Powell's

Powell's is amazing.

I'm tired.

I'm not hungry, but I'm sure I will be soon.

Right now? Did I mention tired?

We're going in again

This is gross.

I warned you. You are forewarned. Gross. Of course you're still reading, but if I had said "upcoming stoopid movie spoiler" you'd have closed the browser cursing me for even posting such things. Drawing pentagrams on the floor in goats blood (no not rental goats and no that's not the gross part.) pentagrams dedicated to my upcoming misfortune. (I wonder what kind of google hits with rental goats and pentagram near each other.)

I have a wart. I went to the Dr. last friday and waited a long time to be treated by a surfer disguised as a dr.

Seriously.

I showed it to him and he said in your best spicoli in your head please not out loud after all you have coworkers (not making this up) "Yeah buddy, we'll fix youuuu right UP. Oh but I gotta run upstairs to get the liquid nitroooo, hope that's all right?"

Me: "um yeah"

"Excellent" (Yes straight out of fast time at ridgemont high)

He comes back and the nurse is all I'll clean your foot off before he does it. He walks right in behind her, "Alrighty, dude let's get to it." He starts in. Fine my foot was clean whatever. I'm all owch. and he's all "Yeah dude this is gonna turn black and just FLAAAAKE off" (his emphasis).

Did it turn black? No.
Did it stop hurting? No.
Did it stop (gross part right here) growing? NOPE.

So today I'm going to my Dr. He's a nice typical doc right from central casting. His name is Larry. I think all Dr.'s should be named Larry.

Maybe some of you already have goat's blood pentagrams guiding the fates to lead me to Jeff Spicoli, MD.

Status on a few trivial items:

Foot? Frozen.
Wart? Allegedy destroyed.
Laundry? Done.
Teeth? Clean. (My average pocket depth is down to about a 2.6 if anyone cares.)

Last night

It became suddenly very apparent when I removed my shirt before bed that I had been also wearing a dryer sheet as part of my ensemble all day.

It makes you wonder who else knew at work I was sporting some bounce on my back.

Done!

I had a big thing due at work. It's done. Done, done & done.

To do, doing, DONE.

Stress level lowering, oxygen returning to normal, calmness coming...

Just a little off the sides and top

So the end of an era is upon us. Our barber for whom at one time the kids and I combed not the best parts of the city to find, has left the profession. Al still owns the shop, but he's no longer cutting hair. He's doing something in the finantial sector now. He has selected several barbers to work in the shop and I take it he's selling it. It was nice to talk to him, but I'm better next time we're a little long, Al is gonna be a little gone.

Max and I will miss him.

This just in

OK I could twitter this but I'm not see. I'm saving my blog. Save the blogs!

Blog version: It's fucking hot is what it is in this house. I think we have a heat poltergeist and I need carol-anne (do you think she hyphenated when she got married?) to get out of the TV and into the A/C. Oh wait we don't have A/C and for these weeks in August we suffer.

The twitter version would be: It's F'in Hot, Peeps.

Can I just say?

Twitter, I think, is killing my blog. And I'm sure, I'm not alone.

4 Ears!

I went to Jen's Dad's for a cook out today. There was corn. A whole f'in bushel of corn. I took a little risk and spoke highly of my stupid corn on the cob recipe. What if it had gone bad? Well for fuck sake we had a whole god damn bushel of it.

So I say, "Don't husk it just grill it. If you husk it after you cook it the silk comes off in one piece."

Now it's been 10 or so years since I've cooked corn so I thought that was right.

Her dad tried it and yup I was right. My uber lazy corn cooking method worked fine and everybody loved the corn.

I loved it so much I had 4 ears of it. 4 ears! Can you hear me now?

And for my next trick

I'll go to Ohio. Notice as my fingers never leave my hands.