly because the balls specifically hang lower than the rest of the body to technically remain at a cooler temperature. Literally, the balls are the coldest temperature of the body. People should say anything other than "hot as balls" like "hot as the body minus balls", "hot as any other body part", "hot as the balls in the winter when they go back up to be a team player". Winter balls are actually hotter than summer balls. Its a strange mystery, but at least I solved it.
I know that is probably a stupid reason to hate a particular phrase, but it a good reason to reason so I am just going to roll with it.
Anyway, we are expected to have more triple digit heat for a while longer but I don't know if I can handle more of these 100 plus degree weather days.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
The Noid: Behind the Music
Do you remember The Noid from the Domino's commercials a few decades ago. He was a villainous red-suited character with red rabbit ears who attempted to ruin Domino's pizza but was constantly thwarted. Well that crazy pizza hating son of a bitch is back.
Growing up, Noid was a sophisticated class act, with dark eyes and never a piece of hair to be seen. He had rich parents who were professors of philosophy and economics at Harvard. By the time he was 13, Noid had academically eclipsed his parents. He spent the rest of his teenage years abroad, learning levitation with a Tibetan guru; safecracking and bomb defusing with a Parisian double agent; dancing for a time with the Stuttgart Ballet — the usual classical education.
An expert fencer and horsewoman, Noid has been a government aerospace engineer and on-call consultant for NASA. He was also an early pioneer in the creation of the laptop computer. Noid is so on top of everything, it’s easy to bore him and hard to keep him amused. No known drawbacks.
Smitten with actress Natalie Portman, he resided in an impeccable loft in downtown Los Angeles. He drove a vintage silver Mercedes convertible, license plate number 340-JAN. He worshiped Martha Stewart, despite the fact that she is cursed in the kitchen.
Then he found stardom with Domino's pizza. He played a character that was obsessed with overthrowing Domino's power and sabotaging all of their pizzas. He was a huge success and popular in the mid to late 80s. But nothing can last forever.
The fame and fortune got to The Noid's head and he pretty much became a prick.
The Noid became very wealthy, apparently making his fortune from his former real estate company ReyHam Properties, from which he swindled his business partner Eugene out of his share of the company, as well as foreign business deals, such as a Vietnamese sweatshop. Despite this wealth, The Noid could never keep his finances together and was forced to live in squalor with a drugged out Chester Cheetah in an apartment referred to by anyone who dares step into it as "a shit-hole".
Since then, he has gone through a consistent and prominent De-Evolution, drinking more and more, going to strip clubs. He also becomes more and more cruel, selfish, and greedy. Though The Noid is egotistical, diabolical, and maniacal, he appears to have some good in him; he seems to care greatly for Wendy from Wendy's. But that didn't stop his drug addiction.
The Noid became so addicted to drugs that he eventually became involved with pornography, street walking, and gambling.
The Noid became such a severe compulsive gambler that he has been seen betting on everything from grade school basketball to Russian roulette, usually with his chain smoking, and high-stakes betting ring of Vietnamese friends.
Once, during a drug induced rage, he waterboarded a Pizza Hut delivery man for looking at him the wrong way. When he was arrested, The Noid kept on repeating "I don't mean to impose, but I am the ocean."
He has had numerous run-ins with the police, having been arrested 12 times. During the time of his addiction, he was known for his debauchery. The Noid was ejected from the Gilded Balloon in Edinburgh, and he infamously introduced his drug dealer to Kylie Minogue during his time at MTV.
Everything changed once he met and became romantically involved with Kathy Griffin. After 8 years with her, The Noid is now a former heroin and sex addict and a recovering alcoholic.
He has abstained from drug use since 2002 and is now a patron of the addiction charity Focus 12. His abandonment of drugs and alcohol was instigated by his agent, Ronald McDonald, after The Noid was caught taking heroin in a bathroom during his Christmas party.
At Kathy's request, he regularly attends AA and NA meetings and cites his practice of the Transcendental Meditation technique as a significant factor in his recovery from drug addiction.
The Noid recently had his cousin,Kenneth Lamar Noid, move in to live with him and Kathy. On January 30, 1989, Kenneth Lamar Noid, a mentally ill customer who thought the Domino's ads were a personal attack on him, held two employees of an Atlanta, Georgia, Domino's restaurant hostage for over five hours. After forcing them to make him a pizza and making demands for $100,000, getaway transportation, and a copy of The Widow's Son, Noid surrendered to the police. After the incident had ended, police Chief Reed Miller offered a memorable assessment to reporters: "He's paranoid." Noid was charged with kidnapping, aggravated assault, extortion, and possession of a firearm during a crime. He was found not guilty by reason of insanity.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Broken Toes and Hoes
Last week, a couple of friends and I went to a bar called Gilligan's to have a couple of drinks and listen to people who are horrible at karaoke.
