Monday, July 16, 2012

To The Lady Wanting A Ride.

Just went to 7-11 to get eggs and there was a lady standing outside the store. She didn't say anything to me when I walked in but when I came out she very excitedly asked "Can You Take Me To My House??!!  Somebody Broke Into My House!! It's Just Right Over Here!!"

Well.. ok lady but answer me this:

Why are you standing outside a 7-11 if someone broke into your house? Did you run away? If so, why do you want to go back? If I know there are boogelers in my house I ain't going anywhere near it. I am hauling my fat hiney somewheres else and eating my weight in balogna sandwiches till I stop being scared.

Why aren't you walking towards your house if it's just "right over here?" Did you say to yourself "OH DEAR GOD THERE"S A BURGLAR IN MY HOUSE I NEED A SLURPEE!!!!"

No, probably not.

No.. the most logical answer is going to be that you are a "lot lizard" or in other terms..

A hooker. A lady of the evening. A prostitute. 

You wait in parking lots and then ask for a ride from unsuspecting gentlemen and large women that wear plaid. When you get inside the car you offer forth the terms of an agreement that concludes with them handing over their money or being killed by your "manager" or you yelling out the window that you are being molested.

I'm sorry maam. I can't do that.
I can't give you a ride.

It just didn't add up.

By the way.. if I'm wrong.. I am SO, SO Sorry!

Friday, July 6, 2012

Ode To My Drug Dealing Neighbors

Ode to my neighbors:

I see you, see you in the street
I see your head, I see your feet
I see you talk to passing cars
They come from places quite afar

I see you exchange this and that
I wonder "Goodness, what be dat?"
What oh what is going on?
You have nice cars
They be real phat

I see them come day and night
I see you get into a fight
Boom and bang
Smash and pow
I'm sure you don't follow Mao

I hope I hope, you get caught
I hope its soon I hope you rot
My neighborhood, has been ruined
By smackity smack and potty pot pot

Leave, leave and do it now
I'm having a fit and maybe a cow
You're scummity scum and dirty dirt dirt
You're in for a world of hurty hurt hurt.


Copyright 2012. All rights reserved

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Life After Heart Surgery

Well It has been such a long time since I updated this blog. I had an excuse. Seems I had a heart valve that loved me so much it wanted to surprise me... with leaving.

Now.. Lord knows I haven't eaten as I should over the years and I thought "Well, I guess it serves me right". Come to find out my arteries were so clean you could let a toddler suck apple juice through them. THIS little gift was a complication of childhood strep throat. yes, my heart has been damaged since I was 7 years old. The leaky heart valve has been waiting and biding its time, crouched down behind the couch for 40+ years just so it could turn the lights on and yell "SURPRISE!!!" That's some patience right there!

I can see it... crouched down for all those years, waiting and plotting, suppressing an occasional giggle and biding it's time until it could reveal itself.

Well dearest heart valve..IT WASN'T FUNNY.. but danged if I wasn't surprised.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Carbohydrates: A Love/Hate Relationship.

I've been feeling kinda bad the past few years. I could launch into a HUGE soliloquy of what was going on but I'll spare you, my dear reader.

Seems I have SEVERELY underestimated what carbohydrates were doing to my blood sugars. I don't know why I didn't make the connection.. well, I do too know. My brain was starving from my blood turning to sludge because of consistently high blood sugar numbers. I am apparently very susceptible to the sugar from carbs.(Ok, who isn't) but I'm not talking about taste, I'm talking about the effect on my body. I've been CLUELESS about this.. clueless I tell you! Yes, I can hear what you're thinking "THAT AIN'T THE ONLY THING, BUDDY!" but, please indulge me and let me continue.

I have cut out most carbs from my diet and in TWO DAYS TIME. I have been able to cut my insulin needs by more than HALF!! (No, I'm not about to try and sell you a miracle product.. "And you get this Cutlery knife!!" just pay separate shipping..)

I've cut bread, pasta, potatoes and anything else that looks like a carb and thrown then right out the window. I almost threw my dad out the window (I was on a roll) but my brother caught me just in time.

I'm still in shock over this. I was taking TREMENDOUS AMOUNTS of insulin. BIG Amounts! Other diabetics would scream in horror when I told them how much I had to take. Doctors would Gasp! My next door neighbor took off her blouse and flashed me! ok, I think my neighbor has a lil sumpin else a goin rotten in her medulla oblongotcha, but thats a whoooole different story.

The fact is, I've been able to make a great turnaround in 48 hours! If my feet hadn't been amputated from the ankles down, I could have turned around MUCH faster! Just kidding, I still have both my feet..and several other pairs from God knows where.

