Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Another Instant Classic

Yet another classic from the Liam Show

Thanks to Titus Jones for bringing us this sweet ass mashup…check out his other stuff. It ROCKS

Monday, November 19, 2007

Say What?

Gotta love the conversations I have with Wife some times….
Her: I mean, I may not have this job in 10 years but I’d like to be married with a family in 10 years
Me: Great…who are you going to marry?
(pause….)
Her: You’re an Asshole

Friday, November 16, 2007

Christmas in the air

So over the past few weeks Wife and I have been contemplating what to get the family for Christmas…

Since I believe one of my brothers reads this page I can’t go into details but man o man did we find the best kick ass presents this year. It’s so kick ass that I know all of you want to know what it is, but too bad…you’re just going to have to wait until after Christmas…

If you don’t like it…too bad…whale biologist!

Thursday, November 15, 2007

And the Sky Parts

I know I’m once again late with another installment, but I swear I have good reason.
The past few weeks have really been troublesome at work and as such life has pretty much sucked donkey balls. So much so that over two weeks ago I developed a pain in my lower, lower back if you catch my drift. Well I pretty much thought it was another sign of my age, my health, my weight and of course the stress that work has been piling on top. So I do what every other red blooded American male would do…deny deny deny… That was until I could no longer deny that I had a problem. It got to the point last Thursday that I couldn’t stand, I couldn’t sit, I couldn’t lie, I couldn’t move period. I remember I got out of the shower (of which I had been attempting to sooth my issue by soaking abnormally long in the hot water in an attempt to quiet the pain) to find that any sort of movement resulted in such a wave of nausea that I thought I was going to die. That was it…apparently this thing attached to my backside had developed an intelligence and was aware that I was 1: on my way to my horrid black hole of a job and that 2: I was attempting to kill it by drowning and that it would have no such attempts on its life made without putting up a fight. All I knew was that I wanted it dead at all costs and that it was now either him or I and I really have an attachment to breathing, so it had to be him.
After I stumbled out of the bathroom, blinded by the pain I curled into the fetal position on the bed for a few moments until I could regain my composure and make it down stairs to tell Wife that ego aside, it was time to have another man look at my ass. I think that this is where Wife realized just how much pain I was in, because there’s no way in HELL that I would willingly ask for a doctors appointment be made, especially one at the last moment and absolutely no way for it to be an ass doctor and yet there I was asking for those very things…Hell had frozen over….
Fast forward to that afternoon and there I am sitting nervously in the exam room of a scary little clinic in Salt Lake, all the while replaying how I had gotten to this point over and over in my head and just why in the hell was I in this dirty little clinic…it after all was not the spacious comfortable doctors office I had been expecting. Fast forward another hour and the doctor finally arrives, asks the usual questions and then we’re to the point I had been dreading…the male “poke and stare” Now I have never, let me say that again…I have NEVER had another man, no, no, another human being ever look at that region let along poke and prod it. Come to think of it I’m sure that my new little friend had counted on this and was assured that its existence would continue until the end of time. That was until the doctor sat down behind me and spread things apart while I lie in the fetal position on his examining table wondering if he’d at least call me in the morning. I wonder if the doctor saw my little friend recoil in horror at his nonchalant demeanor while looking at my ass, because I know it knew this man was there to kill it and that it wasn’t going to go quietly. But this is where things took on a sort of Salvador Dali-esque hugh and time itself melted before my eyes. It seems that no I didn’t have a typical red blooded American male hemorrhoid…no, no, I had the next best thing, a red blooded American Abscess, conveniently located next to my ass…it was understandable how I could confuse the two…silly me. After some thought it became apparent that I had concentrated all of my hate and all of my rage for my life sucking black hole of a job and caused it to manifest as a giant infected soar on my ass…lovely…
So after getting dressed the doctor explained what this new little addition of mine really was and that we needed to drain it as soon as possible the next day and that it would require surgery to do so. Just want I had wanted to hear. It couldn’t be as simple as a topical cream, a prescription or any other simple remedies…no this little bastard was going to fight me tooth and nail to both our demise. So off we went, wondering just what in the hell the next day would bring and just what in the hell had we done to piss of the God’s so much that we had been sooo blessed.
