Exactly What I Needed

When I turned on my car to go to the doctor this morning, it was about fifty times louder than normal. So after I went to the doctor, I took the car into the shop to see why it was being so pissy.

Answer: Busted exhaust pipe, a couple of gaskets that need to be replaced, and something else I can't remember right now.

Cost: About $1,000.

Not getting my car back til: Monday at the earliest.

Fuck: Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

I had to beg my dad for money again, which I really fucking hate doing (though not, I suspect, as much as he hates it), because I don't have a spare thousand bucks sitting around for the purpose of fixing my car, and I'm also unemployed.

I need to find a job, and soon, that doesn't require much exertion, doesn't require me to sit, and doesn't put me in constant danger.

The last qualifier rules out bank robbery, which I was considering, but since I quit my previous job because I was seriously afraid I'd get shot, it'd be somewhat hypocritical for me to take another job where getting shot is one of the major hazards.

This also rules out the military. When I called to beg my dad for money, my stepmom answered, and said "Well, as long as you don't join the military." I pointed out there's a certain Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy that they're probably not enforcing right now that rules me out, but she still made me promise.

Some days I just want to curl up under a rock until this stupid thing heals, and other days I just want to go out and get on with my life. Today came from Door #1. Hopefully I won't have to choose from the doors much longer.

C! H! O!

You need to go see the Cho Revolution tour. I saw the first show of the tour when Margaret was here in Chicago a couple months ago, and the show has only gotten much funnier and better-timed since last I saw it.

The last show was pretty damn funny, but short of Margaret's expected piss-your-pants-you're-laughing-so-hard hilarity. She came and played NU tonight and she's definitely honed the material to the point where I almost fell out of my damn chair I was laughing so hard.

When you can do that with material that I've already heard at least half of, you're on a roll. Highly recommended.

My Ass Is Not Me, Dammit!

I've realized a problem: The only thing I seem to be talking to people about lately is my ass. Granted, the nature of my condition produces many funny stories, so it's not all bad.

Like when I had to go in for a checkup and the nurse came in and said "Ooh, can I see?", in reference to my wound. I was like, um, NO. I'm just waiting for someone to come in with one of those head lamps cavers wear asking if they can look for gold or something.

The most disturbing part of the story is that the nurse a woman who seemed nice, who I've had several conversations with because I keep coming in, and who I now will no longer be able to look in the eye.

So silly stories like this end up working their way into my repetoire. Also, words like "end," "but," "rear," and any of a thousand other euphemisms or homonyms for euphemisms for ass take on double meanings, and make people snicker when they talk to me.

They make me snicker too, but I have the sense of humor of a sixth-grader, so never mind.

However, the problem arises in that I really don't have much else going on right now, so that when people ask me what's up, I have two options as to what I can say.

1. Say, "Oh, not much," and pretty much leave it at that.
2. Explain what's actually going on.

Both options have their problems, especially if #1 is followed and I'm asked to elaborate. However, when I follow #2, I tend to drive people away screaming, which is what I would do if I were not actually participating in this joyousness.

So I've determined I need to a) pick a career path or at least b) find gainful employment so I can at least bitch about my job, and not about my ass.

Well, one of these days, maybe.

Also

Watching a whole hell of a lot of TV over the last week (even by my standards), I came to a realization:

We need legislation specifically prohibiting the use of Smash Mouth's song "All Star" in any movie, TV show, or television commercial ever again. There's a reason it's never played on the radio anymore:

We've heard the song. We know the song. We're sick of the fucking song!

Congress has passed far stupider legislation than this. Please, make it stop.

Updated Update

Okay, I can sit and type for a few minutes now, so here's what's happening with the Ass Cyst Follies:

Surgery went well, although one little snag was that apparently the particular hospital I went to requires that you be intubated (have a tube shoved down your throat so you can breathe) if you get general anesthetic, so I had a sore throat and talked like Carol Channing for a couple of days.

I've been lying around and reading and watching an absurd amount of movies and generally losing my mind because it hurts to walk more than about a block, and thus I've left the house about twice in the last week, not counting doctor visits.

I've also been doing a whole lot of bitching, but that's normal for me. Though I think Adam and Katy are about to be like, "Okay, look bitch...", since they have to deal with things like being Editor in Chief of the Daily and having a severely compressed quarter, respectively.

I also seem to have killed off a number of brain cells, because I'm forgetting things left and right and generally feeling like a senile 78-year old (insert your own joke about them actually removing my brain from my ass instead of the cyst...here).

I'm sure this sounds like a fun time to most of you, but I want to go out and get on with my life, get a job, get a life, just get done with all of this shit and move on. Alas, it ain't gonna happen anytime soon, because I'll probably still be in a lot of pain for at least another week.

At least I'm off the Darvocet now. There's a warning on the bottle that says "May Cause Drowsiness." It should say "May Cause Narcolepsy," because that shit will knock you out colder than Alaska in February, and will do it without warning.

Anyway, more sporadic updates to come as I'm able to sit for longer periods of time.