Sunday, July 31

Nice to get the day back

This time last year, thanks to the wonderful quirkiness of international travel I did not see July 31.

Of course it existed (unless the whole world is a figment of my own incredible imagination), it's just that I happened to be on an airplane that crossed the Date Line.

Goodbye LA on the evening of July 30, hello Brisbane on the morning of August 1.

This year I'm staying put and plan to spend the whole day in Cambridge, but as a nod to Australia, here is her greatest export, Dame Edna Everage terrorizing Charlton Heston.

Saturday, July 30

Itsy Bitsy

I fucking hate that stupid Yellow Polka Dot Bikini song. I'll come back to this.

The medication my doctor gave me for my back has done the trick of removing the pain.

It also returned me to the upright shape you see in those homo sapien comparison tables where we turn from flying fish to reptile to monkey to man. I'm no scientist so cut me some slack with the transition, I'm also no theologist of course because I think Adam, and for that matter Eve, had perfect posture and no lumbar pain.

So what's the problem? Well for most of the week my vision has had the added bonus of yellow dots everywhere. They go away at night to be replaced by the rankest of dreams. No nightmares, just those shitty dreams where you are constantly working towards some unachievable goal or destination. My get out of bed times for the past 4 days have been 9am, 3am, 9am and 3am.

For fans of 1970's British telly, here's a picture of Itsy and Bitsy.

Sunday, July 24

Well that's nice

I was looking for an on-line Scrabble partner today, when this one popped up.



And a day later an opponent played this.

Monday, July 18

Hospital Design

I visited a hospital today. Not one with wards, but rather a series of out-patient facilities like XRay, MRI, OB-GYN and Pain Management.

I noticed as I entered that the Lifestyle Management center which deals with obesity was right at the front by the cafeteria. Really? These guys couldn't use an extra 100 feet walk away from the lunch buffet and Mini-Danish selection?

Meanwhile, Pain Management, aka people who cannot currently walk, was on the 2nd Floor at the end of a long corridor. Baffoons I tell ya.

I met with a Doc about my ongoing Back, Neck and Forearm problems which still sounds better than 'Spinal issues".

Afterwards he sent me for an X-Ray on my neck and lower back. The technician wasn't the brightest of bulbs. She was bitching to me to stand still for my neck X-ray when I reminded her that I cannot fucking stand at the moment.

When I suggested I sit on a chair her face went from "You shat in my Martini" to "Wow! You're some kind of wizard" in two very deliberate seconds. I'm going to name her, but not to shame her. Her name was Sarah Greene ... I didn't bother asking her about Mike Smith and his helipcopter.

Thursday, July 14

Hey it's a sequel

And as usual it sucks more than the first one.

I've screwed my back up again, and I'm sure I'm going to need surgery.

Right now I'm shaped like a desk lamp.

In the words of Jean-Paul Satre, "That's such a pisser".

Don't feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for Anne. Patience of Angels.

Monday, July 11

Ooh look at me I'm pretty and ugly

Anyone had an assful of guys in their 20's and 30's with scraggy long beards?

Underneath the Grizzly Adams look is a normal guy who probably works in an H&R Block, but not shaving is obviously some meaningful attack on the boring rules of society ... man.

And why do they all live in Somerville? Or Oregon?

Oh they have organic rhubarb at the Farmer's Market!!!
Yeah, me and girlfriend (who uglies her self up with some post-modern 80's glasses) went to see Iron + Wine last night
We only have 2 gaming systems ...
My 2-year old loves yoga

Tosspots!

Wednesday, July 6

Wanderlust

aka First World Problem

I'm craving a big trip somewhere.

Next month we're heading to a beach-front cottage on the Cape with my sister and her youngest daughter Grace. Visions of sandcastles and frisbees, deck-chairs and sunsets, will probably give way to tantrums, mosquitoes and sunburn. But for now every time I go to Target I'm buying fun beach stuff for our week in the sun.

Meanwhile Anne and I cannot decide on our next big adventure. Granted Anne is working every spare hour on her new business, but I think our biggest obstacle is balancing an exotic distant destination with the probability that we'll have to take a tour with strangers. And that seldom works out well.

In the running? South America, China, Yellowstone.

I'd also love to spend an elongated amount of time back in England, exploring parts of my homeland that I never got round to visiting. I'm currently watching Coast, the BBC show that treks around the edges of the UK, highlighting all of the weird and wonderful geography, sea-life and events of Britain's coastline. It's an excellent show blighted by presenters who speak with an over-excitable tone, especially the short tongued historian who cannot pronounce his 'r's, 'v's or 'w's.

Monday, July 4

Apple pastry spiced with cinnamon, covered in icing

Why is Starbucks full of prize winning twats?

To paraphrase the un-great Lionel Ritchie, I know it's easy, but come on ... if the people in there get any further up their own asses they'll become certified colonoscopists.

I know I'm part of the problem, paying silly money for a wanker-chino, and I'm surprised the guy behind the counter managed to suppress his contempt for me, but little did he know I was just the warm-up act.

The fuckhole behind me had the cadence of someone with a good education, but with an undertone of dickishness that will find him bitterly telling people at parties for the next 5-10 years that "My boss is an asshole who just doesn't get me".

He looked at the pastry display like he was working out the big-brain equation in Good Will Hunting.

"What's in the Apple Fritter? Because it doesn't look like I would expect it to".

Here's why I don't work retail. My answer would be "Apple and Fritter, now fuck right off you nerdy c*nt."

Some of my best friends are ...

Oh boy. I just watched a news report about a town in Alabama that is instigating a clampdown on illegal immigrants.

The sheriff without a shred of irony, said, "This isn't about race, some of my best friends are hispanics". He added, "But they're not illegals".

In an attempt to add balance, the report interviewed a grossly obese woman who "Just happened to fall in love", with an illegal Mexican immigrant. "We're trapped inside our house". Really? Do you have one of those automated sushi conveyer belts running through your trailer home? If not, who is feeding you?

Her little boy is frustrated, he keeps asking "Mommy, when can we go to the beach?".

The town is 310 miles from the beach.