I don't like overcast days as much as I used to

It's true. For a guy that spent some of the prime years of his life selling vacuum cleaners for Jebus in Northern England you'd think that my love for the gray day would never wain. Well, it has. I require upliftment more in my life now than ever. Being right smack dab in darkest winter here in my beloved home has been wearing on me. I was born in Phoenix. I am freaking solar powered. I need the sun.

Not too long ago I could go through a bleak winter scape while listening to Sisters of Mercy and be unaffected. In fact, I dug the inner nihilist within. Something has changed. It wasn't an effort on my part at all. My battle for my life altered who I am. I didn't ask for the changes, but they happened anyway. I'm not saying that it is good or bad, just different.

I'm not sure what I want now that things have shifted. Where life will take me next is a mystery.

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Ricola!

Ricola enables men wearing funny shorts to blow big horns and yodel. Ricola is also my favorite lozenge and I'm sucking on one now. That's TIGF!!!
All together now: Riiiiiiiiiiicooooooooolaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!
P.S. If you haven't read my blog in the past while please read the previous post. Something really good happened to me and I would like you to know about it.

A True Christmas Story

I want to tell you all about something that happened to me on Christmas Eve. I was watching one of the older film versions of Dickens's "A Christmas Carol" with my sister. Around the end of the film I joked to my sister that I was like Tiny Tim and that Scrooge owed me. It was about ten minutes later that a knock at the door interrupted our movie.

There was a young girl at the door. I did not know who she was. She asked if I were who I am and I said "yes". It was at that point that she unveiled a jar full of money and gave it to me. She then said that the party responsible for the gift wished to remain anonymous.

I did not know how to respond. I was truly overwhelmed by this gift. I have been stretched thin financially due to my medical bills and missed work. This money was a godsend. I started expressing my gratitude to her while fighting off tears. It was obvious that she was moved as well. She gave this reply to me, "Just know that there are people out there who care very much for you." I guess so.

I haven't counted the money yet. It still seems unreal to me at the moment. I am forever grateful to whoever is responsible for this act of pure charity towards me. It won't matter how much it turns out to be. The act alone was the greatest gift. I am humbled.

Christmas Adam

That is the second day before Christmas. A-har-har!

So, what is Santa going to bring you all for Christmas this year? I'm not sure what I'm getting but hopefully I will be getting better. Actually, I have improved a bit since my last post, health wise. I'm still coughing all the time but I am less congested.

Today (Monday) marks my last nuepogen injection. My doctor felt that it was unnecessary after my last chemo to go through the round of five injections since there is not another treatment to get my blood counts up for. I won't miss the horrible bone pain or flu-like symptoms that those injections gave me. I am grateful, though, for the fact that the shots kept my white blood cells at a level where I could continue treatment.

It blows my mind at the tens of thousands of dollars that all of my treatments have cost. There's no way around the expense of cancer treatment like this. While I have had problems with bills and insurance I am indeed grateful that the bulk of the expenses have been covered. That does not mean that my bills have been light. I get into a panic every time the mail comes. I will make it through the financial stuff, eventually.

Right now I just want to have a Merry Christmas and feel better. I think that is not such an unreasonable request.

Wish I were feeling better

I've got a sinus cold. It really sucks to have this on top of all the other nastiness that just having chemo brings. I was in for my nuepogen injection today and consulted the head nurse about my condition. She said that as long as I'm not running a fever that I just need to take care of myself like a normal cold. If I do get a fever I have to go straight to the ER. Right now I just feel as though someone has shot a bunch of warm jello up into my sinuses. I cough a bit here and there as well. Loads of fun, I tells ya.

Anyway, sorry about no TIGF!!! I just have not been feeling in any kind of silly mood to do that sort of thing. I need prayers and anything that you feel will bring me some healing sent my way--thoughts, and etc. I get worried that somehow I won't get over a silly cold like this. When something major is going on and then you get hit with one more thing it tends to topple you some.

I can't wait until I am through with this stuff.

I made it through my 11th chemo

I wasn't feeling good this morning but I pulled through and the doctors gave me the go ahead for treatment. I feel real weird right now, but it feels good to know that I only have one more left.

I hate days where all my body can do is lay around. You start to get real tripped out. Tonight I'm a bit edgy and yet I'm too tired to do anything about it. This bugs me to no end. Anyway, I made it through the day. I thought you all would want to know.

Sitting around trying to get better

I've got a bit of a cold. I don't know what will happen tomorrow (read Wednesday) if my doctors will postpone my treatment. I don't even have a sore throat or a temperature. I had a cough and now just some congestion in my throat area. There is nothing wrong with my lungs.

I am now paranoid that this will delay my treatment. I didn't want this. I just want to get done for crying out loud. I feel like I am getting better, but who knows what the doctors will say. It's a bit touch and go with this stuff. Wish me luck.

Rectum? Damn near killed him!

I wish I were in a jokey mood right now. The title is the only one I could come up with, and that is a joke that has to be spoken in order to be funny.

I'm tired of being in pain, feeling lonely, and tired of being tired. I'm worn out. Treatment number eleven is this Wednesday. I'm going through mixed emotions about it. I'm glad that I am getting closer to the end, but I am so tired of dealing with all the nasty side effects of the chemotherapy and nuepogen injections. I am looking forward to the Holidays.

I know I just need to keep my chin up. It's just that I am really feeling it right now and it's taking its toll on me. I've come to far to give up. Cliche, I know, but it's true.

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Rudolph the Reindeer's red nose

Proof that Rudolph's red nose was its own entity: Rudolph was straight; the nose was gay. Seen here is a prime example of this dichotomy in action. The nose is hitting on this "hot" man elf. I think the nose is saying, "So, what kind of reindeer games do you play?" This gets Rudolph in a lot of sticky situations, as you could imagine. I mean, I don't even know, or want to know, how a gay, glowing red nose has intercourse.

This is the real reason Rudolph wasn't accepted by the other reindeer, those gay nose bashers. It wasn't until Santa discovered how fabulous that glowing gay disco nose was in the fog that Rudolph finally got a break. It turns out that the nose was not only fabulous, but functional. That my friends is way TIGF!!!

Patience

I've apparently not learned this enough. I can't wait to be done with my treatments. I want to change some things in my life, but I need to wait a bit until I take on those challenges. My health comes first. Still, it is incredibly frustrating. From when I started having noticeable health trouble, till now, it has been about nine months. I thought this was my year where things would change. They have, but not in any way I could have imagined.

I don't know where I'm going from here, but I'm alive. Thank you medical science. Thank you God.

Big winds make for strange dreams

Last night the East winds kicked up through the canyons. These winds have been known to blow freight trains off the tracks and roll steel towers into balls. While last night's winds did not get past 80 mph, the snow drifts left over made my little world feel a bit arctic. I'm also quite tired.

It's really hard to fall asleep over constant wooshing and banging, and then there was the wind (a-har-har). When I did finally get to sleep the first time I had a really creepy dream. In this dream there was a demonic force in my room that kept grabbing me by my feet and raising them. Sometimes I'd be lifted clean up and dangling from my ceiling. I don't think I need to tell you the fright that I had while trying to figure out if this was real or dream. I did finally wake up and figured out that the wind was the "demonic" force that had been terrorizing me.

