Skip to main content

now with more disturbingness

so consensus is that this cough i have sounds awful and that it sounds like something considerably worse than what would generally be called a cold. it sounds bronchial. so on top of taking medicine to rid me of bronchii-related illness, i've had to return to my old friend the symbicort inhaler. it does a bang-up job of dealing with the bronchitis in the short term, because it's a type of steroid that forces those little airways open whether they want to or not. and the only side effect is that i feel like i swallowed a bag of cheap speed for several hours afterward.

so i'm no longer coughing very much, but i'm all like

HEY LET'S GO TO VEGAS AND PLAY CRAPS BECAUSE I FEEL LUCKY, EVEN THOUGH I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT CRAPS AND WHEN YOU KEEP SAYING CRAPS IT SOUNDS PRETTY AWFUL LIKE SOMETHING YOU'D DO ON A BET, WHICH IS FUNNY, SINCE YOU DO BET ON IT AND THERE'S DICE INVOLVED AND I REALLY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING MORE THAN THAT, SO I'D BE ALL "WOOHOO GO DICE!" AND I'D THROW THEM AND THEN I'D HAVE TO ASK THE DICE GUY WHO'S CALLED A CROUPIER, WHICH IS IRONIC SINCE IT SOUNDS LIKE SOMEONE WHO DEALS WITH THE CROUP AND I HAD THE CROUP WHEN I WAS LITTLE AND ANYWAY I'D HAVE TO ASK HIM IF THAT WAS A GOOD ROLL OR NOT BECAUSE I'D HAVE NO IDEA AND HE'D BE ALL LIKE "YEAH, YOU WON" AND I'D BE LIKE "AWESOME! LET'S GO GET HOOKERS AND BLOW AND LET'S RENT A FERRARI AND SEE HOW FAST WE CAN DRIVE IT BEFORE THE COPS COME AND THEN WE'D HAVE TO TAKE OFF FOR MEXICO BECAUSE THE COPS WOULD COME AND WE HAVE A RENTED FERRARI FULL OF HOOKERS AND BLOW EVEN THOUGH THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH RENTING A FERRARI AND HOOKERS ARE LEGAL IN LAS VEGAS AND THEY LEAVE THESE CALLING CARDS THAT LOOK LIKE BASEBALL CARDS EVERYWHERE AND YOU CAN PLAY THE LAS VEGAS GAME WHERE YOU JUST GO GATHERING ALL THE CARDS WITH YOUR FRIENDS AND SEE WHO GETS THE BEST ONES BUT HAVING BLOW IS STILL ILLEGAL SO WE NEED TO GET TO THE BORDER, BUT WE HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO GET TO THE BORDER, SO WE JUST END UP IN THE DESERT SOMEWHERE PASSED OUT AND GETTING A SUNBURN AND THEN WE'D HAVE TO COME BACK BECAUSE THE HOOKERS WOULD BE ALL LIKE "WHY DID YOU EVEN HIRE US?" AND WE'D BE ALL "THIS IS BAT COUNTRY! WE HAVE TO GET BACK TO LAS VEGAS!" AND WE'D HAVE TO DROP THE CAR OFF IN SECRET BECAUSE IT WAS REPORTED STOLEN WHEN WE DIDN'T RETURN IT ON TIME AND THEN WE'D GO BACK TO THE HOTEL AND ORDER A THOUSAND DOLLAR BOTTLE OF SCOTCH FROM ROOM SERVICE BECAUSE WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT A THOUSAND DOLLAR BOTTLE OF SCOTCH TASTES LIKE AND THEN WE'D GO "HEY, WHERE IS ALL THE MONEY WE WON? OH MY GOD! WE FORGOT TO COLLECT THE MONEY! WHERE IS THE TICKET? WE CAN'T FIND THE TICKET! DID THE HOOKERS TAKE THE TICKET? WE HAVE TO FIND THE HOOKERS AND GET THEM TO GIVE US THE TICKET!" AND WE WON'T KNOW HOW TO FIND THE HOOKERS, BECAUSE WE CAN'T REMEMBER THEIR NAMES AND THEN WE'LL REALISE THAT WE LEFT THE ROOM WITHOUT CANCELLING THE THOUSAND DOLLAR BOTTLE OF SCOTCH AND THEN WE'LL KNOW THAT WE CAN'T GO BACK THERE, SO WE'LL JUST KEEP GRABBING EVERY BLONDE GIRL WE SEE AND DEMANDING IF SHE HAS OUR TICKET EVEN THOUGH WE CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER IF EITHER OF THE HOOKERS WAS BLONDE AND WEREN'T THEY WEARING TOTAL HOOKERWIGS ANYWAY AND..."

which makes my boss look at me quizzically and say "i just asked how the advertising copy was coming. do you need help?"

and i say "uh, yeah. i'm working on it. but this is funnier than anything i'm going to write, even though it might have been written by an eight year old."



that's the state of my health right now. you're probably happier than usual that you don't have to be around me.

[thanks to dom for letting me know about the video above. and for putting up with me.]

Comments

as long as you're here, why not read more?

wrong turn

as some of you are aware, i have a long-term project building a family tree. this has led me to some really interesting discoveries, like the fact that i am partly descended from crazy cat people, including the patron saint of crazy cat ladies, that a progenitor of mine once defeated a french naval assault with an army of scarecrows, that my well-established scottish roots are just as much norwegian as scottish, and that a relative of mine from the early middle ages let one rip with such ferocity that that's basically all he's remembered for. but this week, while i was in the midst of adding some newly obtained information, i found that some of my previous research had gone in an unexpected direction: the wrong one.

where possible, i try to track down stories of my better-known relatives and in doing so this week, i realised that i couldn't connect one of my greatĖ£ grandfathers to his son through any outside sources. what's worse that i found numerous sources that con…

dj kali & mr. dna @ casa del popolo post-punk night

last night was a blast! a big thank you to dj tyg for letting us guest star on her monthly night, because we had a great time. my set was a little more reminiscent of the sets that i used to do at katacombes [i.e., less prone to strange meanderings than what you normally hear at the caustic lounge]. i actually invited someone to the night with the promise "don't worry, it'll be normal". which also gives you an idea of what to expect at the caustic lounge. behold my marketing genius.

mr. dna started off putting the "punk" into the night [which i think technically means i was responsible for the post, which doesn't sound quite so exciting]. i'd say that he definitely had the edge in the bouncy energy department.

many thanks to those who stopped in throughout the night to share in the tunes, the booze and the remarkably tasty nachos and a special thank you to the ska boss who stuck it out until the end of the night and gave our weary bones a ride home…

eat the cup 2018, part seven :: oh, lionheart

it all seemed so magical: england's fresh-faced youngsters marching all the way through to a semi-final for the first time since 1990. everywhere, the delirious chants of "it's coming home". and then, deep into added time, the sad realization: it's not coming home. oh england, my lionheart.

now, if we're being really strict about things, my scottish ancestors would probably disown me for supporting England, because those are the bastards who drove them off their land and sent them packing to this country that's too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. and indeed, shops in scotland have sold through their entire stock of croatian jerseys, as the natives rallied behind england's opponents in the semi-final. however, a few generations before they were starved and hounded from the lands they'd occupied for centuries, my particular brand of scottish ancestors would have encouraged me to support england [assuming that national football had even…