Old Personal News

(starting December 22nd)

Sunday, February 16th, 2003

So I got up around noon on Sunday. Went and got steaks and took laundry up to TPG's for a chat about the communication in his life. Came back home, and started planning for a Sunday night golf party. I cannot help my wrist pain, so I am going to challenge it. First spin on Golden Tee and my wrist stops hurting. Wow. But I know I'll be paying for it in the morning. Came home late, and slept late; definitely hungover, but NO wrist pain. I don't understand it either, but yay. At physical therapy, the weird exercise did make my lower back hurt, but was good otherwise. Beautiful gloomy weather this week. Home to sweep and mop the kitchen, and watch Howie Mandell on an Outer Limits with my rift. The bugs never bit, but the new link on my website mentions to go rent the movie "Enemy of the State", so I did. Good movie; scary message. I've been at the keyboard for hours now, and I should be writing if my wrist doesn't hurt. There are some strange, shifting forces at work here. Why do I deserve this new back pain? Another blurry Tuesday had 3 chores to do; pocket money, pay the power bill, and vaccum. Get this; Oregano took a break from eating his big yummy pumpkin to come over and grunt and wag his tail at me (generally you shouldn't bother any animal when they are eating; but when the animal STOPS eating to come over and say 'hello'--that's pretty cool). Got it all done, then went to win a dozen or so games of Southpark pinball. Wednesday had more physical therapy, with clam chowder before and after. Snuggle and tv with Static Girl. The bugs bit, so we went to play more Southpark pinball. Closed down Sam's, and came home to crash. Up to go get pocket money in the rain, groceries, and home. Grilled cheese. No Scrubs for 2 weeks in a row. After 9, the pinball bugs bit me. I remember getting 416 million on Southpark once before, but I don't remember the "Spooky Vision" bonus. Huh? Thursday night I got 'Spooky' 4 different times; got both a 380 and a 379 million game; still have to top that 400 million. Came home and stayed up for awhile, then went to bed. At 3 am Thursday night, part of our living room ceiling collapsed, a huge mess of water and yucky insulation everywhere. No sleep. Stereo and tv should be okay. Starting around 10 am Fri. maintenance came, roofers came, then carpet people came; are you as surprised as I am? The apartment people were very cool; putting us up for 2 nights at La Quinta Inn. Girlfriend bought me Subway, and I made it to physical therapy, then we checked in! Motels have changed recently. I went out for a short run of Southpark pinball; in only 2 cigarettes, I got 'Spooky' again! I have scores 2, 3, 5, 8, and 9 on that game, and this is all improvised! I'd have a billion, and 3 'Spooky''s if the left flipper worked correctly. Back to the motel early, slept early, too. Is this getting boring yet? Good; take your fat ass somewhere else. Waking up Saturday had both lower back pain, and horrible wrist pain; the wrist was throbbing. Hotel coffee, and then I came back home to dig through CD's, looking for anything by "James". I only have 1 song; "She's a star", on a Virtually Alternative compilation. Remember James? The song "Ring the Bells" was on an episode of X-Files. Oh well. Back to the motel to order pizza; I tricked Static Girl into buying it, too. And I decided that if I'm going to hurt anyway, I might as well play some more pinball. 5 more 'Spooky's, 3 of the top 4 scores, no 400 million though. Back to the motel room to eat half of a cold pizza, and bring on the Rolaid brigade. All-night heartburn, barely any sleep, and I did it to myself. Got out of the heartburn motel to come home to a dry carpet, mostly. Ceiling damage is much worse. But I've got the tv in my room, and I'm watching "Wacko's Wish" on the Cartoon network. Why can't cartoons be this good all the time? I feel like crap, bleah. Maybe I need a nap.





