The good news is that whatever nasty-ass infection I had on Friday seems to be completely gone, proving that even with blood the consistency of airplane glue from high blood sugar, my immune system still more or less works.
So, yay for that.
The bad news is that a new thing has cropped up – I am having trouble swallowing.
Right now it’s pretty mild, but still quite troubling. And over the last few days I have had some rather disturbing incidents where I went to take a drink of water either on its own or to take a pill and my throat seized up and did not want to cooperate at all.
Damn near choked me. And with no warning, either. I had no idea my throat was swollen at all. It didn’t hurt or anything.
I can feel the swelling now, though. And I ain’t happy about it.
Because it means I likely have yet another kind of infection. This is getting ridiculous. I am not a playground for contagious diseases dammit.
My only other potential symptom is that I feel fairly tired and it is making it harder than usual to concentrate on what I am doing.
But heck, that could be from not enough sleep lately. In both quantity and quality.
I probably should do something about that.
My funny pictures
It occurred to me recently that I have a standard fuckton of funny images I have accumulated over time.
This strikes me as a potentially useful resource.
So what the hell, I will toss a few into the ol’ blog-hole today and see if it can help me generate some content.
If it works, I might even have a basis for sellable articles. The kind of stuff that can draw the clicks and make me some extra cash.
But really, I do it purely for the love of the art.
Some people blame radiation for all the harm it does when the real problem is the radiation’s owner who did not properly discipline it.
Also, if he should offer to teach you something he calls “the electric boot scoot boogie”, remember to cross your arms over your head and scream “Damn You, Space Cowboy” just like you were taught in school.
Unfortunately, Motherfuckin’ Guido is the only one who can defeat Fantastic Dan permanently, and a consensus has yet to emerge on which is worse.
By the way, in case it isn’t obvious, these are real illustrations from airline passenger safety guides. Only the captions are new.
And frigging hilarious.
But I do care. I care a lot. Like, a very big lot. More than you, probably.
But remember, she’s more scared of you than you are of her, unless you’re a pussy.
Okay, I will do one more.
You know them sharks. Always be frontin’.
That’s enough of that for now. I love riffing but it does not help me hit wordcount real fast and I want to take a nap already.
Gives me fond memories of when I made a video every day.
I should do something like that again.
More after the break.
Fruvous the Magician
Okay, this is freaking me out.
Somehow, I have made a half-full 2L bottle of Diet Coke…. disappear.
One minute I was taking it out of the fridge, then something happened, then I looked around and it just was not there.
I don’t know what that “something” was, hence the pronoun. Something happened that interrupted my flow of consciousness and “reset” my brain, and then I looked around and could not find the fucking thing.
I looked all over the kitchen and nada. Spent a good fifteen minutes searching for that fucking liter of liquid. Still nothing.
And paranoid thoughts about how I have been spaced out and had trouble focusing all day percolate into my mind. Is there something wrong with my brain? Did I blank out for a second there and do something wildly counterintuitive with the bottle then totally forget I had done it?
It doesn’t help that I am currently reading this book.
But that doesn’t make sense. How could I hide something as big as a 2L bottle of pop in a kitchen as small as ours? Even with the sternest of determination, like I am a jewel thief stashing the loot while the cops are pounding on the door, I could not find a place to hide a 2L bottle in that kitchen that was not the places I thoroughly checked.
And yet, I am positive that at some point, I will go into the kitchen and there it will be, sitting somewhere totally obvious, some place I definitely checked multiple times, and there it will be, plain as day.
Either that, or one of my roomies will find it, and come to me saying, “You left this out, do you want me to put it in the fridge?”
And with frightening intensity I will cry out, “WHERE WAS IT!?!?”
And they won’t remember.
Both scenarios imply that there is either something deeply wrong with the fundamental structure of the universe or something equally wrong with my brain.
I can’t decide which is scarier.
Oh crap, it could be both! Maybe there’s something wrong with my brain AND reality! What if was is wrong with reality is messing with my brain?
Hell, what if it’s my brain issue that is disrupting the fabric of reality?
To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised. My brain is both mighty and canny. Messing with the fabric of reality is well within its wheelhouse.
Regardless, I really hope this shit resolves itself some time soon because it is freaking me out and I want that to stop.
Normally, when I am done blogging for the evening, I flop into bed for a nap. But tonight, I am probably going to take a trip to the kitchen first in order to search for the bottle of Diet Coke that now contains both 1L of Diet Coke and the tattered remains of my sanity.