big storm coming. I went to the HEB and it was a fucking madhouse.
There was no bread, meat, or tortillas.
And the beer and soda supply were dwindling.
I guess we are going to get our share of the hurricane at about 5:00 AM.
People are acting like I should be a whole lot more scared...which scares me a little.
Wish us luck.
I tried to take pictures of "The Stone", but he was elusive, and camera shy,
and they all came out blurry.
My wife said they were blurry because it is too small.
Hmpf...Sorry, It was the best I could muster.
And, considering the path it took (of greatest resistance) it is a boulder.
But, I digress.
It is New Bag Day!! Super!
I think it was Win-Dog Churchill who said
"Nothing is so exhilarating as to be shot at with no result"
Well, I submit that the Winster never drove across 2 counties in Texas with a car full of weed, WITH a bad registration sticker. What a rush! What a dumb thing to do!!
I could have waited until tomorrow, when the car will actually be LEGAL, although, I was out of weed, man.
I don't like being out. I am selfish that way. Among many.
I was a highlight from one of those real life cop shows waiting to happen. I broke the cardinal rule ( You gotta be smart when you are doing stupid shit) but, my guy can't afford gas prices anymore... so when he called me to say he was ready to see me, I jumped at the chance, throwing caution to the wind. Although, it wasn't really that dramatic...I just got in the car, and drove to his house.
It was the dumbest thing I have done, since the stun-gun fiasco--(they DO really work!)
Good thing the farm roads are never patrolled.
Very rarely. Hardly ever.Very seldom.
So, first thing in the morning, I am going to have the car inspected.
And then my wife and I are actually going to leave the house...we are going to dinner at our friend's house. Other than the car stuff, it should be a nice day.
Halle-fucking-lujah!
I "passed" my kidney stone. "Passed" can mean a lot of different things. In this case, it meant a series of agonizing urinations, culminating in a painful finale.
By that same token, "Stone" also has many meanings. In this case, it is more like an arrowhead.
Or a thorny, sharpened Conch shell, with little razors all over it, carrying scissors.
Now, we are going to go backstage, and interview "The Stone":
Q: So, that was some tour, huh?
A: Yeah. Whew. I thought I had gotten lost in there, man. I was just hangin' out, getting ready to
attach myself to something, forever, ya know?
Q: It felt like you were burning something in there. What was that?
A: Oh, sorry, Bro, It was pretty dark, and I had to light my Zippo a few times, so I could see.
Q: What did you need to see?
A: Well, I carved my name a few times, and wanted to make sure it looked OK.
Q: So that is where the blood came from.
A: Yep. Well, mostly. I had a few stapling projects to do in there.
Q: Ok, well, that hurt.
A: ... (lights cigar)
Q: No, I mean it REALLY hurt.
A: You know, you are starting to sound like a little bitch (making crying noises) Wah wah wah..it hurt..it hurt. Get over it, already.
Q: I am beginning to see why you have such a bad reputation.
A: Hey, that's just how I roll, son.
Q: Can we expect any future tours?
A: Well, not from me. I am out of the business. But I do have a few brothers, and some cousins who might step up, at some point.
Q: Why do you do it? I mean, what is the purpose?
A: Haters gotta hate, lovers gotta love, you know what I'm sayin'?
Q: No.
A: Whatever. Fuck you, man.
Q: You are quite hostile
A: Aw, man, this interview is over. No more questions.
And, with that, he ran across the street, turned around and gave me the finger, and then was gone.
Good news from the urinary tract!!
My pee looks like pee again!
I am aware that this probably isn't "blog-worthy" for most (normal) people.
But, after a day of pissing blood, this is not only blog-worthy, but it is cause for celebration.
I should point out that all 3 of the meds that I was prescribed cause dizziness, or drowsiness,
so I am not really "of sound mind".
In fact, I am feeling pretty out of it.
What was I just talking about?
I woke up this AM with a pain in my side, it felt like a cramp.
After I had been awake for about 20 minutes, it was hurting more, and more.
