Monday, April 20, 2009

Days Of Thunder, And Neck Pain - or - Sad Day, Boy-O

I've had to take the last couple of days off of work because I krinked out my neck. I feel like batman when I move, or Frankensteins Monster, or Igor, or Godzilla. I can't lift my head or look to the left without receiving the sensation of being suddenly stabbed in the neck and shoulder blade with a carving knife, so I move my entire torso from side to side and up and down. For some reason, when I hold my neck with my right hand, I get more mobility and less pain, but as a result, I look like a stab victim from a B horror flick. All I need is a ketchup packet to ooze out from between my fingers while I'm grasping my neck. Wait, I've always enjoyed saying betwixt. Let me try that again. All that I desire, good sir, is a minute parcel containing semi-coagulated sweetened tomato paste that I could rupture and have the contents spurt and gurgle betwixt my digits, and then continue to percolate down my upper appendage, thus giving any unsuspecting onlooker the impression of a jugular laceration. Much better. Just saying that makes my neck feel healed.

In sad news, today I discovered that I am unconsciously dodging puddles in my boots. I hopped over a dozy on my walk to work (I went in for an hour, just like I did yesterday. My boss said, "If you are faking that pain, you are doing a good enough job that you deserve to take the day of on account of brilliant acting." How do you say no to that?), and side stepped another one that I would have, just months ago, tromped straight through without a second thought. It is indeed a say day, Boy-O, but I need me some new boots. I love these old mofos, but, like I said in my ode to my boots, they are going the way of all flesh. I'll record it and post the trauma. I've been thinking about getting a pair of cowboy boots. I've never even tried them on. I can't imagine that they will go with the head band. We shall see, fair maiden, we shall see.

As far as books go, I am quite happy to report that my book club seems to be successful, as two people have started reading suggestions I have made. I plan on picking up The Beach this afternoon on my trip to the pharmacy for pain killers. I want to slaughter my pain and bathe in it's blood. I'm putting The Beach officially on the stack of books by my bed. As it stands right now, I am finishing What is the What first, then I'll read Ovid's Metamorphoses (about which I just heard a two hour piece on NPR, calling it the worlds most inspiring poem to sculptors, painters, composers, and date rapists), followed by Krumbine's Explorers Of The Unknown: Vampires!, and then Oliver Sacks' book Musicophilia which has a chapter on perfect pitch named Papa blows his nose in G, then "11 minutes", and that's when I will get to The Beach. If you suggested books for TOBCAP, fret not, I will eventually get them onto the pile by my bed. If you have not suggested books, why the hell not? There is a bad ass list of books down there. What's wrong with you? Are you a book burning asshole? WEll, are you? No? Good. I do love book suggestions from people I love, and I guess that I'm admitting that I love you, just as long as you are not a book burning asshole.

In the spirit of all this love (and pain), I present you with my favorite musical duo on YouTube. Last year, Rhet and Link completed a cross country road trip full of ballads, rock songs, rap tunes and hoe-downs. They zig-zagged across this great nation, attending every chilli cook off, farmers market, edible festival and pie eating contest that this land has to offer, and then wrote a song about each of them. To prove to you that they are geniuses, the road trip was sponsored by alcheseltzer. The Great American Road Trip got me hooked on these two, but their newest project has me in stitches. "Custom-built, Micro-Budget Commercials for MicroBilt Customers". Enjoy.

2 comments:

  1. BigmackZach4:58 PM

    gotta love rhett and link

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  2. sweet memories.

    ReplyDelete