10 posts tagged “sick”
I'm still sick. Cough came back. Not as bad, but it did.
Also, I have pinkeye, 'cause my dad had pinkeye. He's the kinda dude who'll get some weird eye disease, poke at it all day, and never wash his hands. Fucking gross. That's probably how I got it.
Also, I have no appetite.
Also, I'm hopelessly bored, but too sick to actually feel like doing anything about it.
Walked over to the doc-in-the-box yesterday, and then played Civilization III 'til I got tired.
Everyone I know has this bug. One of them said it lasted about a month. I just can't wait for it to pass.
Anyway, my lunch is ready, so I'm going to stop typing and try to eat.
And found a pretty bitchin' blog I thought I'd share.
It's basically a pile of furniture people will have no idea why they bought twenty years from now.
But hey! Some of it is pretty cool in that silly "Jetsons" sorta way!
Oh, and I'd also like to introduce you to two of my favorite complete nutjobs. Why do I get the feeling that the first of those two was somehow the basis for Adam West's character on Family Guy?
In other news, I have to go to the dentist today. Which is why I'm up at what, for me, amounts to the asscrack of dawn (10:30 AM; I usually wake up at 2 in the afternoon and go to bed at 5-7 in the morning). I have a really gnarly phobia of dentists, but for some reason, my mom insists on continuing to make appointments for me to go see them. I'm almost certain I have a cavity on one of my back teeth, and getting fillings is one of the least pleasant things I can think of (besides a root canal), just because it involves having someone stick needles in my mouth (needles are the one reason I could never do smack; I fucking hate them, especially when dentists are involved).
Also, I've got a nasty cough. I think I've been smoking too much, lately. Should probably lay off that for a few days. I think I've also got a cold.
Oh yeah, I fell asleep propped up in a terrible position for sleeping, and now my stomach feels like shit from a bunch of mucous draining down my throat! Hot diggity!
But today will be an alright day, I think. It's really nice out, at least.
Oh, one last thing. I did a write-up of Nation of Ulysses over at W♥M, so if you don't read that regularly, you might want to check that out.
So what that means: I'll probably lay off certain substances I occasionally use, maybe I'll stop drinking for a while, and if it gets any worse, I might see a doctor about it (although I'm uninsured, so I really don't want to go that far if I can avoid it).
Of course, it's equally likely that the infection-y thing in my mouth and the actual sickness are unrelated. But whatever. I just hope I get over it fast.
Spent most of yesterday nursing a nasty stomach bug.
I think I'm better now, but that's still my excuse for how mean-spirited and bitchy I'm going to be in this entry.
I think it's Christmas Eve today. Why yes, yes, it is.
In fewer than 48 hours, Christmas will can be over, and I'll be able to go out without having to hear any shitty Christmas songs.
I was in a Hastings the other day with my mom, and they were busting out awful "pop-punk" covers of "Deck the Halls" (complete with an intro that sounded like they ripped it from an Offspring song. Disgusting.) and "We Wish You a Merry Christmas." Is this what you stupid fucking Christcore kids are diggin' on these days? 'Cause if it is, I would like to kindly invite you all to slam a cock and die. Or, at least, to just quit making music and go be accountants or something. CCM is an insult to music, to rock 'n' roll, and to recorded audio in general. Nothing good has ever come from it, and if you actually like "Christian rock," you're a piece of shit. End of story.
And even if the band in question wasn't a Christian band, they're still playing "ironic" pop-punk covers. Which is also the mark of music by pieces of shit, for pieces of shit. Goldfinger fucking sucked the first time. We don't need more of them.
This sort of thing wouldn't bother me so much if it wasn't inescapable by any means other than spending the two months-ish between Halloween and Christmas as a shut-in. But, unfortunately, I kinda have to leave the house every now and then, and Christmas fills me with blinding rage, which may just be because large crowds of people (hell, I have trouble being around more than like 2 people at a time, even if I like them), yuppies, and cold weather are some of my least favorite things possible.
I do like presents, though.