Sunday, February 9th, 2003

With my golf injury Sunday morn, I swore off golf for at least a week (place your bets now on what day of THIS week I will fold). Sunday night, wow, it's only 3 nights ago, and I have no idea. Monday has physical therapy, and then a neat pizza that I got to share with my girlfriend. After eating the pizza, I fell asleep on the couch; weird. So I went and took a nap, which wound up being an all-night nap, with lots of cough/hacking. Luckily, I felt better Tuesday morning, but a very important Monday element was missed. Tuesday I went back to the DES to give more paperwork to get some kind of assistance; no luck. So it's time to find pocket money, and then I got to wander around the Crooked Sky Garden--looking for my buddy Oregano. Found him, but he and his little buddies were busy. Off to Auto Zone to get Gus' 200,000 mile present: the Z-Max treatment. Then I got him a spray wash, too. Feeling good, I called Barney. He convinces me that I should come out and improvise my golf game (the golf poll winner was Tuesday night). We both won one, and good for us. I took care of him, and then went to play some Southpark pinball . Came home and slept well; with no major pain in my wrist Wednesday morn. So I went to buy stamps and Valentine's stuff, and to physical therapy. I'm kicking ass now, walking a mile at 2.7 miles an hour, and rolling on the big green ball. I've got to start losing some weight. Home to make ricey deluxe for my baby, yum, and after a great talk with Mom and a little snuggle...I went out for some more pinball therapy. Then comes Thursday, still trying to get some food stamps and a lawyer. What a newspaper; great comics, and the Tyson Foods court case about their employing illegal immigrants, man I was all fired up. Got Crooked Sky tomatos, cucumbers and more strawberries; checked in with Oregano, too. Got more healthy groceries, came home and made salad and ate 4 baby avocados. Great talk with TPG, and then I'm 316 million bound on Southpark. Home for Gran Turismo, then to crash and get ready for Dr. Bill Friday morn. Saw Bill, am fully changing over to Dr. Pirie, and the radio says that we are now up to the 2nd highest terrorist threat level; great. At physical therapy I have moved from 2 sets to 3 sets on every exercise. Static Girl and I dressed up and went out for a nice dinner, then came home and watched "Bourne Identity", which was okay but could have been so much better. I elected to stay in Friday night. Up early Sat. to take movies back, and then I wound up at the bar at noon, oops. Home before 4 pm, and I passed out. Up, kind of, around 8 or 9 pm. It doesn't matter, though, the stage is set for an old-fashioned all-nighter! Yes! I'm watching movies, I'm eating salsa, I'm talking to myself. I don't care about the back pain or the wrist pain, or whatever the present "ache of the moment" is, God Damn I love being me! I'm writing out a new Coffee Commentary, and brewing a pot at 4 am. What are you doing? Sleeping? Well, you're doing a great job--keep it up. How do I push a movie script? I've got the whole thing outlined; I can explain it in a minute. I'd like to play on my clipboard, but I can't write with my lame wrist. Forced to stay here; trapped on a keyboard; more coffee! Die, die, die all of you unappreciative, closed-minded, selfish little sheep.





Sunday, February 2nd, 2003

Super Sunday starts with 2 pretty top sirloin steaks and 3 loads of laundry at TPG's. It's a slow start to what would be a Bucs blowout. Halftime has me going home while Shania lip-synchs. Put clothes away, and I'm to Sam's to catch up with Al. What a party, and it would continue. Home to release fluids all over the place. Monday, therefore, has a slow start. To the awesome Dr. Pirie's to start my physical therapy--not quite. We're STILL trying to get it all approved. But she promises me that everything will work out. To Walgreens for drugs and milk, and home to Static Girl. Went to bed early, and I'm up to be productive Tuesday. Yes. Not only did we go and pet the cool pig, Oregano, but I was allowed into his pen--and got to play with him for a few minutes (avacados and garlic seem trivial compared to that). After pigpenning, I had the best quesadilla I've ever eaten--at the restaurant with no name. At home, it's tv night; Gilmore Chicks, UFO shows, and the Shield. Also wrote out PG-13. No food poisoning yet. Woke up Wednesday to get ready for physical therapy! (It's only 2 months late.) No big deal, and home to make funky rice for my woman. Outer Limits (we're all clones), a little snuggle, and I'm about ready for some barley and hops. -20 on Kiwi again, yay. Won games on both pinballs, too, then I came home for nachos. Up Thursday, SCF has my updated work dates, yay! And I'm getting a nerve conduction study (a what?) done tomorrow at 10:30 at the awesome Dr. Pirie's clinic. Went to go see my pig buddy, Oregano likes strawberries, and I ate some too--with no heartburn. Also got some pistachios. After an effective but frustrating mail run, I went and got 169 million on Junkyard pinball, and 362 million on Southpark. Home to eat raw jalapenos and cry; up early Friday for my NCS. Dr. Mike says that I definitely have some nerve damage (boo, Dr. Mike); we'll get the full report on Monday. Since writing my BRILLIANT commentary on PG-13 Tuesday night, Friday's newspaper has a story about the "murkiness" of our current movie ratings system. Back (get it?) for more physical therapy, and home. Later I would decide to go play golf with Al. Saturday we realize just how broke we are, and the plan becomes to get Gus' oil changed and air filter replaced; I ripped my thumb open, but we got it all done. PGA golf with Barney later, and then back to Sam's. Getting really broke now; poker change is next. Home for garbanzo clam chowder, and alien shows taped from the History channel. Up at noon Sunday with 2 hurting hands, but I've got pain pills.





