No Photos

The photos that I had linked to have been removed from this blog, so I removed the text. 

 

Two can play at this game!

Rashes, Ticks & Chicks Who Perform Surgery

I picked up a sweet case of Lyme disease a few years back. I almost died, but was saved by a Doctor named Kuntz. No matter how you pronounce his name (I think you know how I do), you’d think I learned my lesson. Apparently I didn’t.

What I should have gotten from the incident is to BUNDLE the eff up when outside! My issue is I HATE THE HEAT! I also work at breakneck speed, which means I build up a lot more heat that is quickly transferred to sweat. Ladies, admit that’s sexy! That said, I often times do not wear long sleeves when working outside. But here’s the additional problem. I am HIGHLY allergic to poison sumac. Poison Sumac is listed as the most toxic plant species in the United States by some dude named Frankel on Wikipedia. My “Popeye like” forearms (as Amy Martin called them on Facebook yesterday) would tend to agree.

Last Sunday 3/13, I took down the swing set that cocked up our yard since we moved in back in 2006. I had toyed with the idea of fixing it up for my nieces and nephew and even my own kid if we ever get around to having any. But year after year it fell deeper into disrepair. What would have been a coat of paint 5 years ago, was now a complete overhaul. Well fuck it! I figured I’d tear the bitch down. How long could that take? An hour? Try four. It would have been easier if I didn’t remove the screws & nails. But I happen to like my trash men and don’t want to give them tetanus (or any other anus for that matter). After all, they know where I live!

During the destruction process, I sliced my left hand middle finger. A bad finger to injure as it is in constant use when people piss me off. I wore gloves but took them off for all of 2 minutes. That’s when I tore the hell out of my hand. It’s in such a precarious spot that I rip it open on average of twice a day. My wedding ring is the prime culprit in keeping the injury from healing. I’m sure someone more clever than I can think of a witty, ironic statement there. However I love my wife, so you can keep you Noel Cowardesque comments to yourself.

That brings us to Friday evening. I had take Friday off, after all Thursday was St Patty’s Day. After it was determined that Julie’s car was dead I decided to pull all the weeds out in the yard. I knew I wouldn’t get to all of them as it was getting dark, but I figured I could get a good head start and finish on Saturday. That’s exactly what I did. Got through about 1/5 of the yard with no harm & no foul…as far as I knew.

The next day I woke up and started right back into it. I worked until 2pm and showered since my brother Erick was having a Patty’s Day party. When I got out of the shower my left forearm started to itch. “Maybe slightly irritated by the weeds this afternoon,” I thought. I wore long leaves just to keep it from spreading to other areas or other people.

The next morning I woke up with a reaction to the poisonous weeds all down my left arm. DAMMIT! It then hit me that this happens to me EVERY year! Then I remembered that not only does it hit me every year, but it takes about 40 hours to hit me, which meant this was from Friday’s work, not Saturday’s. Uh-oh. Sunday it got progressively worse. I decided to take a second shower midday to try and help relieve the itching. When I got out of the shower I noticed a “mole on my left arm (it’s all on my left!) that looked like it was pealing off. This actually happened to me once before when I “snagged” a mole on something. I had a Dermatologist remove it when that happened. I looked in the mirror and touched it. It hurt. And it moved. Wait what? Moles don’t move. Oh crap! A dirty tick! I pulled out the tweezers and decided I’d pull a Kuntz myself. But…my hand isn’t as stead fast as old Kunty’s. I ended up tearing the bug in half forcing Julie to take a needle and rip up my skin to get to it. All women are about a situation away from becoming surgeons.

I felt like the militia must have during Revolution.

The reaction continued to get worse through the night. Because of the car situation we experienced on Friday, our work we would be a bit more complicated since we were down to one car. I woke up 2 hours earlier than usual on Monday morning. I was now COVERED in rashes. As I got out of the shower I realized there was another tick (perhaps a search party for the first one). Julie had to scrub up again before work. This time using a match to try and burn the bugger out. It hurt like a mother fuck! Even the militia didn’t have to deal with these conditions! Eventually she got it out.