Friday morning dawned bright and beautiful for some people…not us though…we still had the Armageddon of abscess removal looming that afternoon. We finally made our way to the hospital for yet another poke and stare (this time thankfully in that comfy and private little doctors office). As I once again lie on the examining table, peaking through the blinds dreaming that I really was anywhere else I realized that there was this searing pain coming from the region of my ass. Had the doctor really just jammed that giant ass Q-tip into the middle of my new little friend and began to poke and prod away without giving me any warning? Why yes, yes he did…it seems that he too knew that a surprise attack on this little abomination was the best tactic, after all if I didn’t see it coming neither would it right? So after what seemed to be a lifetime he removed his now bloody and puss soaked Q-tip and informed us that they would get me added to the surgical rotation for the afternoon and that I could once again get dressed. The good news however was that he would be able to fix my problem and that we had an 80% chance of it never coming back…80%? Common doc, that’s a pretty weak odd, you’re going to cut me open, scoop out all the infected tissue and leave open to heal from the inside out and 80% is all you can give me? Either way we decide to move forward and to have it out with my little ass pirate once and for all. After the doctor leaves for me to get dressed all I can think of is, “at least it’s better than work” That’s right…fighting this little bastard was better than work on good day.
So we move along on what seems to be fast forward for the rest of the afternoon…Hospital administration, pre-op, ambulatory care, and in no time the nurse is telling me that I need to get into my gown because the orderly is coming to take me to the operating room. What’s funny is that even though I was going in for a fairly minor issue I couldn’t help being nervous. You always here the stories about people who have friends of friends who went in for the minor something and never came out…so as Wife and I parted ways as the orderly made a right turn towards the operating room and directed her left into the waiting room I couldn’t help but fight that little urge to panic that I might not ever see her again. Stupid yes, but true still the same…
After being asked by no less than 6 different people who I was, what was my birth day and why was I there I was finally wheeled into action. It’s funny that the last thoughts in my head as I stared up through the oxygen mask on my face were of my family, but the first in recovery were of what time it was on the clock at the foot of my bed…weird. So I had made it through and I was faintly aware of bustling nurses here and there checking on things as I fought to stay awake…the next memory I have is being wheeled back into my room where Wife was waiting with a nervous smile. As we waited for the deepest effects of the drugs to wear of so I could do more than smile and drool as I drifted in and out of consciousness I remember Wife asking me about Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Freebird that was playing on a tv commercial and I swear that I raised my arm and exclaimed “Wooooooooo FREEBIRD” only to find out latter that this must have been the drugs because apparently I did no such thing…either way that’s the way I’m telling the story from now on. So after about an hour we were given the ok to get dressed and head home, thank God, it was over and we had won the first battle.
After a few days of recovery and a few pounds of gauze things are starting to feel better and life is moving forward. The best is that after all of this, the sky has actually parted and there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It seems that my life sucking, black hole of job has netted me a few jobs for the new business and is going to serve as quite a lucrative client…funny how things seem to work out in the end…no pun intended, I swear…

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

I can’t believe this exists

All I can say is: Who in their right mind believes stuff like this really works?

It reminds me of that “Dead Like Me” where George pisses off forces that you really shouldn’t piss off and hundreds of fat people die from wearing a device that looks extremely similar…

Thanks to the folks at SlenderTone for a great laugh

Sorry

I know I don’t have too many readers out there, but to those that I do have, I apologize for the delay in posting something new. I’ve just been so focused on getting some new products out into the market through the wood working business that I’ve neglected this site.

For what it’s worth, we should have a basic new website of the new business up and running shortly.

Either way I should get back up and running here shortly and will try much harder to not be so neglectful in the future.