I’ll be back after the Fourth.
It’s high time to celebrate and cook some bitchin’ stuff on the grill…
My best to all!
Stay safe and be FREE….
Up at 4:30am.
Crappy nights sleep.
Toofache. Damn thing hurts, too.
Arrive at work and begin making calls to oral surgeons because my dentist is on vaca.
Their motto, “We’re not happy, until you’re not happy.” I’m not happy.
Wait on customers.
Boss comes in and asks what’s wrong.
Bad toothache, I say.
Boss picks up phone and calls a customer that just happens to be a dentist.
Send him right over, he says.
Boss points to the door.
Off I go.
Needles, X-rays, shiny steel implements of torture designed to rip tooth from bone.
Open wide. Anxiety. Eternity. Blood. Pressure. I’m shaking.
Pop. Relief. More blood, less bone.
Back to work.
Fast asleep on the train home.
Going to bed right after I post.
How was your day?
I’ve finally stepped off my soapbox regarding my BloggyAward fiasco; they still suck the big one, but I want to stop talking about them.
What’s done is done.
It’s nice to see some new visitors stopping by and leaving comments. I happened to see my friend James the other day, unexpectedly. I obviously had to tell him about the blog. It seems a much better way of catching up with me for someone that hasn’t seen me in some time.
I was listening to a favorite podcast today (Distorted View) and heard a story regarding a recent Maury Povich Show.
He had on a girl that was afraid of….um…err…pickles.
Click on the link above to go to YouTube and watch as she goes postal when Maury gets near her with a bumpy pickle.
Maybe she was beaten to within an inch of her life with a few Jewish half sours.
I don’t know. I say she’s nuts. The video is pretty hilarious.
I’m not afraid of much.
Whether it’s the dark, horror movies, thunderstorms, lightning, funhouses, there’s nothing at all in the way of fright for me.
However, show me a yellowjacket, white-faced hornet, bumblebee or a wasp — basically anything that buzzes and has a stinger and I’ll run for the hills like a little girl.
You should see me mowing my lawn . Somedays I look like I have some bizarre twitching disorder with the amount of jumping around that I do. Oh, I hate horseflies too.
Many years ago, I was playing a nightclub down on Cape Cod. It was summer and during the day we would all go to the beach. One day, I happened to get stung by a nasty horsefly on the side of my knee. That night my leg swelled up like a float in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. And you want to talk about itchy? Oh, Gaad…
I was seeking out women with long nails that night.
(Puuhlease, scratch my leg? Pretty please?)
I had to wear shorts and sandals that night. I couldn’t even break down equipment because I couldn’t physically bend over for fear that I’d “rip” my leg.
I’m sure I was taking some kind of allergy pill for the swelling. Didn’t matter though, the sucker wouldn’t go down. When I got back home, with my big, fat and overly ripe leg, I went to the ER and told them about my problem.
One thing you never want to hear an ER physician say is, “Wow.”
He looked at my leg and said it anyway and asked if I’d mind if he brought a few more doctors in to have a look. What the hell, I said, I’m cheap entertainment.
A different doctor came in to the room and bent down examining my leg. He pinged it, much like you would a fine glass made of crystal.
“Wow,” he said, amazed (and oddly amused).
I was now two for two.
What scares the bejeezus out of you?
ps. I’ll be trying to catch up on my blog reading over the weekend.
These 12-14 hour days have been kicking my butt…
Just thought I’d give all of you an explanation as to what happened last week with my little problem with BloggyAward.com (BA).
First of all, I have a huge bone to pick with BA mainly because I was indirectly affected by some carelessly used administrative privileges.
When my blog was first reviewed by these guys (boobs), there was an image that accompanied it.
Little did I know that BA had basically linked to the image which was currently stored at an entirely innocuous website: The Dutch Country Players , a theatrical group from Telford, Pennsylvania; a legit organization that don’t need this kind of grief.
Are you with me?
The Dutch Players found out that BA had been linking to them (and their gif image) and for all intents and purposes using it without permission or consent from the DCP.
After repeated attempts by them to contact (like me, grrrr) an administrator to either replace the image or store it on their own server, the Dutch Players decided to get nasty (can you blame them?) and they changed the linked image to something that should have gotten BA’s attention.
Did it work?
Fucking BloggyAwards. Asleep at the wheel.