The next dream of the night, care of the wind, was a scenario where I was married to Andie Mac Dowell (I don't care how old she is, she's still smokin'). She and I had a little family and we were moving into a new house together. This is where a psycho moving van dude comes into play. This freak comes roaring down the street, turns into the driveway and drives straight through the damn house. As he is turning around for more, I grab a huge rock and huck it through the windshield of the moving van. This only pisses the guy off even more and now he's chasing me down "Maximum Overdrive" style. I manage to make it back inside the house and I try to call 911, but none of the effin' phones work. All this time the moving van keeps plowing through the house trying to kill me. The best part of this dream is that when the cops finally show up there is no damage to the house and I get arrested for assault because I threw a rock at the guy.

I never knew that the wind could drive my subconscious so.

Big 500

The pressure is on. This is my 500th post. I think maybe I should have ordered some pizza for all of you guys, ooh, and some Dew.

I'm not sure what to post about on this momentous occasion. Maybe I will talk about my dreams of becoming an astronaut. Yeah, I will be the first dude to set up shop on Mars and I will sell Indian rugs and pottery there.

No, something tells me that I should talk about my dreams of meeting Evel Knievel some day. Oh yeah, he's dead. I can still visit his grave and tell his alcoholic son Robbie that he sucks compared to his dad.

I watched the trailer for the new Rambo movie that is coming out. Laughed my ass the whole way through. I can't wait for its release.

I was dragged to see "The Golden Compass" the other day. I think I understood one thing: Hollywood sucks. I did, however, wonder what kind of animal demon I'd have by my side: an aardvark. No one else would have that shit. They'd be all hogging birds, cougars, and other noble or cool stuff. I figure that my aardvark demon wouldn't really interfere much with my life. Plus, I'd never have ant infestations ever again.

I bumped into a girl that I really used to like today. I really used to like her, not just today. Anyway, there was some obvious catching up to do since I look like the post crack-up version of Bob Geldof from the movie "Pink Floyd's The Wall". At least he still kept the hair on his head. Oh, and my hairless nips did not get harmed from a straight razor, just plain old chemo. My story continues: She's married now and still pretty as ever. Something told me that not all was well in matrimony land, but that is her deal. She felt bad for what I've gone through, but happy to see that I'm giving a good fight. I think we both played a bit of "what if" in our heads, then we went on with our lives. Life is funny.

I think that is a suitable ending for my big 500th. Good day.

Bibble Bibble

Nothing to see here. Just a bunch of aimless typing. Carry on about your business. What, you still reading this? Well, I can't help it if you are bored. I guess I'm a bit bored myself. That, and a bit starved for attention. I could have something meaningful to write about but I don't, so there.

What's the deal? I got one useless paragraph written and now I'm starting a second? Oh boy, I must be in need of something to do. This is the problem when I don't take my meds. I'm a bit jittery tonight. I tried and failed at watching "Animal House". You know things are bad when that doesn't work. My guitar just laughs at my fingers. It says, "Come play me if you dare. I'll give those sodding fingers some blisters if you come near me!" Really, my fingers are a bit sensitive lately. Watch what you say around them.

Speaking of fingers, or rather, nails, the index and middle fingernails on my left hand have been curving down in a way that reminds me of a cadaver I once saw. That is a rather morbid observation, if you ask me. I think I will trim them. I have an idea, though, as to why they have been doing this. I have been pressing them into my palm as a way to relieve stress. I've been doing a lot of strange stuff like that lately. Have you any idea the strange looks I get from slapping my ass with my feet? That takes talent, by the way.

I am a bit stressed out about Christmas this year. My money is pretty much tied up in bills and I'm still not feeling like Bruce Jenner, Carl Lewis, or Gary Coleman lately. Maybe I feel a bit like Marty Wilson from down the street. Yes, I think that is how I'm feeling right now.

Well, I'm nearing the end of this bit 'o' bibble bibble. I wonder how many goats, dogs, swallows, and other creatures of the earth have wondered if life is worth living. I have and the answer is probably yes. Anyway, have a wonderful morning/day/evening and try the turducken. It's moist!

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Mojitos

Anything that was big in the '80s and makes a comeback is TIGF!!! I'm not a drinker, but I have heard enough buzz about the mojito to go ahead and declare it TIGF!!!

What's even more TIGF!!! is to keep repeating it in an exaggerated pronunciation (moxito) to people in order to impress them with your knowledge of mixed rum based drinks. Oh yeah, and it is minty too.

NOFL

I was walking by a window display today and saw "NOFL". I sat there for a few minutes asking myself "what in the hell is NOFL?" It was pretty funny when I realized that I was looking at an "E" and not an "F" like I had thought.

You've heard of gypsy's curses, right? Well, I am here to tell you that hobo curses are just as real. I was downtown today and a hobo started walking across the road right after my light turned green. We all had to wait at our green light for this hobo to cross the damn road. I yelled out the window at the hobo and called him a stupid jerk. This is when he glared at me and set a curse upon my head. After that I hit ten red lights in a row. Stupid hobo jerk.

I've come up with the cleaning product of the future: Soylent Clean. It uses the cleaning power of people. (I can't get enough of "Soylent Green" related humor).

Okay, you've got three funny paragraphs. This is where I tell you how much I love and appreciate you guys and gals. My life has been pretty bleak in spots recently. When I find your comments to my posts in the morning it is like finding gifts laid out before me. I go in for big #10 tomorrow (or today, when most will read this). That's 10 out of 12 chemo treatments. It has been getting progressively tougher. But I know that I will get through it. I don't know what life will throw at me next, but I'm hoping that it will be something good.

Everything's Satisfactual

What to post about? My dream about being the blog world's Uncle Remus? Nah. Maybe I will post about some real life stuff.

I am in a lot of pain at the moment. Since Thursday I've been experiencing bone pain, a full body rash, a pulled groin, and a dead right arm (not from masturbating). The bone pain went away mid Friday. The rash is now only around my torso. My right arm and groin still hurt like a mofo. I went bowling with a group and I got way too into it, trying to spin 16 pound balls down the lane like a pro. I suck big time but I have fun. It was just too much for me in my condition to go at it like I did.

I look in the mirror and see how much my body has suffered from this battle. Where once were firm muscles are loose lumps. My best friend and I spent the day together on Saturday. He was telling me about Lance Armstrong's threshold for pain being much greater after having battled cancer, to which Lance and others attribute his dominance in cycling. My friend then wondered if the same would be true for me. I sat there and tried real hard to come up with an answer. I don't know.

I've forgotten what it feels like to be normal as far as pain is concerned. Most of my days are spent dealing with the effects of the chemo and nuepogen injections. I do know that the end is in sight, finally. My doctors performed more scans and tests of my body and have found that the cancer is all but gone. I still have to complete my treatments, but that gives me something to hold on to.

Despite having to fight an ugly fight I still have days where the sun is shining and I feel like singing "zippity-doo-dah" to Mr. Blue Jay on my shoulder. I think when I take it all in as a whole everything is satisfactual. I think the corn mash helps a bit.

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Rob Halford

That's right. Rob Halford is the singer for Judas Priest and the best heavy metal singer ever. Seriously. Now the scoop is that around '79, about when "Hell Bent For Leather" came out, Rob wanted to express himself without saying it, so he just wore onstage what he bought from a London gay sex shop for his own personal needs. What is funny is that this is the origin of the heavy metal look, and one that is associated with being masculine and tough.

Even though Halford looked like this many women wanted him. He eventually came out in the nineties and apparently that still shocked some people. I mean, what does a guy have to wear to get some cock around here?

Snow day

It snowed here today. I can't believe how much colder I am now that I have more in common with a dolphin than a chimpanzee. This got me thinking about snow and how it shouldn't have to be cold. What if snow could also be like warm sand falling down on you, but still have the same consistency and properties of snow? That would be sexy.

