You aren't REALLY sick until your day runs as followed:
Early AM: Wake up FREEZING even though your thermostat is cranked at a balmy 62. You have to rub various parts of your body just to warm up enough to get up and jack things up to sub-tropical levels. You know the feeling, where you're just cold enough to move under the quilt but you don't have the balls to make a break for the thermostat. Your nose is filled with cement so brutal that you can't even smell the yeast cooking in a hooker's vagina.
And that cough wakes up just a few minutes after you do and goes right to work.
You make a break for the thermostat after rubbing yourself down enough to go for it.
Sunrise: You realize your sense of taste has gone along with your sense of smell. Even a sneeze won't break up the amount of hardened molasses in your nose. You can't take a deep breath because of this fucking cough. You sweated through your sheets so now they are damp and ice cold. And even though you slept for a good 4 hours after the thermostat incident, you're still wiped. You guzzle some OJ (vitamins) and go back to sleep.
Late AM: You're awake and feel mildly refreshed. You bum around the house, on the computer, check your various sites, refreshing a view of them over and over (but comforted by the fact that someone is doing the same), in front of the TV. 90 minutes go by and you can't keep your eyes open snymore. Lights out on the couch.
Early afternoon: Back awake. Repeat above.
Late afternoon: Wake up AGAIN. Eat something for the strength. Rationalize that there is wheat and barley in beer... things that come from NATURE is in there. It's got to be healthy, right? Drink a six-pack.
Early evening: Lights out, but it's only a nap. Nose is starting to eject some of that gorilla crap that was lodged in there.
Evening: FINALLY, you have the strength to masturbate.
Late evening: Do laundry as you sweated through a good hunk of your wardrobe. Wonder why you're sweating. Remember that you almost spent the last 24 hours with your house hotter than your exe's ass after you mixed cayenne pepper with her astroglide. ("Nah baby, the rubber is so I can LAST LONGER... you're so beautiful I... I... can't help myself"). Quickly turn it down and count the days until your landlord gets the heating bill.
Early morning: In bed, can't sleep because you spent all day sleeping so your body can channel everything it has to battle the virus.
And that's being so sick that all you accomplish is sleep. But I HEALED MYSELF ON MY OWN!! Doctors are for pussies. The body can recover from just about anything.
I'm still coughing and my nose is fighting against a new build-up of frozen hippo spunk. I keep checking my phlegm for blood... this COULD be lung cancer... but I'm not that lucky. (Hey kids!! Check out my Sean Shannon impression!!)
It's been two weeks since we last talked. I promised I wouldn't go twenty days again. I'm still honoring my word. That's a virtue of mine. Once the word is given, its set in stone. Really, it's the only thing we take with us, our word and our rep.
Right now, I'm listening to the Southern Rock station on AIM XM free radio. Not even a huge fan of Southern Rock... and Lynard Skynard can suck my cock... but its a change of pace.
SPEAKING OF MUSIC... I have heartbreaking news to report. Due to the insufferably COLD goddam weather out here in New England, my in-trunk ten disc CD changer is now always skipping songs... BADLY because the fucking machine is in the trunk and doesn't warm up until its been playing for about 30 minutes. SO it's on winter hyattus until shit around here warms up. In the meantime, I'm planning to revamp the line-up and put in an all-new set list:
1) Eminem - possibly the last one and the second to last one. I love that Marshall Mathers is now like 220 pounds and won't leave his mansion.
2) Best of Van Halen
3) The latest White Stripes Album, which is still in my current line-up, but I love the damn CD. Jack White is a genius.
4) Fergie goes back into rotation.
5) The Dropkick Murphys: You have to be from Boston to like this stuff.
6) Rhianna: Amazing girl.
7) Best of Rob Zombie. How can you not listen to "Living Dead Girl" and not want to jam something down a girl's butthole?
8) Alicia Keyes: Her latest one. You know that song, "No One"? Well... it's the new "Oh shit, that song reminds me of YOU" song. (Do we still do that or have we drifted too far?)