Then, the pain sort of spiked, and I puked (it was awesome---just like at the ' Maiden show, bro!)
And THEN, I peed...and it looked like red wine, which would be OK, if I was our Lord and Savior, which I am not (or AM I?)
So, yeah, bloody pee, pain in my side, I must be dying.
We went to the hospital (it was FUN) and we were the only people in the Emergency Room (the "ER")
in spite of all the cars in the "PL" .
I hadn't even finished filling in the paperwork, and they were calling me into the Triage Unit. (the TU)
I had blood drawn, and then was given a shot of some painkiller, and an anti-nausea agent.
They did a CT Scan, and was told I have a kidney stone (jealous?)
Anyhow, I am about to go fetch my prescriptions, (vicodin, reglan {anti-nausea drug}, and fucking Flomax!!--the prostate shrinker upper--it supposedly helps with stones)
All in all, I would give the day 2 middle fingers, way up!!
Actually though, for a hospital, it was not bad. I was in and out in less than 2 hours,
and didn't see anyone else's bodily fluids.
So, I am about to experience the miracle of childbirth, sort of.
This is totally going to suck.
Well, thank the World's one God that the Olympic Games are over.
That was the best Olympic Games in 4 years. It will probably be at least another 4 years before
any new Olympic athletes captivate America with their smiles, and stories.
How heartwarming they all are!
It is the same shit....every time.
"Athlete 'A' was just an alternate...he hadn't made the team,
but someone broke a coccyx, and he got his chance...blah blah blah"
Or even worse: " This guy has come to the Olympics to break every record, blah blah blah"
And until then, Michael "Phuckin'" Phelps' goofball mug is going to be selling everything.
He is a swimmer, man.
A swimmer.
I could understand if Swimming was a more popular spectator sport in America...
Shit, even Bowling used to be on prime time television. NASCAR is huge...
Swimming?
It seems to me as though the Olympics is the only forum (Baywatch re-runs notwithstanding) that swimmers have anymore.
And, OK, admittedly, to show up, claiming to be the Man,
and then proving that you ARE the Man, is cool... and maybe I will buy Gatorade Ocean Flavored Sweatdrink, or Powerbars, with added beefy Protein-surge technology because the Phelps told me to.
I might even get my auto parts at Pepboys, at the Phelps' behest, instead of Autozone, who was only willing to pay a sub-par swimmer to be their spokesman.
But, personally, as a guy (who is very comfy with his raging heterosexuality) I would have rather painted my balls, and swum (swimmed? swam? swammed?) naked before I wore that girly suit.
I'm just sayin'
So,
I had a birthday a few days ago. It was nice.
38.
I am now officially too old to be signed to a long-term sports contract.
I would maybe get a 3 year deal, max.
I could really rant here about our new goddamn medical insurance billing issues,
but I don't want to open that can of horrid beans again.
Yes, I do.
We signed up with a new insurance plan, on June 28th. We paid them (well, they took their money) on July 7th. Then, they took more money on July 30th.
And then they took more money today.
So, I call them, to find out WTF... Why have I paid $935.83 for something that is supposed to cost $311 a month, and I only signed up a month and a half ago...
and get it all broken down for me, as I am an imbecile, evidently.
The money that they took today, covers us until September 19. (OK)
The money that they took on the 30th of July was to cover July 18 until August 18 (OK, yes,)
The money that they took on July 7th, covered us between June 18, and July 18 (No---wait)
I said "Why do I have to pay for that time, I wasn't a member yet--I don't think that is right"
So, then, the tables turned, as I tried to 'splain to her that I signed up on the 28th of June, and surely shouldn't have to pay for the period before I was insured...and how can they charge people for retroactive health-care??
I could FEEL her blank stare through the phone.
In fact, I wrote a haiku about it:
Stupid fucking bitch
Hoping I will stop yelling
Not saying a word
Or this one:
I felt cheated and
Continue to feel cheated
By Assurant Health
I was SO inspired, that I even wrote a limerick:
There once was a man from Nantucket
My fucking medical insurance company sucks
I yelled on the phone, and didn't feel better
I am not good at writing limericks.
