Taking July off.

There are at least 2 people who read this thing regularly other than myself. Imagine this was a posting 30 days in the past.

I am taking the month of July off (except for the occasionally post about bulls and bartenders).

I will be storming back onto the blogosphere in August and all of the things in my brain that have been itching to get out will appear with much more regularity in August.

I am also curious. Is there something that you would like for me to write about. Some smarty pants might think it would be funny to get me to write about feminine hygiene products. And it might very well be funny to get me to write about such things, the actual product would be far from funny. Horrifying even.

I have missed the grind of the blog. Prepare for some Pulitzer Prize winning stuff here on the Blogolog.

And as awesome as you think you are you will never be as awesome as a dude that looks like a thumb.

When is the bartender going to arrive.

This is not me by the way.

I recently (today) went to St. Vincents for a procedure. Two nerves that run down the back of my left leg have been angry with the world since Memorial Day. I have a herniated disk at the bottom of my back. I think this block is making things feel a little better even now although it will take about 3-5 days to feel the full effect.

I had wanted to blog when they gave me the happy juice today because I would be interested what I would write stoned. Alas I never got the chance. But I will try to give you a snapshot of the most interesting part of the day.

I am in the OR (Operating room for people who don't watch ER). I have rolled onto my stomach as per instructions. Now they allowed me the dignity of keeping my tightywhiteys on (now I have answered that question for you, you're welcome). Then they pulled the shorts down a little and proceeded to wash the area.

Nurse: This is going to be a little cold OK.
Me: OK

Now if you are ever in the situation I was in earlier when a nurse says something is going to be a little cold what they really mean is they are going to pour liquid nitrogen on your back.

Now all of this is happening and no happy shot. You know the shot that allows them to do anything to you and you don't care.

Then after they wash the area they leave me there "bottoms up" so to speak and start talking about the days they have had. I listened to this for a couple of minutes then:

Me: As much fun as this is I was just wondering when the bartender is going to arrive.

Then the bartender arrived and gave me his concoction and the next thing I knew I was getting to eat cheese and crackers in the recovery room.

And I think my back is starting to feel a little better.

Kyle. Master of the Underworld.

I love Goth kids. They are so cute. Goth adults are another matter entirely. They are scary. But Goth kids are so cute its sad. I have a problem sometimes distinguishing between Goth kids and Emo kids. Emo kids relish unhappiness for the sake of unhappiness while Goth kids relish unhappiness for the sake of the dark forces of the Underworld. Which brings me to Kyle.

I don't know if this is his real name or not. I saw him at Enfuego 2 years ago (En Fuego is an outdoor Christian music event that is held in Verbena AL. It is held around the last Saturday in August. Which means heat usually. Last year a tropical storm blew through and it was cold and rainy.) Kyle couldn't have been more than 105 lbs soaking wet. He had on the large, black, baggy pants with about 80lbs of buckles and zippers complete with Frankenstien boots. His hair was blacker than a tortured night in the Abyss and pointing to every direction on the compass His glasses were standard Lens-Crafters. What topped this outfit off was the long black cape with a black fur collar. I think he was with his girlfriend who couldn't have been more than 208lbs soaking wet and what I assume was her family. Thy looked something like this:

I wonder what the conversation was like on the ride home. I am sure that Kyle and the girl's father had a lot to talk about what with Dad's interest in all things drywall and Kyle's unshakable belief that all ends in darkness.

If I hadn't been concerned with my own mortality in the intense heat I would have worried about Kyle. You could see the heat coming off him in waves. Had he asked his father Azriel why he had forsook him in his hour of need on this day Azriel would have told Kyle that it was too freaking hot to wear a cape.

PS. If you get a chance to see the "Goth Show" skits from Saturday Night Live please do. It is from the mid and late 90's. Can't find it. Darn Hulu and YouTube.

The Running of the Bull

Just read that someone died at the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona Spain. Here is where I get a little insensitive. Do you really feel sorry for the guy? I for one do not.

I have something in common with the bulls that are running in Spain. We both have a disdain for fancy men in white shirts and pants while accesorizing with a red sash. One big difference is I don't have big horns on my head and 1200 lb body to punish these fancy little people.

Who's Bad?

Since I last blogged people have been dying. Well celebrity people anyway. They usually come in threes but in the past two weeks we have had four go. I think this is the order in which they went. Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcette, Michael Jackson, and Billy Mays. (On a side note: My son Billy Knows Billy Mays. You should stroll over to Jamie’s Rabbits and see the little guest blog I put up about my son the things people try to sell him on TV. I think he would make a terrific pitch man. I think Billy Mays could sell Oxy-Clean to God don’t you?)

I could not believe that Michael Jackson died. For the past 7 or 8 years Michael Jackson has been a punch line. I had forgotten how bad he was back in the day.

The only vinyl album I ever bought was Thriller. I was able to buy it because I got money for making good grades in the fourth grade (which was the last time I got good grades across the board). To celebrate all A’s on my report card my mom took me to Showbiz Pizza in Midfield. They had the animalatronic band on the stage playing music while you ate pizza. Today Chucky Cheese may be all the rage but for me it will always be Showbiz Pizza. My favorite band member was the big, fat, and blue gorilla that played the piano. Awesome. Any way we left Showbiz and walked a few stores up to the record store and I bought Thriller with my hard earned money. I was convinced that Michael Jackson was the coolest man on the planet. And I was right.

This weekend I have been able to watch a lot of TV and I keep going to VH1. They are showing a lot of tributes to the King of Pop. Kara and I were watching the video to Billy Jean. Kara mentioned the outfit he was wearing. Pink shirt with a pink bow tie and black leather pants and jacket that were too short. She commented how ridiculous that get up was. I agreed and then we both agreed that it was cool. It is still cool.

For the past 7 or 8 years we have forgotten just how talented Michael Jackson was. This past season of American Idol featured songs from the Michael Jackson songbook. Those songs are still awesome.

So here’s to you Michael Jackson.
The age old question has had an answer for some time now.

Who’s bad?
You are Michael Jackson.
You are.