4 days,
21 hours,
and 44 minutes
is all I have left
And really, I should stop right there. No need to continue on with additional words, is there?
Well, I suppose there's a minimum amount of words required to officially make this a blog entry. So I shall indeed enter more words. And then, after that, if I'm not quite sure, I'll add additional words beyond even that. And then eventually I'll have so many words that I'll have to change over to Eliminating Excess Words mode. But then I'll eliminate far too many words and —-
Yeah. Writing a blog entry can really be like that. It's all about finding a balance, taking the middle path on the way to wordsmithing nirvana.
Chores
Sunday evening, my wife (ex post facto) and I cleared out nearly half of my room. Well mostly, she did the dirty work - the heavy lifting. Although I did have things organized (prior to her arrival, to a greater extent). So now I'm left with the bare minimum. That mostly includes sweatpants. A sweatshirt. A jacket. A pair of socks. And a three-ring binder.
Haha! No, I do not have a three-ring binder. I don't even know if they have those anymore. Three ring binders are from the olden days. Then again, I'm surrounded by a bunch of olden people here at the nursing home.
Hmmm… Perhaps I'm doing this all wrong, and I should instead, perform a stand-up routine consisting of three ring binder jokes. Nothing lewd or lascivious of course, just your average run of the mill hole utilization and hole-punching by the numbers routine (by a factor of 3).
So that got done.
Pain Management
So the pain management dude comes into my room Saturday morning and tells me that I need to start the paperwork to transfer my medication from the nursing home to my future residence. He said it typically takes 30 days to execute that kind of plan. Which means, I'll need to stretch my 7-Day supply of codeine out to 30 days.
And heck, that's doable.
If not, I have connections now. Drug connections. I could probably get some methamphetamines. Singular. Plural? If not that, they have this new street concoction called Tylenol 6.
The Recipe
For the most part, you guzzle down a six pack of Schlitz Malt Liquor, in tandem with a triple dosage of raspberry flavored simethicone drops, then add one baby aspirin, one extra strength tylenol, and a generic acetaminophen capsule sprinkled with riboflavin. Then you need a quarter milligram of methylphenidate, a 30mg paxil (paroxetine) tablet broken into three tiny pieces, and then of course, seven pieces of moldy bread. Yes, the moldy bread offsets the fungal feng shui inherent to this diabolical mixture. Nobody on this globally warmed planet wants or needs more fungus in their bloodstream. Especially, not us. Not, we the people of Phoenix Rising! Amen!!
New Tube, Old Problem
So the localized extreme pain is greatly diminished now. At least, that's been the case since I had my tube unceremoniously pulled out last week… however, I am back to an old affliction. The thing that used to drive me batty. Heart palpitations. Regular heart palpitations. Irregular heart palpitations. On the clock. Off the timer. Off the beaten path.
It's like I have this massive bubble right beneath my left rib cage that is unrelenting, likely triggering my vagus nerve. Stimulating it somehow.
So that's been a point of contention for the past several days. Beep beep boop boop fast slow fast slow beep beep boop boop everything's okay then. Mostly everything's okay.
Synchronized. Syncopation. Little deviation. For the most part.
So that's what I'm contending with now. I guess it's better than the extreme pain.
Also, and in addition, I have upped my calories the past 3 days. 1200 calories each day is better than 800 calories. Right? So perhaps I won't waste away if I continue on this new mission of maximum milk of magnesia each day. And magnesium citrate. And ginger powder. And simethicone drops. Heck, managing bowels and the other internals isn't what it used to be.
Climate Change
I'm at the park right now and it's a gorgeous 76° f. I've had no interactions or engagements this morning, except having passed by a homeless girl.
Not a good scene. Hopefully this is a temporary situation for her.
Oh, the woman with the double-barreled stroller is here with her twins. They're at the playground now. She already took her jogging / walking run down the bike path and now she's returned. She seems friendly enough. Otherwise it's just dog walking people. Mostly, behind the fence. Plotting out there next poop maneuvers. Or ball fetching scenarios.
