UGH

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I’m sick. I am achy head, stuffy nose, congested chest sick. Usually I am the healthiest one around and never understood how people were so susceptible to these annoying little viruses. But not today. Today I have been kicked in the balls by a rhinovirus so hard, I am seeing stars and speaking in a high A. Just look at me yesterday afternoon driving to the hospital before school practicing my duck calls.

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Healthy and happy as a horse! Little did I know that by the night I would be fighting a fever and looking like this:

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Cheese and rice! I look like I just fell off the roof. Everything hurts and everything is loud. It just so happens that my neighbors upstairs have a combined weight of a 1989 Dodge Shadow so you can only imagine the creeks and groans and thuds happening right now. I swear, any minute a fat leg with a high heel is going to come crashing through the ceiling. If that happens, I’m keeping the shoe.

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What are you so happy about, fucker? You are about to get sick! Turn around! Ugh….I never listen to myself.

Bing, Bang, Boom

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It’s almost five o’clock on a Sunday night and I am knee-deep in work for a Monday morning meeting. While I want to write about funny thoughts on candy corn and zombie-retail-hilarity, I must persevere with what pays the bills. So wait right here.

Okay, I am done. Believe it or not that space between this paragraph and the one above took about three hours to cross. Doesn’t look that far, huh? Now where was I?

Oh yeah. I have had football on all day while I responded to emails and wrote budget plans, I have come to a conclusion: Keith Olbermann makes me want to hurt puppies. I fucking hate that guy. Why must something as glorious as the NFL be covered by such a smug, ugly, dick of a guy? All politics aside, his mean spirited humor and snide comments makes me seriously through around the “C” word as if I was saying “and” or “the”. Piss on him. Just his voice causes me to bend spoons with mind-hate.

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Whew! Had to get that one out and thanks for listening. The cat gave up and left hours ago. What I really wanted to write about is…I don’t know. Hold on, it’s coming to me.

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Went to a corn maze this weekend! Yeah, I am a sucker for those. It was a beautiful day and everything about Fall was present. They had cider, pumpkins, squash, Halloween decor and of course corn. Lots of corn. The only thing they were missing were the people.

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Stephen King really had something with his “spooky + corn = win” idea. Even though it was 4 in the afternoon and daylight, being alone in corn makes your senses really spin. You can hear the wind blowing above but to your left and right; nothing. Every so often your mind plays tricks and you hear conversations. Like I said I was alone in the maze that was 3 miles long. Talk about sensory deprivation!

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I finally made it through, even if I did cheat by cutting through the rows. It turns out that corn kind of itches! No longer do I have aspirations to be a corn farmer, making alien shapes in it at night. This stuff kind of sucks. And scary.

See? Corn belongs in a can or popped. Not ten feet tall or in the movies.

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In other news, I have been accepted to be a staff member over at the infamous “Review The World” website. I can not begin to tell you how excited I am about this because I have been a fan for many years. Brian does an amazing job keeping a positive, fun and informative review site and in this age of Internet abuse, that can be a real tough job. But, he has prevailed and it is a fun site to peruse if you have not already done so. I am a fan of the review videos and random road adventures. Remember folks, it’s the little things and they should be celebrated.

I’m In A Mood

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Most of my life I have been in a pretty good mood. I always try to see the bright side of life and even in times of strife, there is usually a tinge of happiness to be found. Call it optimism or call it stupidity, I call it a survival mechanism. But even us “glass half full of beer” people can have moments of “fuck my life”. (That’s my new exclamation. Like it?) Here are some resent MRAAHHH’s!

I love NPR. For those who don’t know what NPR is, it stands for News…ahem…National Public Radio and most liberal arts universities have a relay for it on their campus. I particularly enjoy the evening program, “All Things Considered” which along with news, they have stories on topics rarely discussed in the crap we call news on TV. You can be driving in the most desolate areas of the country but in mind, you are in a hospital far off in the Congo or a kitchen in south Bronx listening to a 15 year old girl who raises all her siblings in the midst of gang violence. This program allows us to understand what many choose not to.

But there is a segment that makes me want to jerk the wheel into a goddamn bridge abutment. It is when they allow authors and poets to read their own work. People who write shouldn’t be allowed to read their stuff, especially those who All Things Consider’s, well, consider. You wouldn’t want Stephen King narrating his stories, would you? He’s as close to a human beaver as it comes.

A particular poet/reader had me fidgeting like a day three meth-trip. She spoke so softly I had the radio volume turned all the way up as she over enunciates every single word. I could only liken this to a woman trying to teach a deaf person to read lips by repeating “EGG! MC! MUF FFFF FFF IN!” This made my patients dip so low I took a huge swig of my boiling coffee, completely forgetting I just bought it and still, as I type, I taste only cardboard. Oh! I forgot, you could hear her nose whistle come through loud and clear. Fuck my life!

I know this is petty but still, given the choice between listen to a smug poet read her work from the next room of a recording booth or having a fat guy eat an apple out of anger over a megaphone in a small bathroom, I would choose the latter.

Text messaging is a great invention. Those of you who read this and actually know me in “real life” know that I abuse texting. To me, it is to the point and it leaves out opportunities to be stuck in a conversation about how someone’s dog ate blueberries from the kitchen table and shit a Jackson Pollock on the living room carpet. But there also is a time and place.

Recently I went out to dinner with a friend. She’s a good person but she is also one of those people who have little regard for other people. I guess everything has come easy to her and it doesn’t occur to her that there are other people on the planet. I tolerate her.

Well, about halfway through dinner she gets into a texting battle that lasts the rest of the meal. My phone went off at least six times but I would never think of that disruption at dinner. She just didn’t get that when two people are at dinner and one is on the phone, that makes the other feel bad. And look bad. By the time she was done I had drunk two shots, had three beers and spelled “suck my ass” in peas upside down on my plate of Pad Tai. Like I said, she can’t help being who she is. That’s why I tolerate her.

Nonverbal facial gestures with eyebrows from someone I don’t know makes me want to reply with nonverbal hand gestures with my middle fingers. I was next in line at the bagel shop and when it was my turn the tattooed, pierced, blue haired dude gave me an eyebrow gesture as if to say, “You are next retard”. I didn’t thank him after the transaction. Showed him. Wait a minute…he didn’t thank me!

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Got my car totally fixed! But in the waiting room I had to watch “The View” on their TV. Don’t even get me started and don’t get me wrong, I am all about women and 100% equality but this show actually removed very important brain cells. When the mechanic was finished he asked for a form of payment and I responded, “Yes. Have some.”

If this makes some people angry, I am sorry. I just lied to you. I’m not and I don’t care. Whoopie needed to stay in the 1980’s. I am still disappointed in Ted Danson because that’s gross, man. That officially killed Cheers.

It just hit me that I am a 31 year old guy, living by myself with a cat in Idaho. I am Jon Arbuckle. Fuck my life.

*Back on track with the Fall theme tomorrow folks! I’ll be in a better mood by then. ;)*

Target Gets A Pass

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So, I was a little harsh on Target for their noticably “tarty to the party” Halloween display but they actually came through quite well. I managed to check all the reviewable items off the list and above all, I did so in a chicken suit. I am not lying.

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To be honest, the suit was not made for a 6 foot fellow but rather a 5’10” one so I could not completely lift my head or see passed the beak. But that has never stopped me before. I am not sure on the legs though.

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And wouldn’t you know it? I just got a kitten and now we can have matching costumes this year! Wait a minute. I think I just made a statement about the cat and I having matching costumes. What the hell is wrong with me? I need to get out more.

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Yeah, I didn’t think she would have gone for it anyway.