There was a guy that was talking to a few of us at work. He isn't that bright. He actually started a story by saying, " Yeah, I remember when my parents were little..." I burst out laughing and apparently deeply offended this man. I don't care. If you go around telling people that you remember when your parents were little you should be laughed at. This same guy once told me that his parents owned a ski lift. I had a chance to meet this guy's mother in front of him. I asked her about their "ski lift" and she looked at me like I was smoking crack, initially, then started to laugh. She explained that her and her husband used to ride this one lift so much that they joked that it was theirs. Her son then became visibly upset, like his whole world was falling apart. He really believed this story to be true. Folks, this guy is not a retard. He is a grown man. A grown man with serious issues.

I was bored driving in my utility van and the radio sucks. So I made up a fun song, doo-wop style, about beavers on the loose. I wish I had wrote the lyrics down. Basically, it was just "Bea-ha-vers on the loo-a-hoose" over and over again in different keys and falsetto. It could totally be a smash hit. It actually is similar to another song I wrote in the van, "Big Bag 'o' Pussies". It's a protest song...er, for PETA.

If someone sees themselves in the mirror and thinks it's another person don't be too alarmed. It's when they start telling you how that other person has started molesting them that you should start worrying.

This is a true story. There is a kid that I have been teaching guitar gear related stuff to, not guitar lessons, but setup and stuff like that. Well, I demonstrated my gear/chops to him and apparently have become his new guitar god. He asked me to join his heavy metal band, Vulcan. I was actually very flattered, but I am not sure how comfortable I would be, a guy in his thirties, playing with a bunch of seventeen year olds. Plus, I am not really a "metal" player, even though I certainly listen to a lot of old school stuff. Plus, plus, if I were in a band named "Vulcan" and was the sole old dude, everybody would think that I named the band and was some kind of hopeless Trekkie. Anyway, it kind of made my day. Maybe I could wear a gimp mask to conceal my identity. Drat! Samson already did that. (See, I know my metal history.)

That is all for now. Good day.

Connection retention

Lately I have had a hard time with this. I have been an "inspiration" to other people and have touched their lives with what I'm going through and how I'm dealing with it. I can see it in their faces and how much they ask about me. For some reason I have a hard time retaining these moments and connections, relying on an accumulation of them to get me through.

I have not been able to make a connection from my vantage point in the tangible world during this ordeal. I am aware of people that care for me, and I need those people. However, for some reason I don't seem to stick to anyone in particular. When I am alone it can be a bit too much me and when I am around people the company seems more like a mass of noise and business.

I wonder if there is something wrong with me. Maybe I am just trying to protect myself. Whatever the case, I find myself looking at my address book pondering who to call to see if things will be any different. I call anyway because it is still better to talk to somebody, rather than myself. I just wish that I could be more invested in people sometimes because it seems like they are so invested in me. I don't like the inequality of it from my part.

It's been awhile since I've been over the moon about someone and I'm not talking just love. I mean being wowed and satisfied. That can come from anyone and isn't necessarily sexual. I think the closest I came to that was watching a film where Al Kooper, Mike Bloomfield, and Bob Dylan were in the studio recording "Like a Rolling Stone". That opening to that song is the feeling I long for when I desire someone. I get the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end with that song and to see the masters at work just inspired me to no end.

Maybe I look for things that can't be found--an Indiana Jones trip--that undeniable desire for unobtainable or rare goods. It keeps me entertained and alone, the kind of alone that you get at the edge of a sun-drenched hillside. You can't live there but it can feel good for a time. But I am getting tired being the caretaker of emotional antiquities, to be looked at only and not touched.

Maybe it is time to open up the case and let the risk of dirty hands spoil the preserved artifacts of heart and mind. Purity is useless unless shared which means letting contamination in. Or more purity. Either way, I'm doing things and meeting new people. My mother would be so proud.

Seven weird/random things about me tag/meme

I got tagged by a good bloggitty buddy Tys on Ice here. I am not a tagger or a memeier (I just made that one up, Websters) and so I leave this one open to anyone who just wants to be on my good side, or indifferent side. Whatever.

1. My ultimate job requires Jimi Hendrix Experience. I've listened to all the stoned tapes of him and Jim Morrison yelling/singing about effing girls up the ass. I think I've earned it.
2. Top scientists agree that I am a man of many wonderful wonders. For instance, I can make my thumbs bend backwards at right angles.
3. I once wrote and recorded a song about eating cheese. It was kind of dirty.
4. I will pick up any nasty penny I see on the ground because I truly believe that I'll get good luck from it all day.
5. I once bit into a Siamese cat's balls when I was a toddler. That was the only cat my dad ever loved and it also knew how to use and flush the toilet. I can't remember any of the ball biting, but my dad likes to bust that story out when there has been company.
6. I am completely hairless down in my crack now due to losing hair from chemo. That is one area that can remain hairless, if you ask me.
7. I talk to myself and sometimes answer back. What?

So, there you have it. I gave you what came off the top of me tit. I hope you enjoyed reading. Goodbye for now.

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): In case you were wondering...

It was those candied yams you ate. Deeeeee-vine!

Oh, to post a post of goodly things

Instead, you are left with this....

I think someone should tell pigs just how good they taste and then they'd run real fast, faster than cheetahs.

Did any of the apostles break wind at the last supper or was it strictly a solemn event?

A change of scenery cannot hold a candle to a change of shorts.

Cleopatra took some bees and a hollow gourd to make what?

I was told that I was a dick today by somebody in a passing car. This was great news. Now I can say that my dick is 5'11" and is smart as a whip--it has read Tolstoy's "War and Peace". That is attractive.

I think that the next trend in automotive design will include eyebrows. This would be a brilliant way to show off the mood of your car. All nerd cars and Yugos would have unibrows.

I wonder what a unicorn with a unibrow would look like? Would anyone ride it?

Manitoba is the best nickname for what body part?

I used to think that Joe Cocker was an epileptic. When I found out that he wasn't it really blew me away. That wasn't supposed to be funny. I just thought I'd share that with you.

I got tagged by Ty's on Ice to do a meme. That will be coming up soon. I hope you all enjoyed this post. I'm tired and have to go and get a bunch of tests and scans done tomorrow. Whooopeeee!

The Wisdom of Brainstick: Bigfoot is real

I'm sitting here all bored and when that happens I get all thinky with my Brainstick. My Brainstick is a bat that I lathed out from a solid hickory blank back in high school shop. Holding it gives me inspiration and a feeling of "back the eff up" if anything intrudes on me.

Today my Brainstick revealed to me that Bigfoot is indeed real. I don't question my Brainstick. The tree from which the blank was taken is much, much older than me, and therefore wiser. Yes, Bigfoot is on the loose sawing women in half and crunching numbers in a most stealthy fashion. Bigfoot also enjoys putting on roadshows, but in the guise of swishy parish priests.

This is why science's nuts get cut off each time they are confronted with the issue of Bigfoot's existence. Science is looking in the wrong direction. Bigfoot is one slippery beast and only enjoys the out of doors occasionally. Hey, we all need wilderness getaways. Where he lives is in a different dimension, with the ability to jump from one to another.

If you need proof of his existence take a look at your computer's keyboard. See all that trapped hair in there? That's his. He loves sneaking in on your computer and looking at tractor porn. I have no idea what tractor porn is but I can only imagine that it involves getting plowed and threshed.

If it weren't for my Brainstick I would not have access to such knowledge. It is comforting to me to have such a fountain of wisdom. It's as if I've tapped into that great fabric of which time and space are made. It also troubles my family that I carry a bat around with me and talk about Bigfoot all the time.