You see, yhey fling their balls with these ball flinging objects. Perhaps it's similar to highlight. High lie. Highlight the game.
NOTE: Voice-to-text is FAILING - DOUBLE UGHHH!
Okay then. Context.
It's the game where they fling the f***ing ball against the wall and it bounces around, you know, they do it in Florida, mostly Miami, you know what I mean? Highlight. Highlight halai I think I'm saying it wrong highlight….
Jai Alai!!!!
Jai alai is a sport involving bouncing your balls off the wall. Not to be confused with that '80s heavy metal anthem, "Balls to the Wall" by the German band, Accept.
—- ed-in space by accelerating it to high speeds with a hand-held wicker cesta. It is a variation of Basque Pelota. The term jai alai, coined by Serafin Bajoroja in 1875, is also often loosely applied to the fronton where matches take place in the backon.
See… I knew it was a real thing. A real real thing. According to wikipedia. And Wikipedia don't lie!
Voice-to-text Betrayal is real© too! Technological Subversiveness.
Dog Park Peoples
So yeah, they be flinging things, round, spherical objects. And them dogs be going and going, running rampant, running rapidly, affixed on fetching.
And I see each of them smoking cigarettes as they do so (the people, NOT the dogs!).
Again, this confuses me. There's no smoking allowed at the park. Which, okay, whatever. Doesn't bother me. Smoke doesn't. I have golden olden smoking people outside of my bedroom window everyday doing their smoking thing - yeah, I'm getting their second hand wafting smoke in my room constantly.
But I'm still confused as to why (psychologically) the dog park people are so motivated to smoke so many cigarettes ... while others at the park do not. Is it because their dogs are doing all the exercising so the dog owners don't have to? Or perhaps the smoke masks to poop smell.
I don't get it.
My former best friend was a chain smoking fiend and she had like three or four or five dogs at all times. None of the dogs were trained. Then again, my friend wasn't trained either, except to chainsmoke cigarettes. She was quite good at it. She could smoke in her sleep under her covers in the dead of night. And from what I hear, the dead of night is the best time to do all sorts of things related to smoking. Especially when it comes to smoking the meats.
That's what Arby's does. They cook everything overnight so you don't have to. Thank The Lord for Arby's. Potato pancakes. Yummy yummy.
By the way, there's a Little Wayne food called kugly.
Nope, that's not it.
There's a Lithuanian food called googly. Kuggaly?
Ummm … Basically it's potato pancakes. Same thing.
My mother made that for our fifth grade, food around the world celebration, in Miss Costello's class.
Yeah, that was also the same year I snuck the transistor radio into my classroom on baseball's opening day, so I could listen to the Chicago Cubs take on the New York Mets.
Of course, and despite donning a beanie cap, I got busted with an ear piece. And I didn't get busted because my teacher discovered my secret, it's because the other kids in the classroom were fools and unintentionally ratted me out.
Really, I shouldn't have told anyone what I was doing, how I was listening to the game. Yep. My fault. My bad. I think Barry Foote hit a grand slam. Or something good happened. On that day. Or maybe it didn't. I do remember it was cold and blustery. Not unusual in early April.
Holy smokes, it's a field trip full of children debarking at the park.
Debark at the Park?
Making the dogs quiet? Somehow.
Get it? Tryin' to be funny…
No Bed? No Problem
or
As the World Burns (from the inside out)
I called my case manager again, annnddd … no response. So I went to the director of whatever and she says something about me postponing my departure and I says no flippin' way and she says I ain't gonna have no bed cuz there ain't enough time (cuz they never done did nothin' when I told 'em last week abouts these things) and I say fuck it, don't care bout no bed - you know, even at there best these days, real life humans is imbeciles front an center!