Superbowl Sunday, January 26th, 2003
Oakland Raiders / Tampa Bay Buccaneers

Did 1 load of laundry last Sunday--the bare minimum to get by. And then it was my 2-game football Sunday; me + the Warped Tour. I opted to stay in, and later I got to watch my 2nd episode of "Jackass" ever. This is possibly the funniest show ever on tv, and the never-ending hockey fight had me laughing and crying. So then it's Monday, MLK Day, and not much happened. Talked to Mom, convinced Cheri to snuggle--after a really good Next Generation Star Trek, and I'm off to the watering hole. Met Tournament Matt, a true Golden Tee Superstar. 3 games with him changed my life. Later I came home for nachos and sleep. Up Tuesday before 9 am, no luck on the phone. I re-shelf-papered under the sink, yay. Stir-crazy, I left for the Crooked Sky Garden, where I made friends with the coolest pig ever, and went to a brand new Dollar store that was really nice. Stayed in and missed my UFO show, but then the Shield was pretty good. Trouble sleeping, but then again, we always have trouble sleeping. Wednesday I'm up early to go to my DES meeting. It took hours to find out that...wait for it...people are stupid. And they aren't going to give me any more money. No luck on the phone either. Static Girl made some cool kind of alfredo pasta thing, minimal heartburn, snuggle, and I'm off to research the pinball situation. Bad news; they brought back the same old, weak-flippered Southpark game (you can't even go up the multiball ramp). Back to golf; yawn, and then home. Pain, and trouble sleeping; I could write a damn book. Thursday morn we watched last night's good West Wing, and then went to the Crooked Sky to see my pig buddy, Oregano. He had a big pumpkin meal going, but he smiled and grunted for me a little. Home for clam chowder, Scrubs, and to calmly wait to die. Still waiting. Here's a prediction; I'll stay up late, and when I try to sleep I won't be able to. Wow! I'm like, clairvoyant or something. But on Friday, I spent 2 hours on the phone, getting my physical therapy organized. Why? Because the SCF stopped paying my worker's comp today. Those inept losers and liars at the Spine Center never told me that my therapy was approved, and so I'm supposed to be back at work already. What the fuck? Do you realize that EVERY step of this process with the Spine Center has been screwed up? And they take no blame, of course, that bunch of lazy cunts; hey, they might even be related to the ones that run these apartments. So it's Friday, and that means...what? A little snuggle, and I'm out to find Barney. The Spine Center still hasn't faxed back to Walgreen's, great. I ate some Domino's chicken--not bad. To the garden, and back to PGA golf at Pub + Grub. I rule; and then it's back to Sam's for golf with Al. Home for sleep problems, and then it's 1 pm Saturday. Rift and I go emission her car, and then road trip out to TPG's new Arby's. Wow. Then we're back home for the whole bag of peanuts, and Young Guns 2. Pretty soon, I must go play more pinball. 92 million on Junkyard. Home to crash; getting ready for the big game. Up at 10 am SuperDay; cleaning, coffee, and updating.