Oh, the power of belief. I really do see the merit of it. It has great power and once it has solidified inside one's heart and mind almost nothing can destroy it. We all believe in things that are just as ridiculous as my "Brainstick"--maybe not as overtly. But if you get enough people to agree and believe as you do, with you, it can be a mountain. That is why I want Bigfoot, leprechauns, and the cyclops to make a comeback.

Believing in something needs to be fun again. I want to be in a parking garage and really feel like just around the corner some little shit is hiding his pot of gold from me. That would really make my life interesting and yours too.

I want to know what other mythological things you think would make life more interesting--what do you want brought back?

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Poofros

A poofro is a fro with poodle like qualities. When does an afro or a jewfro turn into a poofro? When your hair starts looking like your grandma's.

Now, we all know who the king, er, queen of the poofro is: Richard "Greasy Thighs" Simmons! But what of others? Who else has the most TIGF of poofros? I want to hear your picks.

Just a quick dedication. Proceed to the next post if you haven't read it yet.

I just wanted to take a moment and honor all that have fallen in the quest to find out which mushrooms are edible and which ones will kill you. This sausage and mushroom pizza is just delish!

Duh, I forget (or did I?)

I got on here expecting to write some kind of awesome post for all of you and I just plum forgot what it was I wanted to write about. I think I have halftimer's disease--it isn't quite all the timers.

So, I figure I can just sit here and write a bunch of random crap like I always do and all my bloggity besties will drop me a line. It's what I live for, really. If I could breast feed you all, I would. There is no need for restraining orders. I don't have enough money for the plane ticket.

Oh, I know! I can tell you about the far out dream I had last night. See, I have reoccurring themes that I dream about. Some of those themes include screwing hot women that I have no hope in hell of really getting with in real life, tornadoes that shoot bees at me while chasing me and then hurting my feelings with verbal insults, and finally, what I call "The Old Man and the Sea" or "Ernest Hemingway" dream. No, it isn't a dream about me getting drunk and blowing my brains out--it's about trying to land a monster fish.

This dream had me going on a fishing trip with a strange family--my family--which then turned into some people at work. Dreams do that kind of crap, very inconsistent. I think that is why dreams, real ones, are incredible. People who have dreams that read just like a story are lying their fucking asses off. They are trying real hard to impress you with their dream that means some kind of far out shit. I really think that they had a dream, and then at some point a fragment of that dream gave them hope, they wake up and then concoct some asinine piece of shit storyline for that "dream" to impress upon people their "fate".

Boy, I really got off topic there. Sorry. My point is that I dig the fact that I can be driving a car with a lady next to me, then that lady is then replaced by a bucket of chicken wearing a dog collar for no apparent reason. I mean, I just go with it and screw the bucket of chicken instead (insert Colonel Sanders joke here).

Back to my dream. So now I am in a camper talking to the people in the truck through a slider window. I am all about what kind of fish we are going to catch and they are just sitting there smiling at shit. It's really fucking creepy to be honest. Who the fuck are these people anyways? They used to be a strange family, then my family, my co-workers, and now a bunch of creepy guy smileys. Well, tell you the truth, they're all that way so nothing changed. We get to the river and now I am all by myself. Apparently, I got bored with all those other people and banished them out of dreamland. They deserved it, if you ask me.

I prefer fly fishing, but my dreams don't always reflect my real life preferences. However, in this case, I was fly fishing. Suck on that, Sandman. I was fishing in a nearby river and with ten pound test. This is an important detail. I hook a mighty sturgeon. See, now we are getting to the "Old Man and the Sea" shit. So, now I am struggling to land this massive dinosaur like fish. I have to be careful not to fight it too hard or else I will break my line. The dream goes on like this for a bit, very dramatic.

Anyway, I finally get the fish to the river bank and it opens up its mouth and tries to eat me. Naturally, what is most logical is to stick one's hand down the mouth of the beast--the beast who is trying to eat you--and grab it's tongue. Well, that is what I did. What I did next was just pure genius, in a Ted Nugent way. I magically summon a .357 magnum and blow the damn fish's head clean off. The end. No, it wasn't the end. These series of events, where I pull the fish up to the bank to blowing its head off, replay about five times. I would have to say that this was one of my best dreams I've ever had.

See, now this is the part of the blog post where I could draw conclusions and extract meaning from this dream. But, where's the fun in that? You should have seen that fish head explode! Aren't you glad I didn't try to impress you with some inspirational triumph in dreamland that somehow foretells that I will kick life's ass?

Well, it could be about that.

My bowels can go from zero to sixty in 3.5 seconds

Some of my favorite side effects of chemo are constipation and diarrhea. The transition from one to the other comes quite fast and violently. I know that after this confession that I am on top of your "must have underwear fun with" lists, ladies.

I totally relied on spell checker to correct the word diarrhea for me. This is ironic because it is one of my most favorite of words.

I haven't decided which I like more: Oompa Loompas or Munchkins. The Munchkins are cute and have that whole Lollipop Guild thing going on for them, but you can sure put an Oompa Loompa to work. On the other hand, tragedy surrounds anyone near the Oompas. It is a bit troubling, I must say. However, their songs have a lesson to teach and they make me feel better about myself--mainly that I am not the chump getting turned into a freakin' blueberry.

Speaking of blueberries, why is it so damn hard to find "Boo Berry" cereal outside of the month of October? That stuff is too good not to be year round.

I went to a place that made "old fashioned" hamburgers the other day. I stuck around for a bit in line but ultimately left disappointed. I was in a more "old timey" mood anyway.

In my dream America there is a man named "Buck Kennedy" running for president. He rides horses and carries a lasso wherever he goes. His future running mate is "Peter F. Hammershaft". I promise I don't watch gay porn.

Would it kill Carl's Jr. to be a little more civilized? Yes, it would. Besides, I kind of like the implications of a female truck driver chowing down on a taco salad. That's right. It makes me all horny in a bad way.

I tried a thing called "Five Hour Energy Shot" the other day. That was a total waste of money. It tasted bad and made me all paranoid. I really need to stop buying random things at 7-11.

Soylent Green is people...now featuring 10% more Asians!!!

Let's face it: they just add a certain kind of zing.

Failed presidential campaign slogans:

"The future belongs to you. Thank god I'm living in the past."

"America: The last great white hope!"

"Screw the environments. Where's my rifle?"

"Here...here's your G-D oil, @!#$!@%!!!"

"Sexy time in the Oval Office once more."

"Baby, lets invade."

"OMG, did you know that Russia has the bomb?"

"Will abort babies for carbon offsets."

"Gay marriage has WMDs."

Actually, that last one would probably win. Call me, Mitt.

I'm all out of stuff to write about. Can I go to bed now?

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Baby Talkers

Baby talk is gay. People who baby talk all the damn time are TIGF!!! in a bad way. There is a lady at work who always talks in baby talk. It bugs the hell outta me. She must be surrounded by grand kids and/or pets, therefore, lacking the ability to talk normally.

However, we all know that if it weren't for baby talk, mankind would not have tamed the mighty wolf into domestic animals. Just how powerful is that? Look at a shi-zu and think that many, many years ago it would have been eating some moose carcass with authority. So, maybe baby talkers are annoying, but they have the power of getting wild animals to do what they want.

I think I am going to stay away from that lady from now on.

Up too late

It really isn't late as far as what I was used to staying up, but it is for a guy that has to be at a hospital early in the morning. I'm a little keyed up right now. It would be nice if I didn't have thoughts of getting hooked up to machines and chemicals getting pumped into me.

