Feeling better.

So today my wife wants a dishwasher moved. I can't help. I'm on crutches. I try to get my friend to help over and over. I call, I instant message...the kids knock on his door, nothing. Well, she gets all mad and hyped up and says that she's gonna' move it herself. I laugh and think that I can't wait to see this.

The dishwasher isn't heavy at all. In fact, it's quite light. The wife is only 5'2 and not very strong. I'm thinking there is no way that she's taking this thing from the porch to the car. Well, I was wrong.

She heaves this thing up and it looks like it may rip her arms right out from her shoulders, however, she trucked that bad boy all the way to the car. I was then able to go out to the car, did I say go? I meant hobble out to the car and help lift it in the trunk.

There is no end to what people can do if they put their minds to it. I was very impressed. I didn't think she had it in her. She's a tough ole' bird!!!

So........kudos to you wife. You worked very hard today and got the job done.

Had surgery last week.

And let me tell you. If you can avoid knee surgery. Do it. It's not fun. In fact, it's miserable. I have been feeling terrible for a week now. No shower and I'm starting to get gross. My wife says she's going to help me take a bath tonight. Yes!!

Funny how you lose the ability to walk and the only thing you want to do it bath. I just don't want to smell. I have laid in this bed like a corpse in a coffin for a week. I'm ripe, pluck me!

On a side note...I've been playing the hell out of SocomII. Yes, I am a grand master again!

I did a test.

I did one of those silly tests. It was to see how old I acted. I wonder how close these results are.

I scored 16.


13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.

Unleashed the Krackens this weekend.

Oh, you don't know know what the Krackens are? Well, fine, I'll tell you. Remember an old show called Clash of the Titans? Well, I do. I grew up watching that baby on HBO. It was a show about Greek mythology. I loved it. In the show Perseus has to find a way to defeat the Kracken. The Kracken would come and destroy entire cities. He was a giant beast.

Well, a long time ago, a group of us started using this term when we would have to kick someone's ass. We all bounced in clubs and if we had to "release the Kracken", it would mean that we got to beat someone up. I would say shit like, "Don't make me get out the conk shell". That was how Poseidon called the Kracken. He would use a conk shell.

Back to the story. This girl comes and gets me. She's all frantic, like dumb people are when they see people getting ready to fight. She rushes me over to the pool tables. I see some douche talking shit to a black dude. Big deal. I separate them, yes by myself, and they both go their separate ways. Total pussy shit. They were playing the game where each person takes turns telling each other how tough they are. I call it the "I'll kick your ass, no I'll kick your ass game".

Anyway, I go over to this white guy and ask him what the problem is. He responds with this..."Ahh, he was just trying to pull some nigger shit on me". My eyes go wide. Ok, we are DOWNTOWN CINCINNATI. For anyone that is not familiar with the area, it's mostly black. There have been many race riots here and the race relations are not the greatest. For those familiar with the area, the club I work at is located in Over the Rhine. Yes, technically it's in that area. So, needless to say....This is NOT the area to be talking shit about black people, much less dropping a word like nigger all around.

I tell the guy that I'm not trying to hear that bullshit and to just back the fuck up and not fight. Ok, things are solved for the moment, however, a guy like this, in a place like this is but a ticking time bomb. Half our customers are black and he's a racist, how long you think this is going to last. You're right, not long.

I hear the call, "Party on the dancefloor". That's our DJ's code for a fight. I rush up and guess who's in this exchange. Yep, Mr. KKK himself into it with some black guy. He tries to swing on the guy and I grab him and choke the ever loving shit outta' him. You know, standard procedure. I then wack him a couple times with my fist. Not hard, just enough to get him to comply with my directives. You know, an attitude adjustment. He got drug out and left and nothing else happened. I just knew he would be a problem. Sometimes you can just tell that some assholes looking for trouble.

It was my last night working in the club. I have surgery on Thurs. and won't be able to walk for a bit, much less throw out drunks. I hope things go well and this surgery is much less painful than the last. My right knee was the worst thing I have ever had to endure.

Peace and anal grease.
Ronald McDojo

This is what drink I am. Sad huh?

Take the quiz:
WhAt dRiNk aRe yOu?

Milk
YOU ARE MILK! You like to have fun and hang out with your friends...but your not much of a party person. I mean...you like to have sum drinks every once in a while but its really just not your thing.

Quizzes by myYearbook.com -- the World's Biggest Yearbook!

Were you a fat kid growing up?

Is this your story?

http://www.catay.com/fatkid/

Ode to my sick children.

My child is sick,
yes it's true.

He and she's sick,
don't know what do to.

I feed them the meds,
like I'm supposed to do.

Nothing helps,
they still feel like poo.

Will they ever be well?

Will they not feel like hell?

At least they don't smell,
and stink of the flu.

My child is sick,
don't know what to do.

Do I really look like this guy?

This is me.


Chris is on the right.

Now tell me the truth, do I look like Chris Elliot?

My childhood.

The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery.

My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.

My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really.

At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.

Walk the Line

I just finished watching this movie. Pretty good. It was a love story. I don't understand what Johnny Cash was taking. Was it cocaine? I'm thinking it was, in the pill form.

I'm wanting to go get Donkey Kong...oops, I mean King Kong. I think I'll enjoy watching it. More so at home than in a movie theater. Imagine sitting there for three solid hours. Forget that.

I'm betting it'll be a one watcher. I have classifications that I have for movies. If it's a one watcher, that means that it's a good movie and you can see it once with no problem. In fact, I have many one watchers that I recommend. Now, if you can watch it more than once, it's a good movie. If you have to buy it, it's a must own. There are very few movies I can watch multiple times. I have some favorites though. My family knows what they are.....they get sick of me putting them in the DVD player, over and over.

What can I say? I love some movies. I've always been a movie buff and probably always will.