Sunday, January 19th, 2003

Sunday I went back to my favorite watering hole to watch football. Wouldn't it be fun to eat 6 Whoppers over a 24 hour period? Man. So I crashed hard Sunday night, which led to Monday. Turns out that I will have to start paying cash for my work benefits, since there is no income to deduct it from; great.
So I went and spent a couple of hours at the Dept. of Economic Security, trying to get more aid. What a circus. Anybody who DOESN'T believe that we need to streamline our breeding process should see what kind of people (with children) are applying for government money. And most of the women applying were pregnant again. I did not run screaming from this; I tried to understand it. It was hard not to shake my head in shame for the human race; seriously. I like to point fingers and pin blame, sure, but there comes a point when you realize that YOU are part of the bigger human picture--and the whole human picture needs a dose of common sense. I wound up looking down alot; I really was disturbed. I'm probably too intelligent to get any more aid.
So I came home and ate some of Static Girl's stuff; she put some soup on some rice, or something--elephino. She felt a little blah (more later), but I cheered her up and then...left her! Call it Twilight Zone therapy; it's the only therapy I'm getting right now. Came home to a flood in the kitchen (that I would get blamed for), and went to bed hungry. Woke to Fig Dish again, and started making phone calls. No help. I am almost apathetic now. Went for pocket money, and came home with Crooked Sky avacados for my awesome girlfriend; it's too bad that she's now sick (poor thing). Talked to Dad, to Mom twice, and spent over an hour on the phone with Emily (not Mom), and completely missed that my girlfriend had gone to bed. Tonight's "The Shield" is supposed to be the best ever; we'll see...The Shield was good enough--and definitely too good for network tv. Had trouble sleeping again. Wednesday had more of the same non-help from everybody. TPG has good news coming soon. After snuggling, I went and did pinball therapy--and Twilight Zone broke for the 3rd time. The game will probably be taken out now, even though it's making money. Thursday I went to the Dr.'s office and told them that I was not leaving until they helped me. After over an hour, I left, still with no help. I had to get out of there before I started screaming. Stayed in Thursday night to watch all the tv I'd been taping. Couldn't sleep again, but Friday mornoon the Dr.'s office called to say that they had called my SCA agent, and that this process usually takes 2 weeks (side note; today is the 14th day, wow). Girlfriend is sick and not happy. I tried to pamper her as much as she'd let me, and then...I left her. This was not a banner golf night, oh well. Came home early for food and bed. Slept till noon Saturday because I fucking felt like it. Girlfriend is a little better, but she is tough to amuse sometimes; macaroni. Tonight may need some pinball; hmmm. We avenged last night's poor golf performance with a great Saturday. Home early for garlic nacho potatos. Up early Sunday with some strong coffee. Laundry, grocery; lots of things to do.





Sunday, January 12th, 2003

Well, Sunday had phone time at least. Mom says to go for a second opinion on the whole back issue--a good idea. What else? Rift and I had about as big a disagreement as we have--pretty damn small. But the good news is that now we've already had a bicker in 2003, so we don't have to argue anymore for the whole year. Barney and I split 2 games of golf, and Twilight Zone is fixed! Eating 3 slices of heartburn-inducing pizza at home wasn't exactly a brilliant move right before bed; it took 5 Rolaids to get through the night. Monday I'm on the phone, still avoiding laundry, trying to find a 2nd opinion for my back. Somebody needs to beam over some underwear here. So, after a little smooching and writing out my first commentary of 2003 Joe Millionaire, on Monday night I went back to break Twilight Zone again (it was never fixed). Tuesday started with a whimper. After another day of no help on the phone, Rift and I open the wonderful Christmas packages from Iowa. CD clock radio, money, and games of free bowling ripped right off the box from some Banquet tv dinners. What a haul! Cashews, too. I felt kinda blah, though. Pinball seemed like such a good idea, but then I broke Junkyard, too. Damn. But the really bad idea was to eat a pound of cashews, later, as I watched the '92 playoff Bills' comeback over the Oilers on NFL's greatest games (3 a.m.). So I woke up (slowly) to the Fig Dish Toaster on my first day of CD wake-ups. Then it's last night's "Shield", and I'm cleaning house again--because nobody wants to help me on the phone. I don't deserve my wonderful girlfriend; the one who got me a race car VHS rewinder, a $75 gift certificate to Fry's, another $20 Blockbuster card, too, and some "Rift Notes" on Atlas Shrugged. And she did make me one of her beautiful purple books. I'm pretty sure she still likes me (she does), but I don't know why. Static enjoyed the clean kitchen, vaccumed floor, and the dinner choices I arranged for her (I'd make a great housewife, by the way). She helped me exercise my back a little, and then I called Sam (not "THE" Sam, but a Sam, at Sam's), and he said that both pinball machines were fixed. So I went and got another 2.5 billion game on Twilight Zone, ho-hum. Bill showed, so then it became a golf night. Then I'm home to watch West Wing with nachos and chocolate. Great sleep, and now TPG wants to go to Fry's--so we can look for a new case/motherboard/processor for me. Fry's was fun; too bad it's going to take at least $225 to create my new Frankenstein computer. I came home and tried to impress Static Girl with terms like "KS5", and "onboard sound", and "alternate video card", but she wasn't amused; damn. So; guess where I'm going? If you guessed "Twilight Zone", good job, that's a free scratch+sniff for you. After another ho-hum 2.5 billion game, I scored a 3.5 billion game; 3 doors away from being Lost in the Zone twice, thank you. It must be time for golf; -18. 2 Steve's and I flirted with the Rose. Then more pinball. Home for nachos and Scrubs; this is my life. Friday has...a little shopping, a great trip to the bank with Rift, good dinner, snuggle, and I'm off to pick up Barney for Friday golf. 4 played, and I ruled. Home for nachos; excited about the football weekend. Up early Saturday to help Static Girl get her car worked on; that's going to lead to a nap right there. I'm situated for the games by 5 pm, and then there's overtime, go Tennessee, and then the Eagles stomped the Falcons. Then it was 10 pm and time to come home. New pains running in both arms, it causes my wrists to twitch; very attractive.
Notice the lack of medical acknowledgement in this week's rundown; I want a second opinion on my back, AND they still have to approve my physical therapy, AND I have to get better, AND there will be a decrease in pain, OR I will not be going back to work, ever. Kiss my ass; I should have been in physical therapy 6 weeks ago. Delay in therapy = Delay in recovery; this is not rocket science.