However, the knowledge and the fact that this will mark my 2/3rds of the way through for chemotherapy is pretty damn exciting. So, I am both filled with dread and excitement. I will name this new confused feeling mixodemotemented.

So, now I bid thee adieu. I must repair to my race car bed and think of what kind of super powers would get me laid the most.

Yulk Partonaments

Gurpten las perentonomy ben reper nan tekker. Farnephily! Meshern lan tarkle pedrle goosh nan renkletenskin. Dershmile forginsk waddal pemelskin? Banask, feddlenst son bish bish taddle maxck. Sawang hunnel sphurl tammel gosk, vuun.

All that really happened. Unbeliveable, right?

Hi, how are you?

I am doing better. I figure that passing a kidney stone will be the only thing to surpass the pain I was going through on Thursday night, save some kind of horrendous accident involving fire and Brillo pads. Seriously though, it was not fun and I also came in contact with something that my already weak immune system was trying to fight. My doctor said that if my temperature got to 100.5 F that I was to go into the ER pronto. From Thursday into Saturday I monitored my temperature every two hours. It got to 100 but nothing higher, so my weak immune system prevailed. The bone pain was caused from a bad reaction to the changed schedule and increased dosage of the Nuepogen injections I receive. The chemo is bad enough.

So, what else? Um, well, I saw "Bee Movie" and got a kick out of it. I wanted to see "American Gangster" but I just missed the starting time. It's funny that I initially went to see a very graphic film and ended up seeing a good kid's movie. Hey, that's what I'm all about: serendipity.

I had a black and white cat cross the road in front of me today. I thought about this for a minute. What does this mean, mediocre luck? I think so, and if it is a pure white cat then it means good luck. I then wondered about all the other colors of cats. I came up with this: You will consume bad Chinese food in the near future. I think I am on to something here.

There is nothing good on TV right now. This really pisses me off because I'm in the mood for Bonanza or some shit. Maybe that one dude "Bear" on the Discovery channel is making sweet love to a moss covered rock right now. That would be good TV.

Why can't there be a marriage between Chinese opera and barbecue joints? I'm so tired of the blues cliche that they all seem to adopt in those BB-Q pits. There's nothing more I'd like than to be having a beef brisket and some Chinese man dressed as a woman shouting at me in a high pitched tone. I live in a very different world from the rest of you all, I suppose.

Alright, I am going to check the tube for sexy, moss covered rocks in heat. Hasta!

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Sorry.

I've been through the wringer this past 24 hours. Relentless pain in my skeleton and some other problems have dogged me hard. The pain was such that I was moaning in tears--and not like the time I snuck off with a friend's cute cousin at his family reunion. This rarely happens to me, but the intensity and duration of the pain was too much for me to bear. I took some Lortab and it did nothing for me.

So, I am sorry that there is no TIGF today. I had one planned but I'm really not in the mood to do it now. I'm home from work and just going to relax.

Cheers!

BOO!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I've been wondering lately about Frankenstein's head and why it's shaped like a bucket of fried chicken. Did Dr. Frankenstein just not give a flying Fargk? He's all like, "This shit is taking too long, Fritz. Just dig that one up; damn aesthetics!"

Which brings me to the actor Dwight Frye, who played "Fritz", the assistant, in the original 1931 film adaptation of "Frankenstein", as well as "Renfield", the real estate agent who goes crazy serving Count Dracula, in the 1931 film adaptation of "Dracula". On Alice Cooper's album "Love it to Death" (notice: the group was named "Alice Cooper" at that time and not just "Alice" himself) there is an awesome tribute to Dwight Frye in their song "The Ballad of Dwight Fry". It is worth downloading most of that album, BTW, but that song alone is worth the $0.99 on Itunes for a musical Halloween treat.

While we are talking Alice Cooper, let me recommend some creepy songs of his. "Dead Babies" sounds like a dementedly dark Beatles tune about the tragic consequences of child neglect; this is one of the group's best tunes. "Black JuJu" if you like rip offs of Pink Floyd's "Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun". "Only Women Bleed" a touching ballad about what abused/battered women have to endure. "Cold Ethyl" a funny little song about necrophilia. "I Love the Dead" is why I love Alice Cooper, because people think they/he are all about heavy metal and they were never even close to that: This song is basically a Broadway show tune.

I was at the hospital today getting a nuepogen injection. The nurses were dressed in old school uniforms. Women, if you want to look hotter than hell for Halloween, I recommend the old school nurse's uniform for a costume.

Anyway, I am not going to anything special tonight. It's been cold and sunny here, so my costume is of the "bald" unibomber variety, with Aviator mirror sunglasses and a hoodie. I look pretty badass. Anyway, I am doing my own version of Linus waiting for the "Great Pumpkin" tonight. Only, I am keeping my eye out for a Fatsquatch and the mysterious Hobo Frankenstein. I think I will at least spy a Fatsquatch. He always has great Halloween candy on hand.

Happy Halloween!

Halloweenie is coming! Featuring "Phantasm" trailer and Jules, a true Gruntonian

The above clip is a trailer from the 1979 cult classic horror flick "Phantasm". If you were around here almost a year ago you'd remember that I did a post about the Tall Man. You can read that post here. There is just something about this film that gets me in the Halloween mood. Out of the four Phantasm films made the first is by far the best. The middle two are a bit on the howlingly bad/good time variety and the fourth is more weird and serious. Enough of my fanboy musings; let's get posty!

Now I know that there have been two other awesome as hell people, true to the cause of Gruntonia, who have bought t-shirts from me, but my good friend Jules was kind enough to send me a photo of her in her brand new "Gruntonian" white tank top. I thought I should share with you the photo. I did get permission, BTW.
Doesn't she look ABFAB? If you have no idea what "ABFAB" means you need to study up on your Brit sitcoms--which reminds me that if you have no idea who "Old Greg" is, I'm feeling that you need to find out. Hint: He's an underwater funk machine/fish that has a light spewing mangina. Beware of fishing out on Black Lake when the moon is full. I warned y'all!

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Lemonade

Lemonade is either old fashioned or fruity. Either way it is TIGF!!! When you have your choice of manly beverages and choose lemonade instead, a special thing happens to your taste buds--something says, "hellooooooooo!" Add raspberry or other delights and it gets even gayer, my friend. But, nothing could be gayer than the ultimate in TIGF: pink lemonade!!!

Lately, I've been digging this thing called lemonade because it is the drink that cuts through all my nasty chemo effects on my taste and my mouth. You know I'm going to be drinking some on this spectacularly gay Friday.

What gay drinks do you indulge in?

Seven down, five more to go

Today marks my seventh chemotherapy session. I will no doubt be feeling pretty messed up and wishing that I was all done with it. I'm really tired right now and should be in bed, but I had to post something--it's how I get good email in the form of comments from you guys.

Sometimes I feel like a brave soul in battle and other times I feel completely frail and lost. In the midst of this pendulum effect I get brief periods where I forget about my cancer and can think of silly things like I used to. I'm not having that moment of pause happen right now.

What's happening now are all the thoughts of my port being accessed, the smells, and the sounds of the infusion room that cue my stomach to feel uneasy and my throat to tighten. There is an awful taste in my mouth that lingers for some days afterward that either makes food rotten, or when I can't taste so well, is the only thing there. I'm losing weight.

People try to help and understand what it is that I'm going through. But I get so tired of being reminded of my situation that when I am asked how I am doing I get a bit upset. I hide it pretty well, though.