Take care - hope you enjoyed the randomness,
H
Final Shots------
21 hours,
and 44 minutes
is all I have left
And really, I should stop right there. No need to continue on with additional words, is there?
Well, I suppose there's a minimum amount of words required to officially make this a blog entry. So I shall indeed enter more words. And then, after that, if I'm not quite sure, I'll add additional words beyond even that. And then eventually I'll have so many words that I'll have to change over to Eliminating Excess Words mode. But then I'll eliminate far too many words and —-
Yeah. Writing a blog entry can really be like that. It's all about finding a balance, taking the middle path on the way to wordsmithing nirvana.
Chores
Sunday evening, my wife (ex post facto) and I cleared out nearly half of my room. Well mostly, she did the dirty work - the heavy lifting. Although I did have things organized (prior to her arrival, to a greater extent). So now I'm left with the bare minimum. That mostly includes sweatpants. A sweatshirt. A jacket. A pair of socks. And a three-ring binder.
Haha! No, I do not have a three-ring binder. I don't even know if they have those anymore. Three ring binders are from the olden days. Then again, I'm surrounded by a bunch of olden people here at the nursing home.
Hmmm… Perhaps I'm doing this all wrong, and I should instead, perform a stand-up routine consisting of three ring binder jokes. Nothing lewd or lascivious of course, just your average run of the mill hole utilization and hole-punching by the numbers routine (by a factor of 3).
So that got done.
Pain Management
So the pain management dude comes into my room Saturday morning and tells me that I need to start the paperwork to transfer my medication from the nursing home to my future residence. He said it typically takes 30 days to execute that kind of plan. Which means, I'll need to stretch my 7-Day supply of codeine out to 30 days.
And heck, that's doable.
If not, I have connections now. Drug connections. I could probably get some methamphetamines. Singular. Plural? If not that, they have this new street concoction called Tylenol 6.
The Recipe
For the most part, you guzzle down a six pack of Schlitz Malt Liquor, in tandem with a triple dosage of raspberry flavored simethicone drops, then add one baby aspirin, one extra strength tylenol, and a generic acetaminophen capsule sprinkled with riboflavin. Then you need a quarter milligram of methylphenidate, a 30mg paxil (paroxetine) tablet broken into three tiny pieces, and then of course, seven pieces of moldy bread. Yes, the moldy bread offsets the fungal feng shui inherent to this diabolical mixture. Nobody on this globally warmed planet wants or needs more fungus in their bloodstream. Especially, not us. Not, we the people of Phoenix Rising! Amen!!
New Tube, Old Problem
So the localized extreme pain is greatly diminished now. At least, that's been the case since I had my tube unceremoniously pulled out last week… however, I am back to an old affliction. The thing that used to drive me batty. Heart palpitations. Regular heart palpitations. Irregular heart palpitations. On the clock. Off the timer. Off the beaten path.
It's like I have this massive bubble right beneath my left rib cage that is unrelenting, likely triggering my vagus nerve. Stimulating it somehow.
So that's been a point of contention for the past several days. Beep beep boop boop fast slow fast slow beep beep boop boop everything's okay then. Mostly everything's okay.
Synchronized. Syncopation. Little deviation. For the most part.
So that's what I'm contending with now. I guess it's better than the extreme pain.
Also, and in addition, I have upped my calories the past 3 days. 1200 calories each day is better than 800 calories. Right? So perhaps I won't waste away if I continue on this new mission of maximum milk of magnesia each day. And magnesium citrate. And ginger powder. And simethicone drops. Heck, managing bowels and the other internals isn't what it used to be.
Climate Change
I'm at the park right now and it's a gorgeous 76° f. I've had no interactions or engagements this morning, except having passed by a homeless girl.
Not a good scene. Hopefully this is a temporary situation for her.
Oh, the woman with the double-barreled stroller is here with her twins. They're at the playground now. She already took her jogging / walking run down the bike path and now she's returned. She seems friendly enough. Otherwise it's just dog walking people. Mostly, behind the fence. Plotting out there next poop maneuvers. Or ball fetching scenarios.