Yes, I know that wasn't very good, but, limericks aren't really very good to begin with.
So,
I got all that nightmarish dental work done. It sucked.
It actually wasn't all that much work, a root canal, and 2 extractions... but it was enough.
We have been busy...billing motherf- erm... clients like mad.
It is too hot to do anything else.
"Outside" is a word that gets you a funny look here, this time of year. As in : "you want me to go outside?"
Blah blah blah Brett Favre ...
Welly...
After all kinds of hurricane hype, all we got here was a few nice rain showers.
So, with the rain, of course came a sweltering humidity ( you know, it's not the heat, it's the stupidity er humidity)
so it actually feels hotter, in spite of our temp being only 82 ( that HAS to be wrong---it feels WAY hotter)
and it smells real "gulfy"... hot n gulfy.
I went to my HEB (that is the grocery store chain down here) today, and (thought) I heard some distant cheering, every few minutes, which I chalked up to a new tinnitis, and kept on shoppin'
but as I got closer, and closer to the checkout area , the festival sounds kept on getting louder, and clearer.
Cheering, combined with occasional airgun spurts....
I saw a HEB employee, and said "wtf?"
and she said "omg they R havin6 a cont3st to C who is the fast3st bagger -n- stuff" in Teenese, rolling her eyes at the distasteful interaction with me.
When I got to the checkout line, there were about 50-100 people (no joke) watching, and taking pictures...
and there was Spike, the mascot for the Round Rock Express --our local semi-pro baseball team (he is a dawg, dressed in train {engineer's} clothes... he was there too...what a thrill.
This picture is Spike at the opening of our library. Although it is quite appropriate for this post.
It might have been the lamest human gathering in history...and they were ALL into it...cheering,
one "contestant" was DRIPPING sweat, from running around and shit.
I went through the self check out line, and bagged my own shit to avoid all the nonsense ---and after I got home, realized that I had stolen my bananas (i am not to be trusted)
I am totally not into working today. Not one bit. At all.
Today can't end soon enough.
Tomorrow I get those teef pulled at Noon, Texas time. This town ain't big enough for the 3 of us.
I am getting knocked out, because I am a wuss...but it isn't the pain I am afraid of, I have been through the pain part...it is the sound I am afraid of.
I would never be able to stop hearing it, so, no.
I want to be able to eat crunchy stuff without remembering and reliving blah blah blah...
The visit with the In-laws was actually quite nice. Mother-in-law was charming & polite, and her husband is always OK. He is only about a year and a half older than me, so, we get along just fine. For those keeping score, I am 37, (38 next month) R. is 30, her mom is 53, and her mom's husband is 39.
My dear wife turned 30 on July 11 (just a puppy)...that is why the In-laws were here...we shopped and ate.
In-laws went crazy buying everything that we saw. And we saw a lot. They spent well over $4,000 on us. It was really awkward. But really nice.
So, yeah, getting teeth pulled. Shit. The next few days with that bloody cotton taste in my mouth, milkshakes, pudding, all full of painkillers...deja vu.
One thing is kind of funny (to me) on my surgery instructions list, it actually tells me to wear "loose fitting clothes"...What my pants have to do with my teeth, I will never know, but I am thinking that some web-site is about to get a taste of Peter (I am the one with tattoos, and the big beard...watch for me!)
This is a boring post...here...go read something funny. Clicky
Well...
One of the teeth I am having removed in a few days has organized a rebellion. I woke up a last week, with that unmistakable (if you have ever experienced it before) "Oh, shit, my tooth is infected" feeling. For the uninitiated, it feels like a balloon, slowly filling up in your face, combined with agony, and new, and improved pain.
So, I phoned my dentist, and told him what was up, and I asked him to call in a prescription for antibiotics...but when I went and picked up my pills, he had called in a prescription for painkillers.