I'm getting used to my little alien implant (porta-cath). I refer to it as my "radio dial". Now that I am losing weight it is clearly visible as a dark area under my skin. Of course, it was visible as a protrusion before. Now it is just a bit more freaky. Maybe I should refer to it as my third nipple.

I haven't lost any more hair on my head, but I keep losing it all over my body. I don't have any nostril hair now and my nose keeps running. I look like a snot-nosed kid half the damn time.

Older women (50+) still rub my head. I don't know what is up with the younger generations of women. I need the 20-30 year old crowd on my head. That did not sound right. Well....

My faithful truck Clyde has been a good boy of late. No break downs or otherwise. He turns thirty in November and looks good. I think I can squeeze another decade out of the guy. It takes a lot of love to keep the elderly from the scrap yard. Now that I'm getting more and more run down, it is time for him to take care of me. Thanks buddy!

It has been almost two years since I killed a weasel with a leaf blower.

Feelin' Posty

I think I know why explorers have not found Noah's Ark. They have been looking for a vessel that is 300 cubits long. What they don't know is that down through time the story has been changed. If you know God, and believe me, I know God, his favorite way to measure things is by Cubans. I wonder if Fidel Castro is up for an expedition?

I was at a friend's house watching some DVDs and I busted out a bag of Doritos. I was attacked by his cat; well, I had a chip in my hand and it jumped on me and snatched it. I marveled at this and kept feeding this cat Doritos. My friend wasn't fazed at all. He said that is his cat's favorite food.

My best friend and I were exploring a slot canyon down in Escalante about this time last year. One of the canyons was flooded and so we swam through this narrow crevice in the earth. The walls were so high that not much light could shine down, making it necessary to use flash lights. The best part was that the water was freezing cold. Why? Well, I was the first one to commit self neuterization by cold water. After I got through that first stretch I was treated to the sounds of my friend descending into the pool. What I heard echoing off the twisting walls of carved sandstone sounded strange. Not to offend or sound racist, but he sounded just like a deaf, old, Japanese man suffering a fatal orgasm. It was one of my life's all time favorite moments. I hope they have instant replay when my life flashes before my eyes when I die.

Bigfoot is known amongst Native Americans to have magical powers--the abilities to not be seen, shape shifting, and sawing beautiful women in half only to be able to put them back together again. What is not as well known is that the Big Foot are great accountants. Many accounting firms have had phenomena happen where all of their books are done with amazing accuracy and speed, only to be left with a beautiful woman in a box put back together as their only clue.

I've had people tell me that the Bible is their favorite book in the whole wide world. I tell those people that I am not in charge of getting people into Heaven, so stop lying. I am in charge of restroom breaks in purgatory. You will still have to be nice to me, it appears.

I was thinking about the principle of tithing today. God gives you protection and blessings in exchange for a tenth of your income. I had no idea God was from New Jersey.

Bada-bing, hey!

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Man Nips

When the words "man" and "rosebud" are joined together I pray to God in Heaven that they will be used to discuss the subject of childhood lost and not some dude's pointy-pepperoni erogenous zones. This next line will be spent admiring my use of the cinematic masterpiece "Citizen Kane" and nipples in one sentence...ahhhhhhhhh!

Seriously though, man nips are seriously TIGF!!! Whether they are in a bad way or in a super good way depends on your orientation. Does this then mean that man nips are actually TIBF??? Naw, I'm not starting a new day to write about. Besides, bisexuals are still gay. You can't double dip and return the ranch back to Bonanza; I'm sorry. As an aside, what, if possible, would a bi-bisexual be into? Take your time and think about that one a bit. Uh, not while your boss is watching.

So, if you are a man who does not like having one ounce of him being gay, what can you do about your man nips? First, you can get a belt sander and take them down to Ken Doll in a matter of seconds. Second, and least painful, never take off your shirt. Third, band aids to blindfold the milk eyes: they are painful to take off though, relative to the degree of chest hair present at the time. Of course, you could shave off your chest hair or not have any in the first place, thus making the removal of said band aids painless. However, not having chest hair is gay in a super bad way--seriously, it is unnatural--a lumberjack once told me this.

My mother said to never trust lumberjacks, but this one had an honest face under that huge beard of his. Plus, he showed me where leprechauns came from once, and that changed my life forever.

Where was I? Oh yes. Man nips are a fact of life; there is no getting around it. If you are a man, no matter how manly, you are partly TIGF!!! Deal.

Procrasturbation

I think I like putting things off. I must get some kind of sick pleasure out of it, honestly. I could use my disease as an excuse right now, but seriously, some of this crap I've been putting off could get done.

Procrasturbating is one of those things that I have indulged in most of my Huck Finn existence. I need to stop hanging out in that musty, old gym sock of putting things off.

Procrastination is not even close to what I'm talking about here. There's something, a gene perhaps, that I have where mere procrastination is not enough; rather, I relish taking my time or ignoring that one thing that must be done until I finally reach climax. Why else would I keep doing it?

I'm really not bad at it with most things, but certain areas are just lousy. I don't want you to get the impression that I'm lazy. I just hope that there are others who might find themselves smack dab in this situation. I want to know about the stuff you procrastinate purely out of pleasure.

Seriously though, anybody up for some mutual procrasturbation?

Sperm Whales and Mayonnaise

Since I've been talking about dreams lately, and being off me tit, I decided to keep on going with my dreams.

I once had a dream that I had an underwater ranch. It was much like the ranches you see out in the country except that I milked sperm whales. They had udders and everything. Somehow, I think the idea of offering sperm whale milk to the masses would not catch on. The words "sperm" and "milk" have connotations that most could not swallow. Anyways, tuna were my chickens of the sea--naturally.

Have you ever had condiments play major roles in your dreams? I'm not even talking sexy ones, folks. I once had a dream that I got in trouble for throwing pickles at people from my roof top. This led to a police chase. I led the police to a hillside, whereupon I got out a jar of mayonnaise and a huge butter knife. I proceeded to spread in big letters on the hillside, "Go Away!" The cops got stuck in the mayonnaise and I was able to fly away. This makes me wonder, if flight were possible why then did I not choose to fly away from the cops in the first place? Oh yeah, they got helicopters and shit. Still, dream flying is some bad ass action. I highly recommend doing it whenever possible.

I'm still waiting for the real life equivalent "Cops" episode.

Hoola Poop!

My favorite new saying is that I'm "off me tit" about something.

I had this great dream last week, but when I woke up I couldn't stop laughing at it. In the dream I was promoted to a job up on the top floor of the organization that I work for. I had no idea what it was that I did, but it seemed like everyone was liking it. I was all off me tit about it, sitting there in my big chair and huge office. That is when the best part happened: a sexy office lady came up to me with a memo that just said "Stud!!!" I wrote a reply back saying, "Stud Finder!!!" To which she giggled and cooed at me. It was all very sexy and real until I woke up. I started laughing at the whole exchange.

I was off me tit about it all day long.
The End.

Where I venture

I need to do more of these for you all. It was taken with my phone. I was feeling a bit queasy but happy to be out in this other worldly location. The salt was sticky due to moisture--not good for land speed records on this day. I don't like to say much other than what I need to. The scenery speaks for itself.

About this time last year I was down in Escalante and Capitol Reef, Utah. If you can remember my video clip of the flooding that was going on in Capitol Reef you will kind of get my no-frills presentation.

After this clip my party and I headed over the border from Utah to Wendover, Nevada. Why? To say "hi" to Wendover Will, the cowboy. It had nothing to do with craps, blackjack, or loose slots.

One thing that amused the hell out of me was a sign out in the middle of nowhere that had an arrow pointing West with the words "Meat Goats" on it. Curiously, it made me hungry.