Another hole, another band aid.

This morning I woke up at 5:00 am. The rash seems to have taken over my body. I assume it is now in charge. There are parts of me that look like Jeff Goldblum from the The Fly…other parts like Goldblum from ID4. Either way, I’m not happy. There were, however no ticks to report! I can only assume that the poison now coursing through my blood stream is keeping them at bay.

I feel dirty because of the ticks, though I have showered on average 1.5 times a day since Friday. I feel uncomfortable because of the itchy poison sumac rash, though I have on some cream to help combat some of the itch. I am overheated because I have to wear long sleeves to conceal the breakout & to keep the cream I’m wearing from getting all over everything! And I have 2 divots that have been removed from my body.

But I guess I should look on the bright side. I have a wife who hates ticks but was willing to cut into me to get them out. The cream is slowly starting to take away the itch. And the yard is done earlier than it ever has been.

And it could always be worse I suppose. My name could be Kuntz.

Journal or Ocular Manipulation

Keeping a journal has greatly cut into my blogging.  Maybe it wasn't a good idea in the first place.  The worst part is its not even an in depth account of the days events.  For instance:

Bosco @ CSP’s 1 Acts : Andrew (direct)  & Brian (act), saw BJ in Grotto’s parking lot Green Hornet  @ midnight


Translation:  My dear friend Anthony Bosco and I went to Chapel Street Players located in lovely Newark, DE this fine evening.  We took in some theater, such as an interesting piece directed by the powder keg known as Andrew John Mitchell and starring our mutual friend Brian Turner.  It was a well executed play and I thoroughly enjoyed it.  After which we partook in a dining experience at the local pizzeria, Grotto's.  I so enjoy their birch beer, and have become quite a fan of their pies as well.  We had a great time, solving the world's problems over some Italian American cuisine.  Afterwards we witness a young lady orally pleasuring a male acquaintance in his pickup truck.  Though we can't be certain that is exactly what was happening, she was at eye level then disappear for quite some time.  When the fellow in the drivers seat realized we were watching, he raised his hands to block out our vision.  Seeing as that's not the way the human ocular system works, we continues to keep visualization on said transaction.  We then traveled to take in a midnight viewing of The Green Hornet in two dimensions.  It was on this nice I learned that my dear friend Mr. Bosco's multiple dimensioning viewing is limited to only two.  Perhaps the gent in the pickup trunk was able to cast some voodoo visual vexation with his gyrating appendages.  Twas an interesting night on many levels.


Of course that info wouldn't have all fit on a 1' x 1' block that is my journal calendar.  Even in size 8 font.  I mean i'm sure it would if I shrank it down to a size 1 type font...but then who could possibly see that?


Sorry February.  I'll try harder in March.

Cover Your Cough

This poster hangs through out my office.  It was issued by the CDC, so odds are it hangs around yours as well.  I see it everyday because there is one posted above the copier/scanner.  Today was the first time I ever actually looked at it. 

It might make sense for this to hang in a children’s doctor’s office, or even a pre school.  But once a child learns to tie his shoes, he should have the process of disposing of boogers down.  Which is what makes it so odd that this poster hangs in the offices of many Fortune 500 companies through out the world.

The world?  Probably…

The CDC has produced this poster in English, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Vietnamese, Chinese, Hmong, Khmer, Tagalong, Arabic, Samoan (great girl scout cookies by the way), Burmese, Farsi, Kirundi & Somali.  This seems to indicate that either Germans know how to properly blow their noses with out CDC instruction, or they’ve completely done away with the need to sneeze all together.

I do find some of the images a bit disturbing.

Like this guy…

…what is he doing exactly? 

The poster would have us believe he is sneezing into his arm…but he’s not!  First off, his eyes are open.  It’s impossible to sneeze with your eyes open.  They’d pop out of your head and roll around on the floor.

I think it’s more likely he is pretending he has a VERY large mustache.  Maybe he’s at a Tom Selleck convention.  Or he’s trying to disguise himself as Tom Selleck to break into the house that Magnum PI bought.  He might have a plan to accost Selleck, shave off his mustache and ransom it to the highest bidder.  I’m thinking it would go for about $250 on the open market.  Not too shabby when you consider Tom could just grow another one.