The next morning I phoned him again, to ask for antibiotics, maybe, this time....only to be told that he had gone on vacation.
So, being the enterprising youngish man, I phoned my other dental buddy, the guy who is going to be pulling the teeth, and 'splained to him what was up.
He called in antibiotics, and that is that...right?
Well, no, not exactly.
5 days later, I am still all swollen, out of pain meds, not very happy.
I phone Oral Surgeon guy again, and tell them I am concerned...they tell me that because they knew I was uninsured, that they had called in the (bullshit, ineffective "poor people meds") cheapest antibiotics.
I said " Hey, Baby, the sky's the limit" so he called in some "rich people" antibiotics, and some more painkillers.
I am now on a first name basis with the pharmacist. No joke. I walked up to the counter,
and she said "Hi, Peter, still all swollen?"
I turned my head a little, and she saw, and said "Yes you are."
So, that is what is going on here...a pharmaceutical haze... mixed with moments of PAIN.
Did I mention that my In-laws are coming to visit? In 2 days?
The last time I saw my Mother-in-law, it was not good.
Really not good.
It was really bad.
If I wasn't so doped up, and out of it, I would be really nervous about it.
And, yes, the Eagle has landed.
Doctor came by at about 5, i can't believe it is already 12:30.
Time flies when you are super-stoned--or maybe it crawls, and you just don't care.
Anyhoo... the new stuff is very nice, fluffy, buddy. It smokes nice and smooth.
I am quite pleased.
Amazing how having a copious amounts can improve a fellow's demeanor.
So I smoked a bunch, and played poker, and "talked" to my buddy in NY on myspace.
All in all, a great night.
Now, I am going to get in bed with my wife, and fall asleep to Sportscenter.
Hope you have a night as nice as this one was for me soon.
Today started out like a typical day at the end of the month...with us frantically billing as much as we can, so that we can continue our lavish lifestyle (we are having hot dogs tonight...tres posh)
But then, as I was basking in the afterglow of lunch, my "doctor" called me, and said he would be out this way today. So, that means it is New Bag Day. Or it will be.
That means that I have to go over to the "shady" store, to get some papers (the last time I was there, some Vato was arguing with the guy behind the counter, saying that when he cashed his check, he had shorted him $100. It got ugly quick (front door was shattered, cops were on the way) and so I was happy to get the fuck out of there, and wish I didn't have to go back, but I am partial to "Zig-Zag King Sized" papers, and they are the only game in town, that I know of.
So, this evening should be an orgy of giant spliffs.
I love that!
So, for the last 2 or 3 days, I have had an occasional pain in my side, in the appendix area.
I was doing what I always do when my body hurts, I ignore it, and hope it goes away, or fixes itself.
I do know that I am not mature enough to handle appendectomy, or appendicitis, particularly my OWN.
Well, today I mentioned it to R. just to let her know...in case she finds me screaming, curled up in fetal position...
I don't really think it is anything serious, probably.
And (here is the weird part) then I get an e-mail from my sister, who lives about 1500 miles away, and she says:
I keep getting this weird, sharp pain in my lower gut, on the right. I hope that’s not where one’s appendix is. Maybe I ate a metallic peanut.
Fucking weird.
I figure that between Tim Russert, and George Carlin, America's collective IQ just dropped a bunch.
Drag
This is an excerpt of an e-mail, and the response, that cracked me up:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
...good to get out of the house,
and talk to someone who is not a cashier.
I have several cashier buddies in town. One is this kid (prolly 23 years old or so)
who has sold me rolling papers, and scoped my tattoos a bazillion times.
I can tell he wants to be 'bros"...he has that ratty ponytail, and bad mustache of a Metallica fan. He only ever nods at me...never says a word...just tilts his head.
" sup, bro," he is saying.