You see, yhey fling their balls with these ball flinging objects. Perhaps it's similar to highlight. High lie. Highlight the game.
NOTE: Voice-to-text is FAILING - DOUBLE UGHHH!
Okay then. Context.
It's the game where they fling the f***ing ball against the wall and it bounces around, you know, they do it in Florida, mostly Miami, you know what I mean? Highlight. Highlight halai I think I'm saying it wrong highlight….
Jai Alai!!!!
Jai alai is a sport involving bouncing your balls off the wall. Not to be confused with that '80s heavy metal anthem, "Balls to the Wall" by the German band, Accept.
—- ed-in space by accelerating it to high speeds with a hand-held wicker cesta. It is a variation of Basque Pelota. The term jai alai, coined by Serafin Bajoroja in 1875, is also often loosely applied to the fronton where matches take place in the backon.
See… I knew it was a real thing. A real real thing. According to wikipedia. And Wikipedia don't lie!
Voice-to-text Betrayal is real© too! Technological Subversiveness.
Dog Park Peoples
So yeah, they be flinging things, round, spherical objects. And them dogs be going and going, running rampant, running rapidly, affixed on fetching.
And I see each of them smoking cigarettes as they do so (the people, NOT the dogs!).
Again, this confuses me. There's no smoking allowed at the park. Which, okay, whatever. Doesn't bother me. Smoke doesn't. I have golden olden smoking people outside of my bedroom window everyday doing their smoking thing - yeah, I'm getting their second hand wafting smoke in my room constantly.
But I'm still confused as to why (psychologically) the dog park people are so motivated to smoke so many cigarettes ... while others at the park do not. Is it because their dogs are doing all the exercising so the dog owners don't have to? Or perhaps the smoke masks to poop smell.
I don't get it.
My former best friend was a chain smoking fiend and she had like three or four or five dogs at all times. None of the dogs were trained. Then again, my friend wasn't trained either, except to chainsmoke cigarettes. She was quite good at it. She could smoke in her sleep under her covers in the dead of night. And from what I hear, the dead of night is the best time to do all sorts of things related to smoking. Especially when it comes to smoking the meats.
That's what Arby's does. They cook everything overnight so you don't have to. Thank The Lord for Arby's. Potato pancakes. Yummy yummy.
By the way, there's a Little Wayne food called kugly.
Nope, that's not it.
There's a Lithuanian food called googly. Kuggaly?
Ummm … Basically it's potato pancakes. Same thing.
My mother made that for our fifth grade, food around the world celebration, in Miss Costello's class.
Yeah, that was also the same year I snuck the transistor radio into my classroom on baseball's opening day, so I could listen to the Chicago Cubs take on the New York Mets.
Of course, and despite donning a beanie cap, I got busted with an ear piece. And I didn't get busted because my teacher discovered my secret, it's because the other kids in the classroom were fools and unintentionally ratted me out.
Really, I shouldn't have told anyone what I was doing, how I was listening to the game. Yep. My fault. My bad. I think Barry Foote hit a grand slam. Or something good happened. On that day. Or maybe it didn't. I do remember it was cold and blustery. Not unusual in early April.
Holy smokes, it's a field trip full of children debarking at the park.
Debark at the Park?
Making the dogs quiet? Somehow.
Get it? Tryin' to be funny…
No Bed? No Problem
or
As the World Burns (from the inside out)
I called my case manager again, annnddd … no response. So I went to the director of whatever and she says something about me postponing my departure and I says no flippin' way and she says I ain't gonna have no bed cuz there ain't enough time (cuz they never done did nothin' when I told 'em last week abouts these things) and I say fuck it, don't care bout no bed - you know, even at there best these days, real life humans is imbeciles front an center!
Take care - hope you enjoyed the randomness,
H
Final Shots------