Or maybe he’s smelling his armpit.  Sure it’s not to scale, but neither is his face!  Where are the ears buddy?  And what’s with the bald noggin? 

But the most probable thing happening here is the young man has discovered the deliciousness of cannibalism.  The elbow pit is a delicacy in France !

This fellow seems to be covering his mouth to disguise his voice. 

Perhaps he’s about to make a lewd phone call to Tom Selleck?  Maybe he’s in cahoots with the first guy.  They do look similar.  Brothers or even cousins?  Male pattern baldness runs in the family!  The aforementioned phone call is meant to distract Selleck while cannibal boy sneaks by security using is shrewd makeshift costume.

It’s possible this guy figured out a way to huff glue in intimate social gatherings.

But, I like to think he really is just sniffing underwear before buying a gift for his beloved for Valentine’s Day!  My grandmother always said, “If you can squeeze the melons in a supermarket, why not smell the drawers in a department store!”  She also believed German’s never sneezed, so let’s not just assume she’s crazy like ALL other old people…

This move is called “the fake out.” 

Note that at no time are his hands coming in contact with the soap OR the water!  He puts his hands to the sides of the water, but not actually in it.  Kind of lazy.  If you’ve gone that far why not just stick your hands under?  Unless it’s because they are auto faucets, but the paper towel dispenser’s not!  Smart!  One can’t leave any finger prints behind for the lead detective on the Selleck case to find.  This guy is pretty ingenious.

So the next time you do have to sneeze, do it into your fake mustache, use a pair of dirty underwear to wipe away any remaining fluids and finish up by mimicing hygiene. 

Or you can do what I do…

Think of Quigley Down Under.

“You’re with me leather…”

“You’re with me leather…”

So this weekend is the Super Bowl.  Yay.  I really don’t care.  I haven’t been a big fan of football since my team signed Michael Vick.  I watched some of the non Eagles post season, and was excited for about 1 quarter until The Bears gave the game away.  If you put a gun to my head, I’d probably root for Green Bay.  It would be kind of nice to see them do it with out Brett Favre’s shadow looming over them.  However, I would more than likely be rooting AGAINST Pittsburgh as opposed to rooting FOR the Packers.  Kind of hard to get behind a rapist when I have boycotted a team who’s employed a dog killer.

I used to watch the Super Bowl for the commercials.  But let’s face it, they suck!  And they have sucked for the past 5 years.  Are people really getting that excited to see Clydesdales?  Or a commercial that is about as clever as a Saturday Night Live sketch?  Truth be told, much like many marriages across this country, the internet has ruined the Super Bowl.  The commercial are online immediately after airing (some even before hand).  So if you’re not into the game or commercials what’s the point of watching? 

The halftime show.

Come on!  Really.  Nipple or not, has anyone ever REALLY cared about the halftime show?  I liked McCartney (except for that stupid “Freedom” song) & The Who last year was great.  But again, you can find footage online of ALL of these acts…and the footage is limitless, not the 15 minutes allotted by the network.  This year’s scheduled performers are the Black Eyed Peas.  I love them.  I saw them live in concert.  But I don’t care one way or the other about seeing their “content approved” half time show.

Then there’s the food.  I’m on a diet (what a whiney bitch I am).  Seriously though, I have been trying to not become a fatass, so sitting around watching a bunch of fatass offensive linemen while I stuff my face with chicken wings doesn’t sound very appealing to me…also, vegetarian. 

Watching with Dad.  This is pretty much the only reason I’d watch the game.  It was a tradition for SO long!  Watching with my Dad.  Making our bets (for a quarter, that later matured into a Sacagawea gold dollar) on such things as the coin toss, who scores first, who wins and how many heart attacks John Madden has per quarter.  The best is when 1 coin goes back and forth the whole evening.  But here’s the thing…my Dad won’t make it through the whole game if there are two teams he cares about.  I can only imagine what will happen this year when he has no real rooting interest.  He’s getting older and goes to bed at 8:30.  After all he has to be up by 5:00 am.  I never could figure out why.  Perhaps that’s when he counts his Sacagaweas.

