Sunday, October 28, 2007

For all you Halloweenies out there . . .

There's a site that allows you to carve a pumpkin right on your very own computer screen - no messy pumpkin guts scooping or burnt pumpkin seeds because you forgot about them when "It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown" came on TV required! Yes, it's one more thing to distract me from real life. Some would say, why play bowling on your Wii when you can bowl at an actual bowling alley? and I would say,

"I don't own a Wii."

You can visit the site here. If any of you feel like you have a masterpiece, print screen and post it in the comments.

Here's my contribution to the Art-O-Lantern fracas.

I call him "Cool Guy McPumpkin." See how happy he is to eat . . . I mean meet you?

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Your Humble Narrator Got a Boo Boo.

Really, I'm somewhat incredulous about the whole thing. Nonplussed? Perplexed? Perhaps. It all began on Tuesday. I was jazzed about our first D-League softball game. See, the Legion of Doom graduated from our tenure in the E-League to the more-competitive, less forgiving D-League. Honestly, I can't imagine what the A-League must be like.
Anyway, I was rarin' to go. I'd prepped and stretched and warmed up, I visited the batting cages and swatted a few balls to the moon - well, not exactly - I swatted a few balls REALLY HARD into the net at the back of the cage. Felt good. Felt strong. Felt comfortable. Felt relaxed.

I wanted to win in our debut.

Our opponents, the Lockouts, were recently demoted from the C-League so they came ready to prove that there must have been some sort of gross scheduling error and they still deserved to be in the C-League. Interesting thing about the lockouts, they have a sponsor. He happens to be a locksmith. What he gets out of it for his investment, I have no idea.

Anyway, as the we warmed up for the game, we played a little infield. I stopped some balls from getting past me, made good throws . . . why, I could play any position! I'll do well tonight.

Or so I thought.

In the last few minutes of warm-ups, the outfielders gathered to catch a few fly balls hit by Eric. I was feeling good, so I wasn't trying too hard for very many. However, there was one that was hit to me that I couldn't deny. I made an attempt at it somewhat belatedly and came up just shy of the catch.

And I mean, just shy. The ball missed my glove by a millimeter and smacked into my toe. Yes, my big toe. I lunged forward in an effort to make the catch so my foot was way out in front of me. The ball, arching toward the ground as balls do, hit me in the toe and went flying off to who knows where.

I howled and hopped, but I was convinced that I would be ok after the initial pain subsided. No go. It continued to hurt and swell. Couldn't play in the field, but I batted anyway. I'd hobble to first and then get a pinch runner. The toe continued to ache. Probably a bad idea. I took my shoe off to take a look at the damage. The nail was black and the toe was red. Hmm. Guess I'll lose the nail. No big deal. Should feel fine in a couple days.

Last night, the ol' toe blew up like an overstuffed sausage and hurt at about a 6 on the pain o' meter you see hanging on the wall at the doctor's office. Odd. I decided at that point to go to the doctor if there was no improvement today.

I woke up and the toe felt pretty good. Ok. Should be fine then. But as the day wore on, it felt worse and worse. Finally, I took my shoe off to take a look at it. My bosses asked to see it and said, "You need to go to the doctor right now." Ok ok ok. I'm going.

Got to Urgent Care. They were able to see me almost right away. Doc took one look at my toe and said,
"Well, that definitely needs to be drained."
My face dropped. "Really?" I said. "Isn't the blood dry by now?" "Not likely," he replied as he walked back into the room carrying what appeared to be a travel canister for a toothbrush.

"You gonna drill?" I asked, trying to sound as manly and disinterested as I could.
"With this?" he said as he removed the cap. "Naw, this burns red hot, see?" He flicked a switch on the side of the case and a small element at the tip lit with a sudden, angry glow.
"Oh, great," I choked. "Does it hurt?" I felt like I was five years old.
"Only if I hit anything other than the toe," he replied lightly.
"Jiminy Christmas," I breathed.
He laughed and said, "Why don't you just lay back? This'll be over in a second."
"You're sure it doesn't hurt?"
"You'll be fine."
"Try to relax now."
My leg was as rigid as possum in a meat locker. I did my best to relax, but my body rebelled. Just. Get. It. Over. With. And . . .
He daubed my toe with some gauze. "All done."
"All done."
"But I didn't feel anything!"
"I must have done a good job then."
"I guess so."

We discussed my toe. It should have been feeling better with the pressure off, but I still couldn't bend it without pain. It needed X-Rays. As the blood drained from my nail, he left the room to fetch the X-Ray tech. I heard him telling some nurses about my "Jiminy Christmas" exclamation and laughing. "How cute!" someone said.

