Bless you

ok no not really. I had a sneezing fit to beat the band today. What does that mean "beat the band?" I mean really can I possibly sneeze enough to beat off an entire band? Also a band of what? Units people. Jeezus. OK so I sneezed. Why did I sneeze?

Warning: this is a little trip inside my head...

Well I don't really have allergies anymore and I'm not sick (Knock on wood. Well no don't I don't believe in that shit either.) I am a photo sneezer. You don't believe me, do you? Well good be a skeptic, it's sexy. It means that sneeze when the light hits me just right. You know like in raiders of the lost ark with the stick and that artifact that burned the shit out of the scary nazi mutherfucker? The light hits me just right and I sneeze the number of paces to find some treasure. OK that's just silly. I sneeze when the light goes from dim to bright. I sneeze like a mutherfucker. Multiple times. Sometimes I count them.

You might be asking yourself (or me) why the fuck do you count your sneezes? I count them because I can. You're all, "ya so?" but next time you start coughing tell me how many times did you cough? We don't have a good way to count that now do we? I mean is it one breath that leads to a single cough or each time you go and make that cough sound (how the fuck do you spell that. I mean a sneeze is a sneeze a-choo. What the fuck is a cough). Do you get my point? You can have a coughing fit and then turn around and say, "Wow I coughed 7 times that time and my gut really fucking hurts now owch."

My premise for this whole post is you can count sneezes but you can't count other bodily spasms such as coughs or yawns. Do you believe me? No? Good. Skeptics are hot.

So if you can count them you can add them. So when you're born you might sneeze 3 times the first day. Actually I'm not really into early childhood development so I really don't know if a newborn can even get their shit together enough to sneeze. Tammy brings up the fact that maybe you can sneeze before you are born, but I'm not going there because it fucks up the math a little bit.

So from day one you sneezed. Then you sneezed some more. No one was counting. Why weren't they counting? Because that would be even stupider than me. Nobody is going to follow you around and count your sneezes. As a baby even if you can get your shit together enough to sneeze you sure as fuck don't have your shit together enough to count it.

So you've sneezed n times. I bet you I've sneezed a different amount than you. Could I ever collect on that bet? nope. NO clue. I have no idea how many times you've sneeze and you (and everybody else) has no clue how often I've sneezed. I sure as fuck don't know.

I do know one thing. It's either an odd number or an even number. One or the other. Why do I know this? Because you can count them. They are discreet. Either you sneezed or you didn't. So it's either odd or it's even. If I sneeze one time, I know it either just became odd or just became even. I know it changed. Seconds ago my sneeze count was either odd or even and now that I've come around the corner and saw the sun and sneezed exactly 17 times it's now the opposite of what it was before. Odd or even...

odd.

Let's toss in a little...

Backpeddaling today... oh yes let's do the work backpeddal... it's a hopping little record I want my jockey to play... Gotta backpeddal again today.

someone dial IX;I;I?

Have you ever...

Had a sequence at work where everything that *could* go wrong did go wrong?

Rest of my life is going fine (except for the afformentioned alleged infraction, but that's even ok, not fine, but ok) but man work is really screwing with me now.

All I can do is just keep plugging at it.

This post was brought to you by the Letters "B" and "S" and the numbers 6, six and VI ...

ok well... see the thing is...

I'm not so fine.

I talked to the lawyer and while this isn't anything but $$'s. I'm way less fine than I thought....

We're fine

You know driving an expedition might be just a tee tiny bit excessive, but when you fill it up with people then it seems ok.

We went with some friends down to the water front in Seattle today and had a blast. Parking was really interesting. We used the funky lot across from the aquarium. It has a clearance of 6'3" that's smaller than some friends of mine, but ok we're fine. I keep saying just that as we go up the little ramps... We're fine... Down the little ramps... We're fine... Around corners... We're fine... All the while we only hit one thing and that was a sign that moved that said something about six foot three. I Dunno. We're fine.

Walking out we had to cross a big ass puddle... we're fine.

I said to the parking attendant as we walked by... "we're fine" "I'm fine" a few (ok a lot of) times.

From there we went to cold stone in lynnwood. I got all stupid high on sugar and Macadamia nuts that I must have been driving funny because I got pulled over by a cop who looked like he was 12. We're fine.

He asked me to move into a parking lot. So I did. He asked for my license I gave it to him and he asked for proof of insurance. I couldn't find that. We're fine.

He went back to his car to fuck me. Uh I mean write up the infraction. First he came back and wanted to talk to me. I opted out of that. He said "Were you aware of your speed back there?" and I said, "I don't want to discuss it" he said "OK"... We're fine.

