google search oddity

I can understand almost all of them:

why men have nipples, why do dogs eat poop, etc…

but the “why is there a dead Pakistani on my couch?”  who the hell asks that question?

 

Why I love her…

NB: I wrote this 2 years ago in May.

I just had a very pleasant surprise. Today is our 13th wedding anniversary and I have to work late. Long story but the short version is everyone else is leaving early or is off sick and I am stuck here at work. Which both blows and sucks at the same time.

But I just had a very pleasant surprise. I was walking back to the office from McDonalds with my pathetic lunch from their “dollar value menu”, which is just crap but it’s cheap, and I happened to look and I was surprised and startled and thought to myself “that looks a helluva lot like Erin. Nah it can’t be because she NEVER comes into DC.” Sure as hell though, it was.

She rode the metro and came into DC to see me. She shared my pathetic lunch and gave me the anniversary gift she bought for me. A really cool digital photo frame filled with pictures of her, the ladies, and some of my aunt and uncle and my favorite places in CA.

This is why I love her…little things like this. She is 32 weeks pregnant, the stopping and starting (herking and jerking) of the metro makes her nauseated but she still came downtown to see me.

 

What do you see behind these eyes?

Well mine aren’t blue (they do change color somewhat depending on my mood which I am told is kinda cool) but the song really tells how I feel a lot of days.  I am not sure if I’m a bad man, sad man, happy man, lover, fighter, what?  You tell me.  What do you see?  They say eyes are the windows to the soul.  What do you see in my soul?

“No one knows what it’s like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes

No one knows what it’s like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies

But my dreams
They aren’t as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That’s never free

No one knows what it’s like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you

No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through

But my dreams
They aren’t as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That’s never free

When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool

If I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat

No one knows what it’s like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes “

The Who

 

Nasally Violated

I keep getting ear infections. The one I am currently “blessed” with makes number 2 this year and is my 4th one in 6 months. So I finally took the advice of my primary care physician and scheduled an appointment with an ENT (ear, nose, throat) specialist.

The day of the appointment came around and I strolled into the office. Ahh how lovely…just like all of the other offices around where I live, stuck in the early 80’s. Paneling, threadbare carpet, uncomfortable chairs….sigh…I checked in, filled out the forms and finished my paperwork 5 minutes before my appointment. I sat down and waited….and waited….and waited…and waited.. and waited….an hour and a half.   There is getting behind and then there is ridiculous.

I am lead to the exam room or “scene of the crime” as I like to call it. I am asked to sit in the chair and wait for the violator, I mean, doctor. The doctor comes in. He seems nice. I remember his hands were soft. He had a nice voice. He checked my ears, confirmed I had an infection — duhhh.. Then said he needed to check my nose. Ok, no problem.  He left the room and came back with IT. It was a monstrosity made of flexible hose the likes of which I have never seen before. He connected IT to a machine that was in a hidden cabinet. And began to shove IT up my nose. He kept telling me to breathe normally and relax.

“Breathe normally and relax? Breathe normally and relax”? Right…there is a tube the size of a vacuum hose up my nose that he is beginning to shove down my throat — through my nose — and he wants me to relax. The only thing missing from this picture was him stroking my hair and telling me “how pretty I look.”

I’ll never be clean again.

 

DC Sniper denied stay of excecution

http://dcist.com/2009/11/supreme_court_denies_snipers_reques.php

I really don’t know how I feel about this.  At the time I was living across from Tasker Middle in Bowie when they shot the middle school kid.  30 min earlier and my daughters school bus would have been going past there.   As a good Catholic the death penalty should be wrong.  But as some who had to live through the fear and terror, I don’t.  I really don’t know.  I remember being afraid some days to get out of my car to get gas or to walk from my car to the store.  I remember be especially afraid for my wife and kids.

I  do know that whatever happens he is sure to find his terminal justice Tuesday evening.

 

All glory to the

http://r33b.net/
I love futurama..

This is soooo funny.

 

“not pretty enough for country music”

I said that to my wife the other day.  She was watching CMT and the Country Music awards came on.  I watched the first 15 min or so and realized that there was nothing but pretty people in attendance and pretty people singing.   I said to the wife “I am not pretty enough for country music anymore.” Country music used to be about ugly people driving trucks, drinking beer and crying cause their woman done left them.  Now I can’t tell the difference between Country and Pop.  Apparently I am not alone AND I am in good company:  http://bit.ly/1aFRzB

I would trust George Jones knows a thing or 2 about country music.