Feel kinda shitty. Lips chapped, lungs full of other peoples' smoke from both second-hand smoke and the goddamn inversion, stomach pissed off, head sore, sinuses stuffed. The worst part of that, oddly enough, is the chapped lips. I'd stop licking them but it's just reflex at this point. I put some chapstick on it last night and it just burned like a motherfucker. I like to think that burn means it's healing, but I really doubt that's true.
Kinda bummed the show last night got shut down. It was in an outdoor garage, though, and it was full of drunken 15 year olds, so I'm really not surprised. Apparently it was someone's 16th birthday party, but then a bunch of older kids (totally unaware of this fact, and myself included) showed up with the bands.
The bands were good, though. The Donna Vulture played. And Late Night Curly from Portland was pretty awesome. Kind of a weird, mathy thing. That seems to be "the thing," now, and I'm not sure how I feel about it, but at least it takes some degree of skill to play. Then Palm Reader played and the show got shut down halfway into their set.
Here's some pictures from the last few days.
So today, I've found myself peeing orange and just feeling all-'round shitty. Happens every year, at least once. And, well, it sucks. But a cup of tea and a banana made me feel quite a bit better.
Oh, and my sleep habits are fucked again. Lame.
Also, I treated myself to an early "Christmas present." I remember when I was a kid, and all my friends used to give me shit for preferring turn-based strategy to real time. So the typical conversation with them when I was around 12 years old was "Why do you play Civilization? Command and Conquer is way better!" to which I would respond something along the lines of "Eat dogshit, fucker." I was an eloquent kid. I think that's why I liked South Park so much when it first dropped a couple years later: because it was a show about kids who were just like me.
Well anyway, back to the point. Yesterday I was at Hastings exchanging a calendar my mom bought for me and had me exchange after realizing I don't ever use a calendar, and besides, didn't much care for the subject of the calendar (that being George Carlin, who I'm not really a fan of, even though I kinda feel like I should be). Well, since my mom paid with a check, they would only give me a gift card back (by the way, Hastings probably has one of the worst return policies on Earth). So I'm browsing around the computer games (despite the fact that they all cost well over $12, reminding me why I don't play video games very often anymore), and I notice that they put out all the old Civilization games in a box set! So I picked it up and spent all last night playing Civ 1 and slaughtering the French and Zulu infidels for Mother Russia!
And to be honest, I still haven't even touched Civ 3 or 4. I'm looking forward to giving 'em a whirl. I hear Civ 4 is a hell of a lot different than all the other games in the series, but in a good way, so I'm looking forward to playing that, too.
One thing that should've been cut, though: was a card game that I'll never play really necessary? I don't really think so. But as someone who lost his Civ 1 and 2 CD's, and is new to 3 and 4, and is always hankerin' for nostalgia and classic gameplay, I'd say it was well worth the rather insane price tag of $70, which isn't so bad when you remember that SNES games used to occasionally go for upwards of that (I recall paying around $80 for my copy of Chrono Trigger, back in the day).
Lately, I've been feeling a bit shitty. Like that kinda shitty you start to feel when the heat is getting unbearable, and your diet is thinning out to a pot of beans or something every day, and you're consuming more alcohol than food. So yeah, that caught up with me, but I'm starting to feel a bit better. I think I accidentally ate some cheese or dairy at some point today. I really don't know, actually, but for some reason, my stomach hurts in the same way it would if I did.
Then there's the sexual frustration. Let's actually not go too far into that, but let's just say the past two days have been among the least productive days of my life.
On the plus side, I was able to go out for a few beers with Dave and Justin the other day. Here's what that looked like:
Justin drinks like a frat boy. It's rather amusing. He and Dave cannot hold their booze at all. We got a six-pack of Weinhard's Private Reserve - which basically amounts to the watery, domestic equivalent of what's supposed to be a "pilsner" - after I refused to pay money for anything with "Light," or worse, "Lite," in its name. Not totally awful, but I was hoping we'd spring for better, since we were splitting the cost three ways and all. So I spent the entire night completely sober. They both had a pretty good buzz going after two bottles of that stuff, which has barely more alcohol by volume (4.8% abv) than Pabst Blue Ribbon (4.65% abv). Hilarious. Even funnier was when Justin insisted that the alcohol content by volume was at least 6%, which resulted in me telling him he's full of shit, which resulted in him scouring the bottles and packaging to try and prove me wrong. Eventually we ended up being accosted by a rather frightening lesbian ex-junkie who ended up hanging out with us because she couldn't remember who she'd come downtown with. When we finally left the spot where we were sitting, luckily, the guy she was with showed up. He looked rather disappointed that she was still there.
