2008-03-26 08:23:25 PDT
Apparently I am a 65-year-old man: I have a hernia. And of course I'm an idiot and Googled all sorts of terrifying sub-literate posts from people with hernias on Web MD-style sites, stuff like "ZOMRG my gutshurts when I coughy: is hurna?" and "My neighbour had a hernia...HE THOUGHT...but it was really cancer of the hernia." So now every time I sneeze I'm pressing my hand fearfully to my lower belly like my intestines are about to burst out like some cross between
Alien and
Saving Private Ryan. I'm such a freak.
Seriously though, fucker hurts, and I'm not sure what's safe for me to do. I had to quit running on the treadmill, but is fast walking with the puppy okay? (Well, I guess the puppy part is non-negotiable if I'm going for a w-a-l-k; Simon has perfect the art of "You're leaving? Without the puppy? But...puppy too? Puppy too! Puuupppy tooooo!!" pathetic eyes to the point where I'm on the verge of taking him with me to Spanish. "Perro tambien?")
Aaargh.
2008-01-12 01:08:07 PDT
The crazy alcoholic couple downstairs has been getting along lately, mostly. It
could have something to do with the fact that they haven't been drinking for a few months. But tonight, I came home to hits of the '80s blasting from the basement suite, and the Giant from
Twin Peaks appeared to me in a pool of light and announced that it was happening again. That was at about 10.15. It's now 12.30, and they've really got down to the insanity.
Crazy Woman: So you're saying I'm bad in bed?
Fiona: *boggle*
Dude: mumblemumble
CW: What, am I boring? Am I? AM I?
Dude: mumb...blemumble?
CW: Don't give me that horseshit!
Foreigner: I would like to know what love is?
Dude: mumble. mumblemumble!
CW: No, that wasn't it. You weren't even drinking then! You weren't drunk, so don't even-- what, you don't like my TITS?!
Fiona: OH JESUS
Dude: mumble!
CW: I am NOT asking dumb questions!
Foreigner: I would like you to show me?
CW: You cheated on me, man!
Dude: mumBLE! MUMBLE!
Foreigner: Also, I would like to feel what love is?
CW: I NEVER fucked other guys! I WAS ALWAYS THERE! EVERY FUCKING TIME!
*SMASH!* *SMASHITY!*
CW: IT'S ALL FUCKIN' LIES! *smash* Loser! *smash* DICK...DICKASS!
Foreigner: I know you can show-- wait, "dickass?"
Oh, the Foreigner just gave way to "Against All Odds" by Phil Collins. I LOVE IT. I am a bad person. But you know, I figure them doing this this way pays my admission. Drunks thrive on this crap.
2007-08-22 00:59:33 PDT
Watching Mario Lemieux on
Biography. Staggering. I mean, he flies into Philadelphia hours after undergoing his final radiation treatment for Hodgkin's lymphoma and notches a goal and an assist, because, you know, fuck you. Then, after missing two months of the season and trailing Pat LaFontaine by 12 points in the race for the scoring title, he gets 160 points in 60 games to
beat LaFontaine by 12 points. Yeah. I'm pretty sure Mario Lemieux is Batman.
Among all hockey players, Mario somehow, to me, best symbolizes the wonderful accident of talent. Gretzky is cerebral, Orr the explosive heart, Yzerman pure guts. But Lemieux is the spirit, serene, sure enough of the guiding force to be playful. I envy that; not so much the hockey talent, but that sense of instinct, or at least the appearance of it. The grace of it, like having a constant true compass in your chest.
Poor Pat LaFontaine, though, eh? "Man, I have got it nailed down this year! I...
...Oh."
2007-08-20 03:09:33 PDT
Um, maybe the screaming drunkfight in the downstairs suite can end now so I can go to sleep?! It's centred on whether or not the two of them can quit drinking or not, and whose fault it is that they drink all the time, and who stole whose pack of smokes off the dashboard of the truck. The woman keeps calling the guy "man," as in "Awwww fyuck yooo maaan, why wonyou lemme use your PHONE? How many timesve I leyoo yooose my phone? Like 4 times this week, man, okay man?" And then the dude gave her directions to a nearby payphone. He wasn't even kidding, either. I think he thought he was being helpful. Jesus, I hate drunks. Fucking hate 'em.
It's this endless horrible cycle down there, always-- this type of fight is just a microcosm of the whole relationship, you know, where two people are absolutely poisonously miserable together but somehow it bonds them in some sick way. Like two rabid bats that somehow ran into one another mid-air because the rabies broke their sonar or something, and now they can't fly because their crepey dirty wings are wrapped around one another's throats, so they're plummeting towards the earth but still they won't let go and fly away because they're too busy fighting about which bat gave the other bat rabies in the first place.
But you know, some couples just...hate each other. They do. That hate is the only thing bonding them. It gives them permission to be at their worst, all the time. Then they have an excuse to stay permanently fucked up addiction-wise or happiness-wise or mental health-wise; whatever rut it is they're in, they can stay there as long as they have someone to hate and blame who hates and blames them. That sounds like a greeting card, doesn't it?
Hmmm. This all made more sense in my head than it does here-- especially the bats-- but I'm not usually up and typing at 3am. I'm going to go climb in with Clay, who hogs the bed but never tries to bite me. Maybe we need to take a bunch of mescaline or something before the drunks start to make sense.
2007-08-14 23:23:56 PDT
So, what do you get the young liberal newlywed who turns thirty today? Karl Rove's resignation! Happy Birthday, Jason!
Actually though I don't feel celebratory about Rove's leaving-- I feel as though he got away with something. Well, he obviously did, we all know that-- but I mean, got away with something extra, you know? As if he's cackling all the way home to supposedly spend more time with his family, which is the explanation given for his resignation. There's just not enough shame in it for him. Not to mention that I'm not at all convinced that the revolting porcine fucker is even really gone. It's like Terminator 2; you know Rove's just frozen and blown to pieces right now, but those pieces will melt and run back together, and soon he'll be reformed and at the side of Rudy Giuliani.
The Jesus
"I'm one of the baddest motherfuckers of all time, one of the best singers, and one of the best lookin' motherfuckers you've ever seen.
Hold my drink, bitch."
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