Sunday, January 5th, 2003

Wow, who the fuck would have thought that we'd still be here now? There's all the sentiment you're going to get from me; hope you liked it. And now back to our romp. So my shit went up a day late last week, on Monday, and I was probably hungover; what a shock. Then there was Monday night football where the Rams played come-from-behind on the 49er's. Tuesday, New Year's Eve, started at noon, with intense back pain--always a bonus. Coffee good; painkillers weak. I decide to go deposit money and mail bills early (hey look at the fat guy with the broken ass trying to be all productive and shit). That was alot, so I decided to rent some movies, and go bother TPG at work (which means "get some cheap food"). So Rift and I watch Minority Report, finally, and it's good. We had a nice, quiet evening at home--which means my bar was closed. We celebrated New Year's on the floor, feeding frozen peas to the guinea pigs; like I said, my bar was closed. Then I'm the insomniac; after 2 hours of Dave Attell, I watched an incredible PSI Factor, then the other movie alone. It's called The Long Kiss Goodnight; Samuel Jackson and Geena Davis; wow, do you think our government really funds terrorists and blows our own shit up? Naaa. Now it's 7:30 am New Year's Day and I'm still up. More painkillers please, just don't tell my mom. I wound up sleeping, then napping, then going to bed early; cool, huh? UGA disposed of FSU easily, although FSU blew many chances. Up to take back movies and go shopping. Now home at 3:30, pain and suffering. More coffee, and a visit to the Darvocet bottle. In preparation for the Friday orthopedic surgeon's visit, I went out Thursday night and got hammered (talk about fuzzy logic). Friday mornoon I got online and e-mailed people, and then went to see the Dr.. This doc is all about "getting people back to work", boo. I saw my MRI pictures; I got to look at the fucked up L5 disc, and it is a wonder that I function as well as I do. Therapy is better than surgery for now, so we'll give it a chance. Rift and I went and got simultaneous haircuts, and even though I am not a big fan of short hair on girls, my girlfriend is such a babe that she pulls it off easily. My hair is the shortest it's ever been, which will allow me to drink my shampoo money. So I'm planning to meet Al around 9 pm. Still have not fixed my Twilight Zone game; those bastards. So I start on Junkyard pinball; my first game, warming up, I got 111 million; that's what I'm talkin' 'bout. Also got a -19 on Golden Tee; Al and I had a blast. We also had the deepest discussion possible; death, religion, scars, and human limitations--all in a loud bar, in front of the golf game, during the Fiesta Bowl on tv. We are educated and insightful drunks. Home for nachos and sleep. Coffee and leftover chili for breakfast, yum. Later I would watch Mr. Vick and the Falcons make history by beating the Packers in Green Bay. And I met pinball players Julie and Jason; Julie says she has Airport pinball at her house, hmmm. Sunday will have phone time and laundry.