Also, the band is finally getting its shit together. We're looking for a drummer right now. We also changed our name, just 'cause we don't sound much like a band that would be all about meth-fueled ass-orgies, so much as the sort of band that would be all about acid-fueled triple penetrations. So Sodomy in the Streets is now Mystick Crystal Revelations, or "The Good MCR" for short. Yeah, we changed the MySpace URL, too, so you can find it here, now. There's new songs! I might post 'em here later, but I really don't feel like it right now. So they'll probably be actual, finished, songs by the time you see them on here.
Well, the inevitable has happened, this fine Naked Week! I'm about to die of exposure!
Seriously, though, I think I'm getting sick. It's that kinda cold that, no matter how many layers of anything you put on yourself, refuses to go away.
I think I'm gonna go get myself some coffee, feed the pets, and crash. Hard.
But it's been a nice week. My sister's cat, Frank, is a little shit. Her cat, Izzy, isn't quite as bad, but is still a food hog. I have to pry her and Frank away from the food bowl when I feed them to ensure that they leave some for my cat, Moo Moo, who is significantly less assertive.
My neighbors haven't called the cops about me lounging about in the nude in my backyard or anything (which is surprising because half of 'em are Mormons, but not so surprising considering I typically put some clothes on if I was out before like midnight).
If you haven't yet subjected your poor, undernourished ears the vicious noise jam produced by Erik and myself, you totally should. It'll take to your nuts like a wolverine in heat. If you're female, it'll make you grow some nuts and take the them like a wolverine in heat. We are equal-opportunity nut-laceraters. Check out me trying to figure out that riff from "Paranoid," and, after getting the general idea, putting the guitar back down and rubbing a screwdriver across strings some more (I also screamed into my pickups sometimes).
So this overly lengthy bulletin marks the end of Naked Week, which will now be followed by some small chores (goddamn, I'm glad I mowed the lawn and vacuumed the rugs yesterday).
Oh, and Nike dropped animal-abusing cum dumpster, Michael Vick as an endorser. Fuck yeah. Today I was having a private fantasy about chopping his dick off and shitting in the hole. But it's not so private anymore. Oh well.
Oh, and speaking of cum, I watched a Girls Gone Wild video tonight, and I didn't. It's that bad.
(It should be noted that I can even cum while I watch their infomercials. The videos themselves, though, despite how cute some of the girls are, are boring. They build up every girl a lot, and then once they get her naked, she decides she doesn't actually want to do anything besides get naked, maybe masturbate, maybe almost do some girl-girl but puss out at the last second. Basically shit they do for all the other annoying dork that make up their circle of friends, and act exactly like the dude in the video. Barely PG-13, and I even had trouble getting my cock up for it.)
Ever notice that the most degrading insults are the ones that don't include worn out words like "fuck" or "shit" or any of the other words that people think of right off the bat when they think of offensive words? "Cum dumpster" is probably my favorite, and it probably even led up to one of the grosses entries I've ever posted (this one).
Oh, and my parents are coming home today. So no meth-fueled bukkake (this is another word that has lost a good deal of its offensiveness, if only because only internet addicts know what it means, and just sort of regard it like they do Goatse or Tubgirl) orgy at my house tonight, but it was fun while it lasted. I hope they bring me a flask or a sweet beer glass, or that they just stopped off at that sweet record shop by my aunt and uncle's house for me (sorry I couldn't be there but in spirit, Lou).
I make really strange posts when I'm tired. I probably shouldn't get my 'net on when I've got the sleep madness.
Today was kinda shitty, actually.
I get woke up at 9 AM. The police are at the door, looking for me, trying to connect me with some kid's dry ice bombing joyride. Apparently, whoever got their mailbox blown up decided to go look for the person who did it. And, of course, he's totally sure it was me. So here's where I totally overthink this whole thing and ramble on, proving my already more-or-less established innocence. There may also be a paragraph at the end about food.