9) Frank Sinatra: I have two box sets, his Capitol Years and his Reprise Years One disc from one of them is going here.
10) I reserve the right to add my final selection, my official "SONGS OF THE SUMMER" last CD right here. But I might just bookend it with another Eminem CD... or maybe bust out the Limp Bizkit. Who knows.
Bored? Blow me, motherfucker. This isn't even a WRESTLING column... and if you're still waiting for me to rip on Dave Scherer or Wade Keller... keep holding your breath.
Tammy Sytch, who has taken my advice (by way of someone ELSE, I assume) and learned to keep her yap SHUT, is on AIM, like, ALL the time. During "Raw", during the PPVs, all day, most of the night... I wonder if she's staying online all the time as a substitute for crack?
Peyton Manning's problem is that he's peaking right smack dab in the middle of the Tom Brady era... so he'll always be a monster bitch AND an afterthought. This makes him the most insecure star quarterback I've ever seen. I mean, last year all he did was take every single commercial spot offered to him... "LOOK AT ME, I'M PEYTON MANNING!!! I'M ON TV DOING COMMERCIALS!! TOM WHO?? WHOOOOO???"
It's the dude's insecurity that cost his team a rematch against the Patriots, which they would've BLOWN because Tom Brady is as confident as Peyton is insecure. Brady's ex-girlfriend, Bridget Moynahan could announce that she was selling Brady's infant son on the 50 yard line to the President of NAMBLA and he wouldn't lose his focus. The man pisses ice water.
But you have to give the football announcers credit. They HAVE to try to make a game out of this. They know the Giants are toast, they KNOW this will be a blow-out (unless the Patriots defense just drops dead from exhaustion, which isn't impossible to believe. Keep those old farts on the field long enough and they'll gas. Problem with that is, Brady is going to eat away at the clock... nice and easy. And he'll score... lots of times.
Patriots 60, Giants 3
Nah, but close enough.
Speaking of football, you will never see such a public relation misfire then when Jessica Simpson decided to make a spectacle of herself at the Cowboys game a few weeks back. Look, her career isn't doing that hot, but she is still ungodly cute and still a fairly known name... so she (and her management/father) decided to put on a cute pink Romo cowboy jersey and get her face on the football screen all game long. Fudge, she is so hot though. Damn near perfect.
You know the rest. The Cowboys lost, Romo played lousy, and everyone blamed Jessica Simpson. Now not only does no one care about her but her HOME STATE wants her never to show up at a game again. I haven't seen such a bad celebrity move since "Armed and Famous".
LOVE T.O. though. My favorite player, just because he's always up to something.
Speaking of sports... wait, this Southern Rock only station, which I've had on for the last hour and 15 minutes, has played ZZ Top three times already. Jeeze.
Anywhoo, I'll get to more sports later. Let's get to some comments.
1) November 5, 2007 9:54 AM Anonymous said... A belated welcome back! I just found you'd re-opened this place a couple days ago and I've already blown through the archives. Now I'm checking back twice a day. Do I need help? It's so weird that you're down with "Ghost Hunters", because that show always makes me think of you. There's the Rhode Island connection, plus Jason Hawes looks exactly like I figure you look. Wasn't that lighthouse episode f'ed up?
Jason Hawes, huh? Well... he's awfully humorless, and nervous on camera.
I'm bald, he's bald. I have better eyes (AMAZING FUCKING EYES, BETTER THAN LARRY'S) and there is no point on the end of my nose like he has. I think I'm taller too. And my shoulders are wider.
And I would NEVER grow a goatee... I am NOT a cliche! It's why I don't have tattoos anywhere above the small of my back (gotten LOOOONG before it became a chick thing... and believe me, I'm not too happy about THAT particular cultural development). Everyone and their mother has tattoos on their shoulders and arms, to show off like a douchebag. Not me.
Now they are running an "International" version of the show, and this team is headed by this robot guy who looks like he should be trolling elementary school playgrounds. Creepier than any possible ghost. Man looks like he enjoys beating the wife if dinner isn't on the table at precisely 6:01:30 pm.