Sunday, December 29th, 2002

Monday afternoon I'm back at Advantage Urgent Care. Dr. Leyva says that he's done all that he can do, and that I'm going to die soon; not. But now my world is up to the orthopedic surgeon and physical therapy. We'll get it figured out eventually. Shopping, pharmacy, steak, talked to the Iowa family, and it's time for recreation. Whataburger. Home to crash. Up Tuesday to let the piggies run free; why do they have to keep running under the bed? This is Christmas Eve? I'm going to the bar. Got my first 1 billion game on Twilight Zone; lit the door to get "Lost in the Zone", but never hit it, boo. Al and I went to Chantilly's; the bar that stays open on holidays for all the loser drunks. Later at home I talked to the Iowa family and cooked. Up at 9 am on Christmas Day, woo-hoo. I got motivated and went up to TPG's house for the festivities, which means food. Ham central, corn and mashed potatos. 3 Sportsnights, too. Stan e-mailed me, so I went home and talked to him for a couple of hours. Stayed in, stayed up late, and was up early Thursday for my unemployment interview; and they never called. So I went out. Ran into Al and Carl. Home to cook nachos and eat many Rolaids. Up at 8 am, bad lower back pain, and I'm out of coffee. Now what? A triple grocery run; Folger's Gourmet Supreme, football, early Barney, damn--I forgot to eat pain pills. Friday night therapy with Al and Ron. For the record:

The Twilight Zone pinball machine does not record scores or initials. But I got Lost in the Zone, won it, and got a 367 million Zone bonus--the game called me "Lost in the Zone Champion", but again--the machine doesn't record initials. The final score was just over 2 billion. I was happy; and I have now completed the journey that was brought forth for me (Imagine if somehow I could get a "Getaway" pinball machine in my neighborhood). While we're here talking Twilight Zone, I've been working on this Pinball Commentary for 2 weeks. For the record; Twilight Zone shows up on a Saturday, and a week later I am the Zone Champion. Thank you.

Saturday we cleaned up the house a little, ate lunch with TPG, did a Wal-Mart run, and we cooked for the girlfriend's return. Went to pick her up, and her flight was only 10 minutes late. Now we're home. She appreciates the cleaning, and she wanted sleep. I stayed up till 4 am, eating almonds and watching (the funniest ever) Insomniac (in Nashville) with Dave Attell, and then Southpark. Up at noon Sunday; pretty good football. Twilight Zone sound effects are still running through my brain. My back hurts. This is going to be a very low-impact Sunday.