I felt like I was five AND a wuss. Thanks doc. Guess it's my own fault, but still, that's harsh.

The X-Ray tech came in shortly after and pointed me into the room with the machinery et al.

"In here?" I asked.
"Yes yes, please go in," he said.
This is why I was skeptical.

I got my foot x-rayed in, what appears to be, the file cabinet. And no, that blue item isn't a fashionable silk cravat; it is, in fact, a lead-filled thyroid shield. He couldn't get my toe to lay down on the film so I sat up and hunched next to the machine to get my foot flat for the image. Always a pleasant feeling, covering up your sensitive bits with lead and leaning toward a machine that buzzes and clicks and spews invisible death rays. A real treat.

After that, we discovered that the bone is broken. The tip is chipped. No fractures, no severing, no surgery required. Just a clean chip which my body will eventually absorb. In the meantime, I have a sore toe, I'm on antibiotics and I won't be running or playing any softball any time soon.

Does this mean more time for blogging? I know that I hope so.

Now playing: Wax Tailor - Am I Free
via FoxyTunes

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Disturbing Trends

I've noticed a disturbing trend in the blog-o-sphere. Perhaps it's that Halloween is drawing nigh. Perhaps it's because the weather is changing and it's making people act squirrelly. Whatever the case may be, the bloggers are showing us "See Food."

Link This is Steve from demonstrating to his faithful readers that he did indeed eat the tree brain! We were, of course, thrilled to hear that he would be eating the tree brain. After all, there have been rumors circulating about that it's edible. Experts writing in, mysterious strangers sneaking tastes from the brain and then the brain "happens" to disappear the next day - intrigue! The entire brain timeline is here. Well, he ate it, and to prove it, he posted the intimate, semi-gruesome pics of his stubbly, masticating maw. I have to admit, I was a bit put out by the photo above, but whatevs! It's all part of the schtick, right? Surely, I won't be subjected to this on a daily basis.

But then today, as I perused another favorite site, I stumbled upon this . . .
Roger Barr, the webmaster of, presents his bestubbled pie hole to the world, candy tattoos emblazoned on his tastebuds. (The entire Halloween candy review can be found here.) Again gruesome.

What in the name of Google is going on here?! Unshaven Gen Y blog ninjas are snapping photos of their befooded tongues and posting them on the internet, that's what, and I'll be consarned if I let them start an internet trend without me.

Here I am demonstrating what happens after you enjoy a starlight mint for ten minutes. Aren't you thrilled at the close-up, intimate portrait of a twenty-something and his culinary adventures? Yeah, I thought so.

Now playing: Carly Simon - You're So Vain
via FoxyTunes

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Mixed Messages

I really don't know what to make of this. The "Kids Funtown NAPA AutoCare Center" in Montrose, CA. Really, who thought this signage combo was a good idea?

The mind could stretch to the possibility of a NAPA AutoCare Center WITH a Kids Funtown attached - gotta keep the kids occupied whilst getting the struts restrutted, and there's only so many times Junior can leaf through "4x4 Aficionado" before he becomes mutinously bored. Send him to the NAPA Funtown Kids AutoCare Center Happytime Park and Bagel Bakery! There he can put together 70 of the pieces that still exist from the 500 piece jigsaw puzzle or move around the multicolored beads on the much-sneezed-upon activity center that rests in the middle of the room on the foam-rubber KidMats. Now that's a Funtown. In all honesty, though, I never understood those activity centers. I remember being very young and asking myself, "Now what am I supposed to do with this thing exactly? I don't want to follow the prescribed path for these beads." Ok, so I didn't use the word "prescribed" in my 2-year-old internal monologue, so sue me. Nevertheless, I had no interest in moving wooden shapes on a thick, crayola-colored wire - back and forth, back and forth - with no freedom of movement, and no payoff. Inevitably, I would be shifted from my tenuous attention to the activity c. by some largish, 3-yr-old devotee who was thrilled as a tick at the Westminster Dog Show to be sliding beads on a wire. No thanks.
One of those things resides in the waiting room of my "favorite" Pep Boys mechanic; I usually end up casting sidelong glances at it while I sit in the waiting room. I still don't get it. Why is it such a ubiquitous item in the most miserable of places? - doctor's offices, mechanics, & pathetic, paperback-strewn public libraries.

Now playing: David Bowie - Starman
via FoxyTunes