Let's all go to the med center!

Yesterday, I had to go to the medical center. Don't worry, i'm fine. It was a bit strange though. As a young daredevil, I spent an inordinate amount if time in emergency rooms all over Northern California. I built a bike ramp in 1989 that paid for at least one ambulance and a couple "CLEAR!" chest paddle shock thingies. I remember the smells and the people all too well. As an adult, it was like being in your grammar school cafeteria. Except the tater tot smell was rubbing alcohol and the jovial childhood banter was replaced with coughing and hacking. Other than signs banning cell phones, it was a little slice of my childhood and I embraced it warmly.

As I got to the counter, I was hit with the standard questions and issued the usual stack of papers to sign. The receptionist started to hand me his pen to sign everything, then suddenly yanked it back and motioned to a pen cup on the desk. I looked over at the cup full of pens with several hand-written signs taped to it and a box of handy-wipes. The signs said, "Please keep the pens germ-free and wipe them off!". I realized why this kid did NOT want his pen crossing the desk into the germ-ridden waiting room and I respected that. But the pen cup now terrified me. The longer I stared at it, the more aware I became of how long I was staring at it and my fear multiplied. What the fuck is on these pens?!? Finally, I shoved my fear aside and grabbed one. It was the daredevil in me. I signed the forms like a rock star and wiped my pen down. I am still waiting to find out what crippling disease I contracted from the pen cup.

The grocery store near my house has a little pharmacy, so I took my prescription there on the way home. The only person behind the counter was a long-haired guy with a creepy smile. I'm not against guys with long hair or creepy smiles, but he would be the guy on CSI that you think did it in the first 15 minutes, only to find out he was harmless 45 minutes later. My prescription was for antibiotics and when I handed it to him he said, "uuuuuhhh, hmm, do you need this tonight? Cause I don't think I can get it for you tonight.". I looked around the empty pharmacy and said, "uh, i guess not...". He leaned over and said, "Look, I can give you a couple to get you through until tomorrow." I blinked. "ok." He scurried into the rows of pills and came back with an orange bottle. He leaned even closer and motioned for me to lean in. He said, "alright, man. I'm not supposed to let bottles leave without labels. Are you going to be, uh, cool with that?"

Shadiest.

Pharmacist.

Ever.

I gave him the response that anyone would. I nodded and mumbled. He handed me the bottle and I bolted. I jammed it in my pocket, put my head down and walked past the security guard like a drugstore cowboy that just scored a bottle of dilaudid. It made me briefly regret not capitalizing on his loose moral standards. I don't know much about being a pharmacist, but if he could give me two, why couldn't he just fill the prescription? Either way, I drove home with two mystery pills in an unmarked bottle. Guess I should take one.

See you on the other side. *gulp*

Douchetooth

I know I have some misplaced anger issues and a hyperactive annoyance factor, but this is my blog and I can bitch about whatever I want.

Bluetooth Headsets.

In the car? Fine. In the grocery store. Douche Bag. In a bar? HUGE Douche Bag. You don't look cool and we are not impressed. You look like a complete tool. But you know what- keep it up. Hearing your douchy voice at full volume coming down the isle, blathering about fantasy football or the details of your last attempted date rape helps us identify you as a Douche Bag quicker. It gives us more time to blow snot rockets on your puddin' pops.

I would also like to comment on the pic above: This guy has several douchy things going on. Note the double ear rings, Oakley Wraps (upside down) and the 'popped collar'. Ugh. I would empty my nose on this asswipe.

I'm all for technology and the modern convenience of hands-free communication, but don't be a douche about it. Unless you're Lou Ferrigno or George Jetson, let's not clip the electronics to our ears, nnn-k?

To my design peeps...

This is what happens when you don't pay your web designer.

I love that the page name is "$".

NM- they fixed it. The page simply said, "This site has not been paid for. It will be back up when payment is received." Guess it worked. ¡Viva La Resistance!

SoCal Surf Wear

The 80s. Look at these idiots. I was too young to realize I was dressing like a moron, but these people are clearly old enough to know what they're wearing. The interesting part is that these clothes are called "SoCal Surf Wear" (in a funky-fresh font btw). Can you imagine the beating you would catch if you tried to represent at any local surf spot in Southern California wearing these pants?

Click the image for larger version.

An open letter to the car in front of me...

Go, man. Just go. Forward. Move forward. Don't be scared. You can do it. People do it all the time. There's people doing it all over the city, even now as we sit here. Am I part of some anti-forward protest and I don't know it? Are you sleeping? Are you checking your email? I could have disassembled my car, climbed over yours dragging the parts in my mouth one by one and reassembled it in front of you faster than this. We've been here so long I forgot where I was going. Maybe you are confused about the pedal system on your floorboard. Take a look at this diagram:


Seems like maybe you hate progress. Don't live in the past, man. Take the next step and pull out of this driveway oasis. Don't be afraid of change. If there weren't so many people behind me, I would back out, turn around and drive the opposite direction around the planet. Does sitting in a motionless car burn calories? Are you trying to say I'm fat? Are you waiting for everyone to get to their destination and then pull forward? That is incredibly polite but you are chasing an impossible dream. There will always be cars. You have to select a space in between them and introduce your giant SUV into the flow of traffic. Maybe you could hum the theme from Karate Kid for inspiration. Sometimes you have to sweep the leg. Please go. I tried to move your car through telekinesis, but I think I might have popped a blood vessel in my eye. You know, eventually the rubber in your tires will disintegrate. Then where will you be? I know where you'll be. In front of ME.

When the monkeys take over, I hope they kill you first.

Here's a boob. Go away.

This is my response to all the emails, phone calls and texts about the loss on Sunday. At least the bandwagon fans are gone for the time being.

*sigh*

Click the pic for a larger image. NSFW

Free Charger Tats

Propaganda Tattoo in Point Loma is giving away FREE charger Bolt Tattoos to true Charger fans on Saturday the 13th all day long!

Propaganda Tattoo and Piercing
3704 Voltaire St.
Point Loma, CA 92107
(619)226-6192

MySpace link

New Rules

From Bill Maher's new rules for 2007...

New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass and it translates to "beef with broccoli." The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high.

The rest are here

duh

Photo Zen

Great shot. I couldn't think of a clever caption, but I would have loved to see the look Marty gave Oben (#72) just as the ice cold Gatorade was cascading down his spine. Balls, man. Balls.