He writes me up for 50 in a 30... we're fine. I'm not guilty I'm sure. So I'll call the lawyer in the morning and pay her more than the ticket to prove to the court system that I am in fact, fine.

Careful...

OK this one is going to be one of those ones that I have to walk to potty humor line very carefully. It kinda happens whenever I have something to blog about something that happens in the bathroom. At work. I don't blog about the bathroom at home. I shouldn't huh? anyways.

So I always read. You know what I mean, right? With the above paragraph you do know what I mean. Lately I've had a shortage of interesting books at work to take with me. I had taken "everything and more" with me home to read when I was sick. That was pretty stupid because it's a book about the history of mathematics and infinity and how mathematics has handled the concept since the Greeks til modern times. OK so when you're really sick (I took 1/2 my sick time for the year in March) reading about math is right out. I read "mouse tales" which is an insider's guide to Disneyland and it's history. Really really great book. So cool(I'm so avoiding the subject of this post huh?)

So I took a management book into the bathroom with me. It was "To do; Doing; Done" an old favorite of mine on project management. OK fine. For whatever reason I thought later in the day I left it in the disabled stall in the 2nd floor bathroom. So shit. What do I do? I go get the mutherfucker. It's not the first time I've lost this particular book. I lent it to someone and well to do doing done was "to do; doing; gone" (It's ok M, really.) So I don't have to go, but I'm going. "Oh YOU'RE going!"

I go in and it's not empty. I mean not only is the bathroom not empty but the stall in question (2nd stall on the right and straight on til morning) is occupied. Fuck.

I hadn't planned for this problem. Now if all the stalls were taken I could just wait (I so deleted a potty humor joke here). But only my target stall was busy so I didn't know what to do. Wait like a creep standing there? Nope. I dip into another stall and hide. Yes I did. Are you laughing? I was, but it was that supressed laugh that you have to have in public places such as restrooms. So I had "urinal guy" and "stall guy" that I was waiting for an exit. Urinal guy goes and washes. I hear pages turning. Is that my book, you mutherfucker?

Urinal guy leaves. Flush from stall guy. ok good. I hope for a second that he doesn't wash because I don't want him to see me exit stall 2 and enter stall 3 just to find my god damn book. That would be weird. Like this blog entry isn't weird.

So he washes. I even hear the soap go.... clean. Nice. OK now I hope no one else comes in because I'll be stuck in stall 2 while they finish whatever the hell they need to do because I'm not coming out of stall 2 and entering stall 3 with anyone in there. I've decided that's where I draw the line. So stall guy leaves and I bolt out of the stall and look in stall 3.

No book. Did stall guy just take it? No likely not. It's not on the bench. Shit. Do I ask the receptionist down front? uh no. Why? I tell you it would go like this, "did anyone turn in a book?"

Recep says back, "uh no where did you leave it?"

Me, "uh stall 3 on the second floor men's room."

recep, "um no. no books... " (likely gives me a look at this point as I leave)

So I'll send her email asking if the book has been turned in. That's my plan. My master plan. The plan that will not be defeated... I go back to my office.

So see the thing is. I get back to my office. I had to add some new hardware and the thing is... my book... well it was right there next to my new switch box.

Situation normal.

If I had a hammer...

I do have a hammer. Fuck. It's not my hammer. It's Mo's hammer. He left it and I rescued it. He went and started his new job. He seems to really like it.

So I have this hammer. I've done nothing with it. Not one god damn thing so therefore. If I had a hammer I wouldn't hammer at all. Not in the evening not in the morning. Not with mouse or in a house. I wouldn't do it with a goat. (Oh the search engines are gonna love that) Not on a boat. No sir no hammering.

Why?

Because as you might know I'm NOT "good with tools."

My parents bought be a wood burning set at a child. Not that they bought me a wood burning set and expected me to treat it as if it were my child. No. I was a child and they gave me what equated to a soldering iron and told me to apply it to wood. The results were quite simple. 2 or 3 good burns on my skin and at least one small fire. Do not use alcohol from the chemistry set to try and cool scortched woood. OK it wasn't that bad, I might not be good with tools, and I might be stupid sometimes, but I'm not dumb. Also I didn't need any flamable liquid to start a small fire with that mutherfucker. It was way easier than that.

Did I mention the chemistry set... ya bad.

back?

Front. Who knows?

I want to get back to blogging. I'm sorry I've been so away. My hits stayed up there what with all the free porno driving my random hits into the level of silly.

I usually like to wait til I have something to say. Something that I think is funny.

It was hard to find stuff funny while I had the virus and the fever.