His e-mail is prolly metaldude4life@dickweed.com
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And the response:
I have some cashier buds, too; the ones who like me tend to be the prim, proper-looking women, who give me an almost vigorous nod of approval, sort of a “You look clean…and as though you have no secret tattoos” kind of thing. Their emails are probably things like Judy61@aol.com I give them the fake plastic smile of the suburbanite, thinking, “Man, if you knew what a pothead I am"… as I bask in the faux glow of their beige approval. ... I try to go against peoples’ expectations of my bland exterior.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------In an excellent mood...
first of all, it is friday, and that means no fuckin' clients for 2 days.
Also,I found my oldest, and best friend from the first time I lived in Texas on myspace, and he lives right in Austin, with his wife, and 2 kids (I met the oldest when he was a newborn--he is now 15, so it has been a while)
We lost contact with eachother when I moved from Phoenix, to Florida, to Buffalo in one year.
We talked for a long time last night on the phone. He also doesn't drink anymore, but still smokes lots of dope (he was trying to tempt me to drive to his house with some "mean skunky bud"--but I didn't feel like driving) They are going camping this weekend, so when he gets back, we are going to get together, smoke a ton of weed, and tell lies.
His band is playing in a few weeks, (garagey-sludgey-sort of punk---or something) and R. and I will be going.
So, yeah, that is nice.
My asshole neighbor left this morning, and left his dog outside, with no water. The dish wasn't even outside. So I gave her water, and a leftover Arby's beef and cheddar (and then later a dog biscuit, and some chicken) I know that she would be fine if I didn't give her food. I just like to, she likes it ,too. But, this is June in Texas, man. Shit needs water.
We are SO taking her with us when we move. I don't even give a fuck anymore. I will knock on the door, and beat his ass to take her if I have to. I am not letting this asshole kill that dog.
I am going to smoke.
Have a nice weekend.
OK,
I have a dentist appointment on Monday...a root canal that I had a few years ago basically came out. It didn't break, it was just suddenly NOT attached.
So, that sucks, but I do need to see what other teefs need to come out...which REALLY sucks.
We are still in house-limbo...waiting for the bank to release the house from foreclosure, so we can buy it.
Just a whole lot of waiting, therefore, a WHOLE lot of smoking.
Sorry, and you came all this way.
Here, go waste some time here...
once you get past the bad handwriting, it is pretty damn funny
Well, it seems that the house that we want to buy might be in foreclosure.
Evidently, the owner thought he could get it sold quickly enough that he didn't have to make any more payments on it.
Jackass.
So, as of 5:00 PM, we are withdrawing our offer. We will probably turn right around, and make another offer, for about 5 or 10K less.
We made the offer last fucking week. He only got back to us today because we told him that we were pulling our offer at 5:00.
We had decided that we were not going to be "on hold" any longer...and today, well...we ARE going to be on hold, way longer. So, yet ANOTHER week will end with us having no idea when, or even IF we will be getting that house.
My "little experiment" in the backyard has (already) started budding. I didn't think it would even last THIS long, much less mature & produce, but starting to bud in first week of June??
God, I love Texas.
Except for the dodgy real estate agents.
So...check THIS shit out...
We have been trying to wean clients away from paying with PayPal, due to their crazy fees, and shit service. So we go with Quickbooks, and are pleased to announce to our clients that we are now able to process credit cards. We invoice last month...no problem.
This month comes around...we invoice...start receiving payments...no problem.
But just now ,we get a call telling us we must refund one of our clients, because his invoice came to $1800, and we are only "eligible" to receive payments of UP to $1500. She says "if there is a chargeback, or returned good, we have to be able to cover it, and that is the limit they have set on us, based on R's credit rating"...
What the motherFUCK??!!!
So...by making more than $1500 "at once", you are ineligible to get paid, unless you are making (lots) more.
In other (FUCKING IDIOTIC) words...we do not make enough to make more.
And they have access to our records...they can SEE he is one of several, so they can SEE that we make more than enough to cover any chargebacks.
This is yet another time where I feel like "the man" is holdin' a brotha' down.
It is a good thing the eagle has landed.
I see a J the size of a baby's arm in my future...
< / -angry rant- >
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