There were about 10 of us sitting at a large rectangular shaped table with people on all sides. We were being loud, drinking, and having a good time on a late Thursday night.
Next to our group of people was another group of people with the about the same number of people. Although, we did not know these people, a couple of the girls started to come over and talk to us.
One of the girls was named Jenny and she came over to introduce herself. The conversation went as followed:
Jenny: Hi, I am Jenny.
Me: Hi, I am Kevin, you have some red stuff all over your shirt.
Jenny: Oh, I know, my friend Samantha spilt her drink on me.
Samantha: Hi, I am Samantha.
Jenny and Samantha then sat down and shared a small chair with each other. Since the music/karaoke was extremely loud, i had a hard time hear what they were saying. So naturally, I moved my chair up to them in order to hear better. This was going to prove to be a bad move on my behalf.
I moved my chair closer to them by lifting the front legs of the chair and dragging the back legs of the chair. I then sat down as I was putting the two front legs of the chair back on the ground.
That is when I heard a very loud, painful scream.
Apparently, when I put the left front chair leg down, I placed the leg on her big left toe and broke the hell out of it. The toe nail was ripped completely off and the knuckle of her toe looked like Corky's face from the 80s show "Life Goes On".
Her friend Samantha immediately jumped out of her lap and sat next to me and paid absolutely no attention at all to Jenny's now disfigured toe. To be honest, I thought Jenny was joking around until I actually saw the toe. There is nothing like the sight of a drunk girl holding up her foot with her captain toe nail missing and blood dripping on the floor.
The bleeding was not that bad, it was as if someone accidentally poked themselves with a needle a shit load of times.
Since Jenny was pretty drunk at this point, she really didn't pay much attention to her toe after a minute had passed. She, as best as she could, stood up and got another drink from the bar and went back to her friends. the gross thing about all this was the fact that she refused to put her sandal back on.
So for the rest of the night, she was walking around the horrible gem infested floor that Gilligan's is proud to offer with her left foot barefoot. If you couldn't find Jenny, all you had to do to locate her is find the little bloody toe print that was all over the place and you would eventually find her.
There were about 10 of us sitting at a large rectangular shaped table with people on all sides. We were being loud, drinking, and having a good time on a late Thursday night.
Next to our group of people was another group of people with the about the same number of people. Although, we did not know these people, a couple of the girls started to come over and talk to us.
One of the girls was named Jenny and she came over to introduce herself. The conversation went as followed:
Jenny: Hi, I am Jenny.
Me: Hi, I am Kevin, you have some red stuff all over your shirt.
Jenny: Oh, I know, my friend Samantha spilt her drink on me.
Samantha: Hi, I am Samantha.
Jenny and Samantha then sat down and shared a small chair with each other. Since the music/karaoke was extremely loud, i had a hard time hear what they were saying. So naturally, I moved my chair up to them in order to hear better. This was going to prove to be a bad move on my behalf.
I moved my chair closer to them by lifting the front legs of the chair and dragging the back legs of the chair. I then sat down as I was putting the two front legs of the chair back on the ground.
That is when I heard a very loud, painful scream.
Apparently, when I put the left front chair leg down, I placed the leg on her big left toe and broke the hell out of it. The toe nail was ripped completely off and the knuckle of her toe looked like Corky's face from the 80s show "Life Goes On".
Her friend Samantha immediately jumped out of her lap and sat next to me and paid absolutely no attention at all to Jenny's now disfigured toe. To be honest, I thought Jenny was joking around until I actually saw the toe. There is nothing like the sight of a drunk girl holding up her foot with her captain toe nail missing and blood dripping on the floor.
The bleeding was not that bad, it was as if someone accidentally poked themselves with a needle a shit load of times.
Since Jenny was pretty drunk at this point, she really didn't pay much attention to her toe after a minute had passed. She, as best as she could, stood up and got another drink from the bar and went back to her friends. the gross thing about all this was the fact that she refused to put her sandal back on.
So for the rest of the night, she was walking around the horrible gem infested floor that Gilligan's is proud to offer with her left foot barefoot. If you couldn't find Jenny, all you had to do to locate her is find the little bloody toe print that was all over the place and you would eventually find her.
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