Now while other stuff seems a little funny the virus and fever are still not funny. You know when you look back on something awful and you can laugh? I still can't laugh about that. I'm working on it. I managed to find humor in my viral tonsillitis from over 5 years ago, but it certainly wasn't funny at the time. It's kinda funny now.

So I was really sick. I had this bad ass fever that nobody could bring down and they knew I had an infection but they didn't know where it was (that freaks docs out). This was back when we still lived in the shit hole. So I got this blinding headache that went from the back of my neck forward and I called the doc. He told me to high tail it to the ER. He was a Doc who would give you that, "you're fine!" on the phone usually. So I booked out.

When I got there and described my symptoms they got me back kinda quick. They thought I have might have meningitis. Which I thought was a disease reserved for the Mennonites, but apparently not.

So now picture Hank Azaria when he plays the dog walker in "mad about you" as your Dr.

got it? scary? a little bit. Thick NY accent and yet speaks very slowly which isn't common in NY.

He takes a look at me and in that thick accent when he looks down my throat (talk about no wonder we pay dr.'s alot. They also have to look UP YOUR FUCKING NOSE. That's up your nose. Anyways)

He looks down my throat and says, "oh geez look at the size of THOSE!"

I'm all, "what?" (but you couldn't understand me because I was in the AHHHH position and he was still looking in there intently. I don't do the whole tongue depressor thing because well I fucking hate them. A nurse practitioner once surprised me with one and I took her by the wrist. Freaked her out a little (and me too as I hadn't realized what I was doing) I can fucking say AHH and you can see my pyloric valve (which is the south side of one's stomach). What can I say I have a big fucking mouth.)

He told me my tonsills were so big they had folded over on themselves. He asked me if I had had tonsillitis before. Which the correct answer is "NO" because otherwise you find your self upstairs being admitted so they can take them out. Honestly at that point I was in so much pain they could have taken them out with a golf club and I'd have been OK with it.

I love to blog.

Is there ever...

Is there ever a pleasnt irony?

It always sucks, doesn't it?

sorry no blog

friends don't let friends blog with a fever...

I'm so sick.

That is all.

Spam dreams

No I don't dream of canned meat. I do on occasion eat some corned beef hash but that's another post entirely.

I got some spam asking me if I wanted the, "Rolex watch you've always dreamed of."

Do you dream about watches? I don't.

When you dream about watches do you see the brand name?

I don't dream about stuff like that. I don't dream about things.

I have scary dreams. Scary for me and I'm sure more scary for you to hear about them. So stop reading this. Don't read anymore. Really quit it.

OK so sorry to disappoint as my dreams are pretty standard. When I'm anxious I dream about being around a lot of people in a class room setting where I am seated and completely naked (you think that will get as many hits as 15 mentions or "porno"?) and nobody seems to notice that they all have clothes and I don't. Sometimes something good happens and I turn up with a robe or something equally silly to wear (I won't do details about what I might be wearing here, really neither you or I want that, now do we?)

Boring I know. But I fucking warned you not to keep reading, didn't I?

When I have good dreams they usually involve flying around familiar places or the ability to control time. Sometimes very rarely I get control of my dreams and then I either do something really stupid -- the usual I'll get to that in a moment -- or I change the location to something really exotic like Kings Island amusement park in Ohio and fly around there.

If I do something really stupid when I have control I make a nightmare out of it really quickly and really the most scary things to have happen happen like being impaled on a very large candy cane like spike.

I told you to stop reading. I did.

OK I feel bad...

Click that check box near the bottom of the page and that leads to my web stats. If you click on the "how" link in the upper left hand corner (sorry about the popup) you'll see what search term is hitting me most.

I feel bad for all those guys out there who are searching for something so not my blog and getting my blog... oh well...

I won't say the word again. 15 times was enough.

I got me...

The coolest thing ever. It's a bronze singing bowl with baton. It's this bowl made of metal and when you drag this piece of wood around the outside it makes the coolest sound. You have to slow or it doesn't work. Harmonics. It's from Nepal.

When I clean it up and make it look nice I'll take a photo of it and post it.

uh cap-com we are no go for the haircut

So I was going to get a haircut this morning. I was going to drag the boy out of bed at 7:30 and get myself and him a serious set of hair cuts. There were clippers in the plan, people. But... no.

OK so why did we scrub the cut?

Because of the damn dog. Not the new dog no no. The usual suspect. He's got a new habit of barfing right about 3:30am. This is very disruptive to my night. I mean I have to get up and then clean it up.

you might want to stop reading now. I mean this isn't funny it's gross. OK it might be funny to someone but then again watching cspan is funny for some. Hey I know a guy who watches QVC at night because it's funny. Wait it is funny.