 

 

my rock aka SWMBO

I met my wife at college. Let’s call her SWMBO (she who must be obeyed)…. the woman who hated me at first. But after 6 months of dealing with my drunken antics accepted my offer of a date and here we are, almost 18 years later and still together. We have been married for almost 15 years, it will be 15 in May and you know I wouldn’t change a thing.  She puts up with me, deals with all my shenanigans and weirdness, and knows all my secrets. But the biggest thing is this: she finally got me away from them and taught me how to be my own person. She was there when my dad called me and told me that I had to come over and “mink oil his boots.” When I said no and he started to pull the “you need to get your priorities straight” shit, she gave me the courage to stand up for myself. She stood by me even when after we had a fight and I wrecked my car and my step-mother told her I didn’t want to talk to her. Several periods of long distance relationships — she went home on break for 3 months, 2 months after we first started dating. Then she graduated, and I still had the summer and all of fall semester. 6 months. And she came to see me every month.

She is my rock and I wouldn’t change that for the world and nothing in this world would ever pull me away from her.

 

Parents: are they like cholesterol?

They come in both good and bad varieties and both kinds can kill you, depending on how much they clog up your life.

I think the jury, at least for me, is still out on that one. When I was growing up and was young and foolish I thought my father could no wrong. Oh how wrong I was. It is always difficult when the people you admire the most turn out to be the most flawed people in your life. You spend your formative years trying to emulate then. You copy their every move, their mannerisms, their way of thinking, and then you discover that you have been copying a broken model.

It can be, and is, quite traumatic. Everything you believed and lived for turns out to be a lie. And is there any remorse or regret on their part that they lead you on and let you do this to yourself? No, none. Not a single word of apology. Nothing. I think the problem is that they have lived their lies for so long that they believe in the reality of the lie not what is the real reality.

How can you get justice, some sense of retribution for a life wasted following a false dream? For so many years wasted and lost — a cousin that was born, lived and lost to cancer that you didn’t know about. An uncle, that it turns out, is one of the most interesting people you’ve ever met. An Aunt that holds the key to unlock the mysteries of who your mother was and the “curiosity” surrounding her early and untimely passing. Missing the last years of your grandfather’s life. All people kept from you because THAT man said they were bad for you and wanted to destroy “his” family.

There must be some sort of cosmic justice isn’t there? I would like to think there is. My dear readers you really need to be careful of karma. He turned 60 last year. He suffers from early onset dementia. He has had multiple strokes, multiple heart attacks, has huge amounts of “white matter” in his brain — his doctor says its the brain of an 85 year old. He can’t stand up for more than 10min at a time because his heart only works at 15 to 20% efficiency. He lives near his other son.

The question you’re asking yourself right now is, “My god, aren’t you at all sympathetic to how sick you father is?” I am sorry he is that sick. I am sorry because I can’t tell him exactly how I feel about him and have him understand it and remember it forever.  I have made my own peace with him. I have forgiven him for doing what he did to me. Will I ever forget? Never. I will never forget what he did and made me lose.  I don’t hate anymore.  I am too tired and it takes too much energy to hate that much for so long.  And in the end I ended up poisoning myself and never got the revenge I wanted.

 

A rare smile…

I have over 80GB of MP3’s.  Everything from The Kingston Trio to Dean Martin to Rage Against the Machine and everything in between.  I have my iTunes on shuffle and it just hit a song I haven’t heard in years.  I love this song.  I love to sing along and what makes that even better now is that my off key caterwauling annoys my kids.  Ausgezeitnet!

Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right – Bob Dylan

It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe
It don’t matter, anyhow
An’ it ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe
If you don’t know by now
When your rooster crows at the break of dawn
Look out your window and I’ll be gone
You’re the reason I’m trav’lin’ on
Don’t think twice, it’s all right

It ain’t no use in turnin’ on your light, babe
That light I never knowed
An’ it ain’t no use in turnin’ on your light, babe
I’m on the dark side of the road
Still I wish there was somethin’ you would do or say
To try and make me change my mind and stay
We never did too much talkin’ anyway
So don’t think twice, it’s all right

It ain’t no use in callin’ out my name, gal
Like you never did before
It ain’t no use in callin’ out my name, gal
I can’t hear you any more
I’m a-thinkin’ and a-wond’rin’ all the way down the road
I once loved a woman, a child I’m told
I give her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don’t think twice, it’s all right

I’m walkin’ down that long, lonesome road, babe
Where I’m bound, I can’t tell
But goodbye’s too good a word, gal
So I’ll just say fare thee well
I ain’t sayin’ you treated me unkind
You could have done better but I don’t mind
You just kinda wasted my precious time
But don’t think twice, it’s all right

http://www.bobdylan.com/#/songs/dont-think-twice-its-all-right