Sunday, December 22nd, 2002

I went and purchased some nice ribeye steaks for me and narul; we ate, did 2 loads of laundry, and watched 2 Sportsnights. I wound up at Sam's, which led to me and Al going to Gallagher's. Monday I went back to the Urgent Care Center. They want me to go get an MRI, so I would go and do that Monday night. Static Girl cooked great pasta; it's not her fault that I forgot to take my Rolaids with me. And somebody should have told me that (for an MRI) I'd have to lie still for 40 minutes with a big wall in my face, but nobody did. So there I am, trying to lie still with heartburn, an itchy nose, itchy everything actually, on a cold table, with opera music playing, about to be crushed at any second--like an ant under an elephant's foot. Both legs went to sleep, arms too (all the way up to the shoulder), and laying in that position probably didn't do much for the whole "recovery" process (getting up afterwards brought an onset of new pains to the table--thank you). But I did it; I was statue still, baby. And then I came home and bragged about it. Tuesday morning I finally talked with State Fund Workers Comp, yay. The ball is rolling. Pocket money was a zoo, but I made it through. Come home to call Dr. Leyva to find that I have a herniated disk with pinched nerves on both sides. He says it's bad, he says it will probably get worse, he recommends a back specialist, and he says "not even" about a plane ride to Iowa. Thank goodness Static Girl was right there, or I might have started cussing about this bunch of shit. And then my Mom agrees with the Dr., which I guess is to be expected. So now I'm not going to Iowa; and I was ready to go to Iowa. I was going to be good, and dress nice, and have manners, and be part of a real, middle America "Norman Rockwell" Christmas. Well that's all shot to hell. I was going to have a "dry" Holiday (no booze, no smoking, limited pharmaceuticals), yeah well, NOT ANYMORE! And my horoscope said to have dinner with a friend, so I went up and ate at TPG's Arby's while he worked (and I do like the big, soft Arby's booths). I stayed in Tuesday night like a good boy. Wednesday I called the Orthopedic doc early; I'm set for Thursday. Hump day was meant for shopping. Arby's lunch, too. Gel insoles for stiff shoes, and home to greet Static Girl. Behind the Music with Pat Benatar. Good snuggle, and I'm off to split games with Brent. Back to Sam's, and then home for nachos. Thursday morn here, may help TPG get a tree (which means HE'LL put a tree in my van). I have an ICA# now, too. Yay...All the doctors are in surgery, so no ortho for me, bro. But now I know where the unemployment office is. I'll wind up eating black bean, garlic-hot-sauce, clam chowder before I go play Golden Tee, coz I'm cool. By the way, leaning on a pinball cabinet or golf game feels really good--takes pressure off of my back. But do you want to know what I want?

I need a me, a ME, a W.C.; I need an Overnight Guy who can stand 60 yards away and consistently drop frisbee throws in my lap for an hour; that's what I need. My current lack of mobility won't hinder my THROWING; I can throw a frisbee 60 yards while sitting on a barstool (Nice visual, huh?). I just don't have any superduper accuracy junkies to throw disc with out here. I can't run, trot, or even walk to catch an "okay" throw (one or two steps is going to be my max), I NEED some stomach-high, right handed back-hands thrown RIGHT TO ME. All of a sudden I am a fan of cloning; me first, me first, now!

Well that was a fun little tangent. I had a list of shit to do on Friday, and I got it all done, thank you. Static Girl brought home salad and cornbread for me, wasn't that nice? Double snuggle, and we wrapped presents together; how romantic. Good sleep Friday night, and we're up Saturday to get Rift to the airport. We did. And then I'm home, calling Barney. We meet up after his short shift, strike out, and wind up splitting games. Took him home, and back to Sam's; that's when I noticed it...

Arabian Nights pinball is gone; Junkyard is still there--which is amazing all by itself, but sitting next to Junkyard now is a little pinball machine you may remember from the 1993 PAPA tournament called "Twilight Zone". I almost cried then, and I am crying now. The game is set to be difficult, both flippers are very weak, and you can't read the back screen clearly, but I'm not complaining. The game eats my money fast, but that's okay. The Jackpot is obnoxiously loud (cool); I have won a few replays, and got an 800,000 game, but no billions, and no "Lost in the Zone" yet. This machine is hard; I predict no billions for anybody but me. Wow, I have (no less than) 2 TOP-20 pinball machines, EVER, in a bar that's a half mile from my house; I'm Mr. Happy Guy. In fact, I may change my damn initials to MHG, just FOR
Mr. Happy Guy.

So I played it Saturday night until they threw me out. Came home with a big smile, crazy flipper fingers, and singing Twilight Zone. Stayed up until 4 am, and when I woke up TPG tried to convince me that it was Sunday. He's so full of shi--wait a second, it might be Sunday. Damn. Slowly I got motivated and over to Barney's. Road trip, and back to the Half Moon Sports Bar for THEIR PGA golf. It's better than the other, and has more courses. Beat him twice. Then I took Brent home, and (Gee, where do you think I might go now?) it's back to the Twilight Zone. I won a few games, but still put $5 in it (never have I been so happy to feed quarters into a machine). The cabinet is great for stretching my back too; that's like, a bonus. After a couple of hours I came home, still humming some Golden Earring song. Bed by midnight, maybe, and now it's Monday morning, hearing "Twilight Zone" on a continuous loop, over and over and over. You probably think I'm kidding. "...when the bullet hits the bone, ah AH AHHH, when the bullet hits the bone." Some people might call this "addictive behavior", naaa.







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