OK so ya gross.

So I have to clean it up. It's bad you know. This isn't your garden variety I ate grass and drank salt water like a stupid dog and tossed it back up for your pleasure. No sir this is industrial strength nasty fucking vomit.

So there is the cleaning. The Flushing and then the cleaning more to help alleviate the smell. And the gagging. No not the dog, ME.

So then I'm all up in the night. When I was younger (listen to me? I'm fucking 36 not 86 (WHAT DID YOU SAY?)) when I was younger I could just roll over and sleep again. Not now. I get pissed. Does that mean I'm Crotchety? (that is so not in the spell checker.)

Then I got to thinking if you're old are you really crotchety? Does your crotch become somehow more in charge? No-fuckin-way. If that was the way they'd say, "That kid that fucking crotchety punk mutherfuckin' 18 year old better turn his god damn stereo down."

See when you're old isn't the crotch become less important? I mean I hope I'm wrong. I want it get better as it gets older, but I'm guessing by all those damn viagra advertisements that is just isn't the case.

So why do we call it Crotchety?

Do you think someday Quiet Riot will be the spokespeeps for Viagra?

Come on feel the noise... girls rock the boys... we'll get wild wild wild.. ya ya
so you say I've got a limp dick? I've got no worries. I tell them why: Viagra... VIAGRA...

Imagine how bad hearing loss will affect talking dirty:

"Who's my bitch?"
"What?"
"I said WHO's my BITCH?"
"you have an itch? you wanna stop?"
"NO... Who's my SLUT?"
"You're not in a rut honey this is great, keep going we have 2 hours left on that generic viagra pill we got off the internet"
"GODDAMMIT"
"Are you done? I didn't feel it."

Crotchety!

a look back

So Tom posted a video of what used to go on at Seattle Magic back in the day. I watched the whole thing (I had to turn down his music track because I am at work... so be warned. Also the file is very large so don't try it from a slow connection).

I hear that place is a tattoo place now. I haven't been down there since I helped Tom move out of it one day. I share a sense of loss for what was there. I know Tom though and he's often faced adversity with a unique attitude. I wonder if there will ever be another magic shop with Tom as the purveyor. I hope so. If it does, I know it'll have a back room. I haven't bought any magic at all since he closed his doors.

I've started doing a little more magic and it feels good. I'm working more on things that work one on one rather playing large. Sometimes you don't need to play large. I wrote a whole paragraph geeking out on what I'm working on. I erased it because it was just magician talk.

We're a guild, a clan, a society and a brotherhood. You can tell because we have a language all unto ourselves.

Sometimes people will see my collection of magic books and will on rare occasion joke about me not wanting them to read them because they will get the 'secrets' of magic. I always invited them to look at anything they want. Magicians know how to protect their secrets. The books simply aren't readable by anyone who doesn't "know." In most cases they are very boring to uninitiated. (Notice I didn't use the word ignorant.) The best ones are funny as hell for those of us who are, "with it."

I'm so rambling.

Porno Decoy

OK so I'm crazy about seeing what people did to get to my crazy blog. It's a very self centered egotistical and fun activity.

Porno comes up a lot in search strings. What a let down for these people. I mean they search for porno, or for a more specific example, "Pussy Free Porno." Now I wonder if that is male gay porno or if they were looking for some porno with pussy in it but didn't cost any money. I dunno. I didn't click the link to see where I fall in that search, but what a let down huh? No porno at all let alone free or pussy. What are those search engines doing, huh?

The one that could really get me into trouble is the one that says someone searched for, "Tammy Porno" and found my blog. uh oh.

I swear I'm innocent.

The best part of this post is that more people looking for pussy free porno will find this page. Or just Porno. How many times can I work porno in? I think 3 more which will bring me to a grand total of 14 occurrences of Porno (see that's one more porno (two the count is two) )

uh... well I'm at 13 (including the title) so close your ears:

porno.(the number shall be three... for 14 occurrences of that word (see if I said porno (shit) again it would be 15) damn it's 15 now...)

all of my power....

So I went back to the Dr. for followup on the test I had before.

Took my weight, bp temp and listened to my lungs... told me I had something like constrictive airway disease which he says is better than asthma. Asthma sounds a little more friendly to me, but hey.

So then he told me he didn't need the test, I'm fine. Come back in 4 months and he'll fondle my scrotum and take my blood. Fun stuff.

Some people say not to post private personal data to your blog. So:

bp: 110/70
pulse: 80
Weight: 179.5 (yes that's lower than 180)
temp: (yes she took it with a little strip in my MOUTH) 98.2 (cold blooded mutherfucker)

Drive fast; take chances.