I’m not dead…

I haven’t posted anything in a while. I was going to write a very crotchety, smart-ass, Andy Rooney styled screed against the Olympics, and how boring and pointless they are. However, K-Bell forced me to watch NBC’s coverage a couple of nights, and maybe I’m just getting old, but I found some of it fairly entertaining. The gymnastics was especially impressive. The track events were fun to watch as well.

Did I just write that? What the hell is wrong with me?

Ah, well. I still think certain aspects of the Olympics are mega-dumb (for instance, how come all these different countries can come together and peacefully decide on the rules of games and compete with each other at them, but they can’t work peacefully to, you know, NOT BLOW EACH OTHER UP WITH BOMBS?), but I would feel hypocritical writing a scathing Olympic piece after watching them. So I’m not going to.

My writing was also interrupted this week by a trip to the hospital. I was diagnosed on Tuesday with melanoma (a form of skin cancer for everyone who, like me, was dumb and didn’t know what that is), told I needed surgery on Wednesday, and spent Thursday getting carved up like a T-Giv’s day bird, and then spent the weekend laying in bed in a drug-induced stupor.

That last part was pretty awesome.

So then I was going to blog about that. But I’m not going to. At least not yet. It’s not that I am shy about it…the problem is that it is long and only kind of funny. Maybe another time. But for now, its enough to say that the whole experience has taught me to appreciate life to the fullest, love every precious human like they were your own child, wake up with a smile, and really develop a personal, intimate relationship with Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior.

…

BLAH HA HA HA HA HA! Just kidding about that last part, obviously. It’s business as usual for me from this point forward: bangin’ bitches, drinkin’ beers, and chewin’ gum. And I’m all out of beer and gum. This experience HAS, however, given me a scar on my shoulder that looks like it came off of Frankenstein’s monster, and the knowledge that Vicodin + alcohol = a great nights sleep.

I start work back up on Thursday. Hopefully in the next few days I’ll have something interesting to blog about again. In the meantime, as always, let me plug my girlfriend’s blog, The Pilver. It is one of the hottest blogs on WordPress right now (for serious!) and she is much more prolific than I am. Also, here is one of those adorable LOL Cats pictures for you to look at:

Isn’t that adorable? It’s like he’s saying what cats are thinking, in comically misspelled computer speak!

You love it.

Poor Little Timmy…

Hungry and grumpy on a pot hot season’s day,
Little Timmy is broke and can’t go out to play.
His jobs on hiatus, schools out for the summer.
With no paycheck to cash, his balance reads, “Bummer.”

“How can I be this broke?,” he asks with heart heavy.
“I’ve got toys, books and games and a 2000 Chevy.”
And twas true, Timmy’s things went to the horizon.
He owned laptops, CDs, and a phone by Verizon.

He owned cameras and movies and desks made of oak
He owned t-shirts and watches and a Gucci-brand cloak
He owned iPods and ePeds and you-ah-Kazoos
But with no cash to his name, he’s singing the blues!

“A new job is the answer!” Tim shouted with glee,
And set off on a hunt with his college degree.
“I’ll be a waiter or cowboy or maker of mitts.
Or the guy who puts make-up on Pam Anderson’s tits.”

But the search proved much tougher than Timmy would think.
The business world’s heartless, they would not even blink.
“Your degree is in what again?” they’d ask with a snear.
“English? How cute,” as they tossed him out on his rear.

“I need some cash now!” said Timmy getting desperate.
But with no job and no skills, how could he get it?
What if I sell something? Timmy thought with a kick.
Maybe books, or CDs, or this bust of Tom Selleck?

“Or maybe…” gasped Timmy, his thoughts getting wild,
“I’m thinking too small, these ideas are all mild.
I’ll give up a kidney, sell crack to a poor soul,
Use my back as a billboard, pimp out my virgin butt-hole.”

With a start, Timmy heard these words he was saying
“I’m being quite silly, I just need to be waiting.
I know things will get better, as things always do
But for now I must struggle, and realize its true:”

“Being broke fucking sucks giant ass.”