Okay, I've been in a situation a lot like this one before. A couple years ago, my sister's car was broken into. I actually watched the guy do it. I sat there trying to figure out both what the guy looked like, and what they were driving. My window has a pretty clear view of the street, but honestly, I couldn't even tell you anything but that it was a light colored, 80's model pickup truck, and there were two white guys, one about medium height with a beard, in it that kicked out the windshield the first time they drove by, even right after it happened. As for the license plate, it was even lit, and I couldn't make it out.
So apparently this guy who reported me, watching from some place that was, more likely than not, indoors and out of sight, saw a nondescript dude (the cop told me the guy saw me there, whatever that means, presumably to try to scare me into talking) in a white 90's-model Cavalier (perhaps the most generic-looking car on Earth) with specifically my license plate number blow up his mailbox. Smell a little like bullshit?
It's definitely rather interesting, considering that, not only did my car not budge an inch since yesterday afternoon, but I was actually right here in my house all last night, talking on IM's, jacking off, listening to records, playing video games, and pretty much just doing a bunch of stuff that didn't involve blowing up mailboxes in the slightest.
So the cops try their "scare tactics." The whole "you've got two strikes against you already, one more and we're arresting you" bullshit. I let them look through my car, where, of course, they found precisely jack shit. The younger cop told me he didn't want to look like an idiot if the soda bottle came back from the crime lab with my prints on it. A rather amusing statement, considering my prints aren't even on file, and also considering that the odds of a case like this being taken very seriously, or even being looked into by the "crime lab" when they're so busy with their summer meth busts and a few pretty big murder cases is next to nothing.
So eventually they decided that I probably didn't do it, and decided to leave, saying they'd "follow up." I'm betting they won't, but then again, I really wouldn't put it past them to waste even more of my time, if they don't find someone else.
After that whole thing, I went back to sleep, being pretty tired and all. Then I woke up and realized I had absolutely nothing to eat. So on a totally empty stomach, I went over to the Co-op and got a huge pile of food. I came back, ate some, and started feeling a bit sick from the heat (it was about 103 degrees out, today). So I pretty much spent a good chunk of the rest of the day drinking until I was too tired to notice the throbbing in my head and my bloated-ass gut anymore. And now, it's time for sleep.
The other day, Dave and I hung out. We went and got coffee, then we walked around downtown a bit. We ran into my friend, Chris, from high school. I've been seeing him around quite a bit, lately. He's still friends with a guy I really hated in high school. No hard feelings anymore, but I really doubt I'd get along very well with someone like him, even now. Rob, Lindsay, Hector, and a couple other homies kept rolling by and yelling at us. It was really funny, but I still have no idea what they were on about.
Then, Dave and I went for some beer. We had a couple pitchers of Sierra Nevada over at Mulligan's. Got nice and sloshed. I took him up to clocktower, but he was afraid to go up there. I gave him a condescending speech about overcoming your fears, and then I went and checked it out, anyway. Some people were already there, and, of course, I knew them. Erik was up there with his friend, Lance, whom I'd met once before, but didn't remember at all. We were all pretty tipsy. We hung out for a bit. Lance rolled, then Erik had some beers with us on one of the lower floors of the parking garage.
Then we hung out for a while, sobered up a bit, and then went back to my house (hitting Del Taco on the way), and attempted to watch a movie. Dave was too tired to stick around by the middle of it. Erik passed out halfway through, and I gave him a ride home once he was awake. I went to bed shortly after. It was about 4:30 a.m. I slept 'til about 9:30 in the morning. I went out to lunch with my mom, and had a really bad allergic reaction to something. I came home, took an antihistamine, which made me really drowsy, and I passed out 'til about 11:15 p.m. Being so late, I just got a drink of water, took a piss, and went back to bed.
And now, here I am.
Congrats to Rev Stan for getting her QotD chosen! Vox homies had better answer that one! It was a couple days ago, but obviously, I wasn't awake enough or present enough to mention it!
