oooooohhhhhhh, so that’s it! In reference to my earlier post about strange guys sitting in their cars for no apparent reason, it turns out that there actually is a reason:
“They’re cruising each other for gay sex. No, seriously. It’s one of those things we had to learn in our manual, like gaydar and how to match clothes. Trust me on this one.”
Thanks to Ern for kicking-down the info.
I have a high tolerance for pain. This is not false bravado or manly chest-thumping.
OK, it is a little bit, but I really do, I’ve been told so by doctors as they’ve wrenched my various broken limbs back into place. This is not an invitation to walk up and punch me in the face. I may be able to weather the impact, but I’m a bleeder, so don’t hurt me.
I’m sure there was a point here somewhere. Ah yes, having this high tolerance, I often ignore injury and discomfort for far longer than I should. I’m also of the if-I-don’t-find-out-if-I’m-dying-I-won’t school of thought, so I’ve got that going for me, too. Growing up, I would never tell anyone I was in pain, until it became either patently obvious, or just too hard to resist. I never wanted to take any kind of medication (antibiotics, decongestants, Tylenol, the like) as I felt that if I did, I would develop a resistance to them (I still think that). Therefore, I needed to save up for when I was going to really need it. It never occurred to me that if I actually did have some sort of catastrophic accident that I would be willing to take a pain-killer for, it would probably be something that required a hell of a lot more oomph than Tylenol.
So, that was then, and what about now? Well, I complain more, now, but still haven’t learned to do anything about it. I’ve been milking a splitting headache for the last several hours and have done nothing constructive about it except worsen it by staring into this computer screen. OK, that’s not entirely true. A few minutes ago I swallowed my pride and took some Excedrin PM. Strangely enough, I know someone else who has an aversion to medicines, but I don’t know what her rational is. Err, any further point I had is going out the window with the sleep inducing Excedrin PM. THat’s the other thing, by the way, when I finally do take these modern witch doctor potions, they make me loopy…
I just came back from playing basketball, and I was listlessly flipping channels as I let my muscles stop singing. I stopped momentarily on Access Hollywood where they were heralding the genius of Josie and the Pussycats, mainly because it’s apparently more than just an adaptation of the comic book. So. Much. More. The very beautiful Tara Reid punctuated the point with this inexact quote, “I mean, the cartoon was only 1-dimensional, and we’re so much more, we’re 3-dimensional people…”
sigh…
Flipping around the dial (do the younger generations even really know what we mean by “dial”?) the other day, I stopped momentarily on Comedy Central where a somewhat entertaining movie, The Road to Wellville was showing. I only stayed with it for a minute or two, but in that time, some character I don’t know said something that I felt was so quotable I wrote it down:
“Follow your heart. It’s the one organ that will surely let you down one day, so don’t waste it while you’re living.”
I like that.
Damn I’m popular. Jeff wrote me an awesome e-mail about stuff. You are all, of course, insanely jealous. Here’s a snippet:
Signs in the cemetery read “Mark Twain —->” and point the path to the grave. It’s amusing, probably only to me, to stand next to one of those signs (on the arrow pointy side) and have someone take a picture – in effect, producing unarguable film evidence that you are, in fact, Mark Twain and not the person people keep calling you by.
Below is a rad e-mail I got from one of my countless fans:
Hey,
I was thinking that your pix make you look feckless and dissolute – like Robert Downey, Jr., just before the fingerprints get rolled.
feck�less (fkls)
1. Lacking purpose or vitality; feeble or ineffective.
2. Careless and irresponsible.
dis�so�lute (ds-lt)
1. Lacking moral restraint; indulging in sensual pleasures or vices.
2. Loosed from restraint; esp., loose in morals and conduct; recklessly abandoned to sensual pleasures; profligate; wanton; lewd; debauched.
Yeah…that seems about right.
I live and work in the Silicon Valley where the nerd-to-woman ratio is 7-to-1. Maybe that explains why, when walking down the street, I see an inordinate amount of guys just sitting in their cars; not eating, not reading, not sleeping, just sitting as if afraid to leave the cocoon of safety their vehicles afford them.
Or maybe they’ve just been laid-off and don’t know where to go…I dunno.
I’ve added a few more Other Blogs [links] in hopes of soliciting some more reciprocal hits.
I’m. Such. A. Whore.
hmmm… 
Thanks to Meg for the picture…err, the one on the right.
Excerpt from a hilarious post over at druzblog:
“It’s too bad that the same treats aren’t a universally effective persuasion tool for any animal whether cats, dogs, horses, or people. How simple life would be.”
Check it out for full humor impact. It actually brings up a valid point and somewhat mirrors my own theory where we are all eventually fed through intravenous gruel…