But that is not my only dilemma regarding “leather.”

I have been scouring the local Goodwill’s lately, costuming a new web series, The Cheap Seats.  Which, ironically, is about diehard football fans who would cringe at the thought of missing the Super Bowl.  Last night, while at a Goodwill, I found a leather jacket that is BAD ASS!  I was so tempted to buy it.  The problem is…vegetarian.  How can I justify buying a leather jacket when I wouldn’t eat meat?  People love to point out my shoes, wallet & belt when they hear I don’t eat meat.  Well, the belt I already owned before I went veggie…I’m not going to throw it out as that seems to be more wasteful than keeping it.  I guess I could retire it to the back of the closet, but again…already have it.  What’s the point of that?  The wallet is made of recycled bicycle tires, so I’m covered there.  And finally the shoes…yeah…that’s a tough one.  It’s difficult to find shoes, specifically the soles, manufactured from man made materials.  So I am guilty there.  I have found some decent online vegan stores that will be providing my next set of footwear (belts as well), but for the time being I’ll continue to wear what I already own.

Which brings us to NEW purchases. 

I would NEVER buy a leather jacket from a store.  Because then I’d be directly supporting the industry.  But this jacket at Goodwill is second hand.  Like finding a ring on the street that happens to sport a blood diamond.  Do you ignore it out of principle or do you pick it up, hock it and use the money on copious amounts of strippers?  I guess it’s a moral choice there.  But the leather industry does not profit if I buy this jacket…or does it.

If I buy it…the next person, who might be in the market to buy a leather jacket, isn’t able to buy this slightly used jacket.  Instead he buys a brand new one off the shelf, continuing the “semi circle” of life (not really a circle to the cows now is it).  That’s what I am dealing with.  I really want that damn jacket…there is the SMALLEST possibility it’s Pleather (I didn’t look).  But I’m fairly certain it’s the real deal.  It’s only $20.  So I could buy it and donate $100 to PETA or “Best Friends” or another animal’s right organization.  But do I do that EVERYTIME I put it on a feel bad? 

So many questions. 

Also note that I didn’t specify WHICH Goodwill I am referring to.  Last things I need is one of you animals getting it and rubbing it in my face.

So here I am…contemplating.

What to watch & what to wear.

For the first time in my life, I am thinking about not watching the game of games.   I was planning to go bowling instead. I made plans totally forgetting the football event of the year was this Sunday.  It was my buddy Matt, though conceding this game is pretty much a snooze fest, pointed out he wouldn’t be available to bowl because the game is on.  I immediately thought, “Will the bowl alley even be open?”  I know places close for holidays…but do they for the Super Bowl?

Maybe I’ll start a new tradition and watch a movie instead.  The 2008 Phillies Championship on BluRay.  Now what to wear…

Groundhog Day

Number Eight.

This is eighth blog I’ve done of 2011. That’s 3 more than ALL of 2008 & tied with ALL of 2009.

Tomorrow is Groundhog Day and I am very excited. Not because I believe in the idea that a rodent seeing its shadow has any relevance towards future weather patterns. Not because it’s a great day when it’s socially acceptable to watch the Bill Murray classic over & over & over again. And not even because it puts us one step closer to pitchers & catchers reporting to Spring Training (Just 11 days!!!!)
But instead, because I came up with what I feel is quite a clever status update for Facebook/Twitter. I ran it by the wife last week. She agreed it was a good one. Or at least she didn’t tell me it wasn’t. All week I have thought about jumping the gun and putting it up early. But I felt that would be cheating.

So what’s the status update you ask? Well…check my Facebook or Twitter at midnight!

Great Moments in History #712 "“The first Great Awakening of using a gift card”

Great Moments in History #712 "“The first Great Awakening of using a gift card”

Not only did I turn the South on to popcorn shrimp in the 1770s, but I also kept them from naming the "Mason Dixon Line" the "Feel Free to Fuck Your Sister Delineation."


That's worth a bit more than $25!