Anyway, that is what I did today. Fun, eh?

BTW, if you couldn't understand what I said, this is what it was, "Somewhere out on the Bonneville Salt Flats."

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Pink bows/ribbons

You put one on Lou Ferrigno and you get TIGF!!! in a most fabulous way. That is the power of the pink bow, my friends. Put one on a pit bull and that pit bull no longer poses a threat. I even once put a pink bow on my calculus homework and it no longer seemed that tough. I don't think my teacher quite understood me after that when I said that math was gay.

What things do you put pink bows on?

I want to buy the world a Shasta Diet Cola

How are we all doing? I'm just sitting here wondering what to post about. I'm kind of drawing a blank. Those are easy to draw, BTW. All you have to do is take out a fresh piece of paper and viola, you've drawn a blank!

I've learned this one truth throughout my life and certainly now: If it isn't one thing, it's another. I have found that when the doctors told me that "You don't have to stop living your life now that you've got cancer" they were absolutely right. Remember, life includes all those sucky bits too. I still have to deal with a crap ass landlord, more bills than there are forests to supply the demand for paper to print them on, girls that won't go out with me, work, and getting stuck in traffic. Life also includes the good stuff, which includes you guys.

I accept life. The pain and the tragedy of life are part of what I accept. Even though I accept those things I don't revel in them or approve. I have the right to anger and disgust, but I know that life and the world will always have more than it's share of what I've mentioned. So, I go with it and try my best to keep my small stage interesting and happy.

I have things right now, other than my health, that are putting a great deal of stress on me. I am prone to anxiety with the chemicals that they treat me with. I have found it harder to deal with stress now more than ever. However, I do my best and try to get through the tough times without too much hassle.

I never could have imagined that this is where I'd be at this time in my life. If that is true now, I wonder what my life will be like in ten years. I wonder about the longevity of the words that I write in this blog. Will I matter in the long run? Will people still remember me? I hope so. I've made some great friends through this medium and I wouldn't want to forget about them.

I've felt pretty vulnerable lately as well. That is a new feeling for me in the amount that I have felt it. Mercy is a blessing that I accept with gratitude, and do I ever need it. Grace is another essential gift that I could not do without. I'm experiencing what it is to be meek and humble. I have no place for being puffed up and aloof to helping hands. It is harder than you can imagine for me to be in this position.

If anything, I now have real compassion for others. I used to think that I had it, but certainly it is on a whole different level now. I also am keenly aware of my mortality and how fragile it is. It is a prize to live, yet you can't just live and be a winner. So, even though I have a deeper appreciation for life, I am still left with, "What in the hell am I going to do with it?"

Did I mention that I wanted to be a firetruck when I grew up?

Right, take a seat and listen for a bit.

Well, I'm offering a new design of thong at my store. This is a concept that was born of a conversation that mi amigo and I were having about free breakfast and strip clubs--not that we're that sort of men. He thought that it would be a novel idea of tipping the dancer with your breakfast. I then came up with the idea of "The Breakfast Thong". He then came up with the idea you see to the right.

I told my friend Jules about it and she wanted to do the design based on me and my friend's ideas. Anyway, the pancakes go down the front to keep warm. You don't wanna know where the sausage goes. So, this is an actual thing you can buy, although I did it as a joke. Aren't I a funny guy.

On another note, I've been feeling pretty good lately. The physical side of things still is a challenge, but emotionally I feel great. Too bad this stuff keeps on going. I hit my halfway point for chemo on Wednesday. I am going to celebrate by not puking all over the place and taking a nap.

I got an old guitar all rewired and sounding superb. It sounds and plays so nice that I don't want to sell it now. I am this way with all my equipment, but some of it just has to go. It's not that I don't have money; it's just that I don't have that much anymore and I am smart enough to know that sacrifice now means stability later. Still, it is hard to part with an old friend.

I decided to hop in Clyde today and go for a drive out in the country. It was great. However, I almost got in a couple of accidents from people drifting into my lane and I was distracted for a bit and my truck went off the road a tad. The thing that made my testicles scream was that I was inches from going down a fifty foot drop off. Here I was swearing at "stupid" people for nearly hitting me and then I was driving off the damn road. My BF Goodriches kept me from sliding off and I got back on the road. I think I pissed my pants just a little after that. Gotta love country roads. Oh, and the road kill tally was pretty damn high today.

Right now, there is snow in the mountains. Yesterday I took Clyde up a canyon, and against better judgment in my condition, cut some fresh tracks up there on some trails. I actually took a couple of photos on the way up on my journey. I'll post them later.

All this shows that I've finally got my car problems taken care of and I can finally trust my vehicle to not strand me. Of course, that's provided that I don't do something stupid. Now I just need to get my body free of cancer and I will be out testing my limits once again.

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Rocky III+, featuring the beach

There is no doubt that Rocky kicks ass, as evident in the first two movies. However, we were subjected to more and more of this Italian Stallion's extra 21st chromosome of a life story: Going from training in a gaudy, palatial, media drome facility to either some hood pit and/or Siberian Summer home; raising annoying offspring with bad taste in rebellious ear rings; rags to riches, to rags again, melodrama; Bridget Nielsen; and Uncle Paulie's robot girlfriend. Oh, and not to mention that the U.S.S.R. had nuclear powered gyms with loads of blinking lights and laser graphics--while we all know their shit is still getting converted from vacuum tubes to transistors.

Also, there is the little matter of Rocky going from "Sloth" (Goonies) to articulate millionaire, and then back to New Jersey wharf rat retard/Sloth again--except he's from Philly. What in the hell was Adrian doing to this poor man? I think at some point she gave up listening him try to read his stocks out loud in order to speed up the morning breakfast and started putting salt peter and lead chips in his oatmeal. She liked him better dumb anyway, just with less humping now that her bones were brittle. I really don't know where I was going with that one.

The most TIGF!!!, but in a good way, was the music of Survivor. If it were not for "The Eye of the Tiger", who knows how bad that fool would have been pitied. In fact, "Rocky III" features the gayest scene ever: Rocky and Apollo running together on a beach, followed by a wet, encircling embrace. I think the only thing that kept them from doing each other right then and there was Rocky's strict "no butt sex for six weeks" rule before each fight.

Here is the full training sequence from Rocky III, complete with "happy ending". Enjoy!

Update on your favorite prima donna

Yeah, I've been going through the drama lately. Thanks to you guys, I keep on going. I changed the store "Gruntonia" and I think the products are now something that you'll all like. I only have a basic package with this thing, so I can only offer one design per product. In other words, a white t-shirt can only be offered with one design. I can change that design, but can't offer two or more versions of it. Variety doth not a basic package offer and I have to keep my $$$ to pay for cancer treatment.

So, I offer "GRUNTONIAN" t-shirts, with my avatar icon on the back of the t-shirts where that was an available option (not available in the black long sleeve). Dark color t-shirts are currently being used for the enlarged "Scary Ass Clown" design, available until Halloween. I got rid of all the cutesy "Captain" howdy shit.

So, now to the story of your screwed up mental patient of a friend: me. I'm exiting a very dark pit at the moment. Physical and mental challenges have dogged me on this particularly toxic part of my treatment. I'm having to part with some beloved guitars and amps. Girls think I have cooties, except older ones. Car repair drama. My body is going to pot from not being as active as I used to be and I can't seem to do anything about it due to pain and fatigue. My do-hickey don't work so good anymore. Oh, and I feel like my stomach is hanging under my throat ready to send out a big hello of chunky goodness half the time. Sometimes, for no reason at all, I feel like something isn't right, but I don't know what in the hell that thing is and I worry like hell about it. Lack of sleep.