I still think they are looking for God, but I WISH they would explain why sometimes when they catch a shadow man walking around (like during that prison episode), they fucking acknowledge the flash of white that looks suspiciously like a white, bony leg that sometimes shows up.
Anyway, Ghosts are real and if you don't believe me, buy a Ouji board and invite whoever answers into your home. Then the fun begins.
God is real too... as is Satan. Faith, kids... its all about faith.
2) November 7, 2007 10:39 PM ... Anonymous said... So i am trying to figure out your work place. Where can you interact with little 18 year old chicks to wrestle down, Rich/handsome ethnic types, and young grad students. Any hints?
So you are baffled by a place of business that employs people of all ages (so long as they're legal), ethnicities, and educations? Would it shock you that my place also employs JEWS and BLACKS and MUSLIMS and near-middle aged white ASSHOLES (heh... hiya!)???
What baffles ME is that here we are, 3 months later, and no one went for the ol' Janitor joke. Come ON, people!
You know, I actually forgot the name of the kid who started that rumor. I swear.
I like my job. I'd rather be someplace else (<---inside reference) but as far as jobs go, I don't wake up every morning saying, "Well, this is gonna suck." (I saved that phrase for when I did wrestling columns... and when I'm about to get laid)
But like my picture, it will remain a mystery until someone spills it to get back at me for something... and there are only two people who can do that... and believe me, the shit I have on them!!! BWAHAHAHAHAA...
Anyway, my face and my gig will stay up to your imaginations because part of my charm is STILL the enigma.
3) November 16, 2007 5:47 AM Anonymous said... Here's my question...Newport or Narragansett in the summer, ya know when your not trolling in Provincetown?
Ahhh, local flavor!
For the rest of you... "Provincetown" is part of Cape Cod, which is pretty much THE summer getaway spot for lower-upper middle class Southern New Englanders who can't afford to take the Ferry to Martha's Vinyard (which is where the upper crust like to hang out... and its where the Kennedys live). Most of Cape Cod (which is where both Kurt Vonnegut and Norman Mailer lived) is perfectly a-ok... nice, laid back, amazing seafood restaurants.
Anyway, here's a map:
Click on it for a closer look
But Provincetown... which is just around that little hooking tip of the Cape, for whatever reason, has been the East coast version of San Francisco since time out of mine.
It's homo-central, people.
Which is neither good, nor bad... just... fruity. I bet it smells nice up there though. The gays always know how to work the cologne.
Anyway, that's what Anonymous was referring to.
Newport is a part of Rhode Island that is terribly ashamed to be a part of Rhode Island and wishes the commoners FROM Rhode Island (basically, anyone within twenty miles of Providence) would stay away. Narragansett is also part of Rhode Island and knows it... and whether it likes it or not is unclear, but the town does overcharge for property there so they make it tough for just anyone to move in. Both are basically beachfront locations.
If I was looking to suck cock, I would go to Newport in the summer. Pretty boats, hot young girls, huge mansions that you can tour. Good food. Lots of old queens to roll because they have lots of money.
Narragansett is a good place to take your family to for a day of beaching, bar-b-que, and fireworks... but if you don't like cheap-ass clamcakes, you're sunk.
Two more then I'm done
4) January 29, 2008 8:13 AM Patricia said... He doesn't have time to email people, never mind update a blog.
You're right aboot updating the blog, angelluv, but I have plenty of time to e-mail people. However, my frequency is always dictated by the quality AND quantity of responses.
In other words: Unanswered emails and ignored topics will NEVER inspire me to keep going.
5) January 4, 2008 8:17 PM Paul said... Any idea how many comments it takes to FILL this thing ;)
I sure do. Enough to get me to do it again. It's a slide rule that's always changing.
In closing, I damn sure hope the producers of the new Batman movie killed the Joker in "The Dark Knight" and didn't set the character up to return for a second go-round... because then they would REALLY be fucked.
And with Heath Ledger's death, Dustin Diamond moves one step up the actor's ladder. GO FOR IT, SCREECH!!