(& yes, I wrote the “F” word twice)
I was indirectly affected and now you know the real truth why.
I want to give a huge shout out to my friend Gerry who basically investigated this entire ordeal. He tells me that the DCPs have no beef with me—it’s BloggyAward. (what a fucking surprise)
I guess there’s only one thing left to say:
Bloggy Award? I don’t really care what you thought of my blog, good or bad.
You guys suck.
Oh, and thanks for getting back to me, dickheads…
ps. the image is now gone.
Thank you, DCP.
I do feel your pain.
God is sitting in Heaven when a scientist says to Him, "Lord, we don't need you anymore. Science has finally figured out a way to create life out of nothing. In other words, we can now do what you did in the beginning."
"Oh, is that so? Tell me."replies God.
"Well," says the scientist, "we can take dirt and form it into the likeness of You and breathe life into it, thus creating man."
"Well, that's interesting. Show Me."
So the scientist bends down to the earth and starts to mold the soil.
"Oh no, no, no…" interrupts God,
"Get your own dirt."
ps. thanks JB
The thick clouds in greyscale, offer up an abbreviated vision of the bleak Boston skyline
and mimic my gunmetal mood
As the roar of the city saturates my grey matter…
like the perpetual rains that soak into the all too marshy ground
The sun don’t lie, but the clouds do
Dormant memories of long forgotten summer days rise and fall; red and yellow buoys in a restless ocean, heaven’s sole mirror
My tired mind wants desperately the tranquility of endless slumber and my eyes begin to close
as the promise of today fades seemlessly into the possibility of tomorrow
…and a sky of deep, blue hope.
ps. this post is my brain mainlining…Charlie Mingus
Click HERE for a thought provoking post from Deb Woehr.
It's a classic…especially if you have kids in school.
You rock, Deb.
I was looking at my blog stats this morning and noticed a URL I hadn’t seen in sometime.
The ref link was from bloggyaward.com, the site that reviewed my blog a little while ago.
Hmm…interesting; I clicked on the link because something struck me as odd.
You know how sometimes things just don’t look right?
I arrived at the destination page and realized with much horror why someone clicked the link for my site. I’m also assuming they left my site unfulfilled. To see what I’m talking about read my “Close, but no cigar” post and click on the bloggyaward link.
One caveat: if you’re easily offended by sleazy pornography, please go elsewhere.
You have been warned.
I’ve tried to get in touch with the site administrator but it seems virtually impossible.
I’m wondering whether this is some kind of cruel hoax or whether the site itself has been hacked.
I love my blog dearly and this kinda hurts. I wanted to post if only to clear my blog's name.
I’m not easily offended but I find what’s happened here to be repulsive and irreprehensible to the highest degree.
I work hard at my blog and this is a violent slap in the face.
And yes, I am pissed.
If anyone has any ideas as to how I can remedy the situation, I’d love to hear from you.
I'm all out of answers.
The jpeg below is what used to be where the current pic is.
If this post doesn't elicit numerous comments, I don't know what will…
How many Guinness did I have?
The bedspins are gonna be killer tonight…
I’ve told my wife.
I’ve told my friends.
I’ve even gone so far as to tell people that don’t even know me that under no uncertain terms should I be allowed to so much as breathe should I ever be caught wearing socks with sandals, especially black socks.
I’ve instructed my wife to go and get my grandfather’s rosewood
Billy club (he was a cop) and give me a few well placed whacks on the back of my head, if only to temporarily put me out of my misery and remove me from my obviously deteriorating state of mind.
When brain cells start flocking over to the uncool side, it’s time to pull the proverbial curtains. The BSWS, or “black socks with sandals” illness is just one sign.
Those big ass sunglasses that fit over your regular specs are another.
I’ve always wanted to ask these people if they’re planning on doing a little spot welding that day. They looked pretty cool on George Shearing.
Let’s just leave it at that.
I guess I never want someone to look at me and say, “Oh, man. Check it out. Black socks with sandals. What a freekin’ shame. He used to be so cool.”
Picture this: Moses (Charlton Heston) comes down from Mount Sinai holding the Ten Commandments and he’s wearing black knee high’s under his sandal straps.
Kinda loses a little bit of credibility with masses, huh?
He’d be forever known as Charlton “Uncool” Heston.
So, here’s the one commandment he forgot to mention:
Thou shalt not wear black socks with sandals.
I rest my case.