Despite all of this I am turning my way of thinking around and looking forward to one week from now. That will mark my halfway point with my chemotherapy. I have kick-ass friends and family (you all are included in that), so I am winning. Battles get ugly and this one certainly has for me. They don't call it "Cuddly Kittens Disease". They call it cancer, and it is one deadly son of a bitch. I think I'm doing pretty damn good.

Do pity parties come with pinatas? 'Cause I totally want one.

Get your "Scary Ass Clown" Apparel now!!!

Okay, I finally came up with some dark shirts and one other thing with this on the front. I couldn't get the image any bigger on the shirts (check it out on the sidebar). That's what I had to work with. I'm thinking of other shirts that won't get my ass sued, which for TIGF!!! might be a toughie.

As for me, well, I am climbing out of a pretty dark pit. I've felt really alone and weak physically. None of this crap that has been going on with my health and other circumstances has been easy on me, for sure. It seems that one way or another your body and mind can't take it forever and you crash.

I drop by your blogs and just don't feel like I have anything to say lately. I am beginning to feel that will change. I just have to ride this thing out. I know that I am clinging to a small readership here. I love you all, really. I know this sounded rather melodramatic. It's just what I'm feeling right now.

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): The Man from Nantucket

You know this guy. He'll blow himself. He'd darn near do his own ear. What's to say that he hasn't already done every orifice available on his body? I mean, "If my ear was a c**t I'd f**k it". That would never stop a man from Nantucket. I'll bet no gourd, squash, watermelon, or lotion filled baggy is safe around this dude. Hide your pets, too. There's nothing, or no one that this man wouldn't do.

As for me, I've had better days. It's been rough lately.

Hold off for now...unless you just want to

Even though I got the store up I haven't really got the prices set where I wanted. The prices should come down a bit. The initial design was just something I banged out to see if it would work. I am holding off on using my avatar for obvious reasons--I just modified a preexisting piece of artwork. So, to profit from it might be a big no-no. I will come up with my own "Gruntman" soon enough and more robust phrases to go along. This first design was the happy "hello" one just to let people know that I actually did what I said I would do after all this time of talking about it. So, just buy whatever you want. More designs will come and there might be that Hobo Frankenstein shirt you always wanted in my store.

I went and set up a Grunt store

I'm new at this stuff, but I thought I'd give it a go. The store can be linked from my sidebar. The stuff is stoopid and pricey, I think. Not all of the products seem to have made it to my store front. I will come up with more designs in the future. I won't use my avatar because I did not draw him. I just modified the image for my own use. I will definitely do a TIGF!!! line. You know, what the hell, right?

Nothing in particular

So, I've been working on the T-Shirt dealy and hopefully within a month I will have a few items to sell, including some hot women's underwear (not kidding). I tried to use my little red dude for part of a design and noticed that the top of his head is flat. Oh well. You all are just going to have to live with that.

I had a thought about the Anti-Pasta the other day. The Anti-Pasta is the Anti-Christ of the religious movement Pastifarianism, which are followers of the Flying Spahgetti Monster. I was just wondering how much cheese, artichoke, and salami one must eat in order to turn to the dark side, 'cause I'm totally on my way.

I just thought I'd try something bold today.

How many times have you asked yourself, "Is that my arm I'm laying on", and you are the only one in bed.

Clyde turns thirty in November. I can tell he is having an age crisis because he seems to be falling apart all over the place. Even though I am currently in for repairs I've managed to keep Clyde running through all of this crap. I can't remember being this way when I turned thirty. Clyde is being such a whiny douche. I don't think a pair of fuzzy dice is going to fix this.

Satan isn't red. He told me so. Purple is more his style.

Jesus was a big fan of Donkey racing. Back before his ministry he had a kick ass ass that was all tricked out and shit, doing wheelies 'n' stuff. That was the real reason he had to leave home--his ass was just too big for such a small town. Really, small town folk just don't understand a boy's big dreams. Fortunately, Jesus' ass was stolen by some Roman pricks and that is when he turned to religion. You all thought he was boring too. Shame.

I just may find myself in hell for that last bit.

Shalom.

Just a thought

Utopia is bunk. We will never be equal unless culture is erased and that would suck ass. Suffering and loss are part of the human experience. As long as we need certain things to survive we will also want more. How are you going to erase that intrinsic selfishness out of a new born baby? It seems the rational thing to do is just manage the inequality the best we can and help enough but not to the point where you're ruined. If the meek shall inherit the earth who is going to give it to them? Thought so. What a great way to control people.

BTW, I'm still waiting for Outerspace Santa to give me my minibike.

TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday): Going Polish

Admit it, you know what I'm talking about. You are on the run and haven't eaten anything. You've only got enough time to hit the gas station for a meal, or it's a late night run and your stomach has gone all diva on you. A normal hot dog just won't cut it. Neither will a foot long-- because we all know it isn't how big it is--it's how much you can do with what you've got. That's when you go Polish, my friend.

(BTW, I was a bit reluctant to do an image search for this one. I wanted to be able to sleep for the rest of my life.)

Blog Post: Lost In Translation

There are some ideas that I have for blog posts that I just can't do. If I was vain enough to do vlogs on You Tube, then it might be different. Such is the case with this idea: Paul Stanley's "Do It" Yo-self Home Center.

Now if you were like me growing up you rolled your doobies and ate mac and cheese off of your "KISS ALIVE!!!" LP. I was only a wee bairn when it came out but later on in life I revisited my mad lust for the freaky monster guys in makeup. I really did love them when I was barely able to walk. I just didn't really know much more than that they looked awesome as hell--probably when they were doing god awful disco albums, no less. It took me until my teen years to go back and revisit my fascination for them, only then could I listen to them rock out.

Now we will get on with the post at hand. See, on "KISS ALIVE!!!" you get treated to Paul Stanley's concert banter and various hoots and hollers. Here are some memorable moments:

"Whoooooooweeeee, Firehouse!"~Paul Stanley (Star Man).

"Come on, lets see your hands. Whooooo!"~Paul Stanley.

"BABY!!!"~Paul Stanley.

"RAWRRRR!!!" *spits blood-breathes fire*~Gene Simmons (Fire Demon).

"Meow!"~Peter Criss (Space Cat).

Ace Frehley (Alien) never really said much other than what he said to himself, which usually went along the lines of, "Oh boy, am I shit faced! Oh god, here comes another fucking solo (mouths twangy double bend) Bweeeeeeer-neeeeeer-neeeeeeer....deeedle-deeedle-deeeeeeeee!"

Okay, I've gone off the rails again. My point is that I am too familiar with KISS and my inside humorous musings on them get lost on most people, let alone where I am limited to typing about it.

So, here is my little skit that features a famous line from the live version of "Deuce" from the "ALIVE!!!" album where Mr. Stanley exclaims "DO IT!!!" It's my favorite moment from a live album ever because he sounds so damn earnest, like "DO IT" or else.

The Skit (Either takes place as a TV ad or radio spot):

"Hi, I'm Paul Stanley and I've got the solution to all your home improvement problems, baby! You just got to whoooooooo-wheeeee, DO IT yo-self!!! Say you got a leaky faucet and that shit is going all over the place. Just come down to Paul Stanley's "DO IT" Yo-Self Home Improvement Center and "DO IT!!!"

Yeah, I kind of go on and on with decks and sprinkler systems after that. I'll spare you. The thing is that you'd have to know what he sounds like in order to get this and even still you'd probably think I'm 'tarded.

Well...