Anyway, Thats about it, Now, I think I MIGHT live past 50. (Barring natural disaster, Acts of God and any future Paulie Shore movies.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Torturing My Dog.. and other fun past times.

I want to give my dog, Baby, a bath. Baby does not like baths. Not many dogs do. They like smelly things. They like being smelly. I can take Baby on a walk and she will pretty much take my arm off to get to a dead squirrel 50 yards away. I had a distant cousin who did the same thing but fortunately he wasn't let outside much. In that moment, there is nothing more important than for her to flop over on her back and swish back and forth until she been assured that the aroma of death has properly taken its place in her pores.

I used to give her a bath once a week but she quickly decided she was up to the act of war I had declared upon her and was not going to agree to any treaty no matter how many doggie biscuits I waved in front of her. I almost had her with some baked chicken one time but she was decidedly quicker on the draw and retreated with the chicken leg and without any type of moisture anywhere near her person. Apparently smelling like a deceased animal is extremely appealing and us humans are missing out.

Once, I was able to outsmart her. She loves to go on walks.. especially in the nearby cemetery. Yes, cemetery. Again, death comes into the picture. Baby seems to have a morbid side. Every time I pull out her leash she starts dancing around faster than a widow women at a full gospel church during a revival. I slipped the leash around her and then took her to the side of the house where the water hose is. I was able to get her wet down and even got some shampoo rubbed into her coat before she realized I was barefoot. I can barely see the scar now days.

I have tried my best to train her and I've gotten her to the point where I can say "Get into the tub" and she will jump in. Now this only works if I already have her IN the bathroom with the door shut..and locked. I also had to make myself clear that I wanted her to STAY in the tub. It was a loophole I naively overlooked at first. After I thought about it a bit I realized that making her get into the tub on her own was akin to when your parents were going to spank you and would make you go find a leather belt or go cut your own switch.

Over all, Baby is a good dog. She knows several commands and most of the time ignores them completely but by golly she knows what they mean. I keep her around because she makes me laugh and I'm getting accustomed to the smell of dead animals.

Monday, April 25, 2011

More Cataract Surgery

Well, It's been a little over a month since dads last cataract surgery and everything has gone just peachy. He's down to one round of eye drops a day and he is so thankful that they will be over soon. What he has yet to realize is that the rounds for the surgery on his OTHER eye will start the day after we stop on the first one. He ain't gonna be happy.

"Mr Blinky" has gotten a bit more familiar with the drops and doesn't struggle near as much...granted he still complains about it but at least I won't have to tie one end of a string to his eyelid and the other to the dog while tossing the cat over to the dogs supper dish.

Not looking forward to the next month of all those eye drops but if he will simply stop scurrying behind the couch every time they are due, I'd be happy. The dog keeps looking at him as if to say "He wanna givz u a baff too?"

I just finished cutting his hair because he wanted to be all nice and presentable for his surgery. I actually think he just wants to present a dashing figure to the pretty nurses.

(Psssst...Give it up dad, you haven't got enough money and I don't want a stepmother. If she told me to clean my room I'd be obligated to kill her.. a lot)

We usually cut his hair on the front porch. I do this for two reasons..One, so I won't have to vacuum the carpet and two, the hair blows into my neighbors yard. It's funny because Mr Johnson is white haired also and I can hear him complain to his wife that he's shedding. When you're stuck inside a house as a caregiver, you go for whatever entertainment you can get. Repeats of Bonanza and Gunsmoke every 4 hours just doesn't cut it and I've seen Mary Ingalls go blind at least 325 times.

A couple months ago, he got hearing aids for the first time. I am most thankful for those. The only problem I have is that he wants to take them out two hours before he goes to bed. I know when he's done it because the television volume rises about 20 decibels and my computer monitor starts to head towards the edge of the desk from the vibration. Today he said "I'm almost all fixed up, all I need are new legs" I told him I'd start looking for some at Walmart.

All in all it's been a good experience. I'm just ready for his eyes to be healed so he can start telling the difference between the toilet and the clothes hamper.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Cataract Surgery

Well, ol dad has not been able to see very well for the past few years and he decided he wanted to have Cataract surgery. Actually it was not so much his decision as it was the Veterans Administration. He went in to get new glasses and they said he couldn't have new ones until he had the surgery.

He wasn't happy.

Seems my grandmother, his mom, had cataract surgery 40 years ago and it didn't go well. He was scared to have it done. We tried to reassure him that great strides have been made in the past 40 years but he would not be deterred. The doctor also tried to reassure him but to no avail. He was positive he was destined to be blind and forced to sell pencils in front of the Walmart.
Every day closer to the surgery I heard the same thing..

"I sure wish this surgery was over with"

By the time the surgery was slated to occur, I was wishing the same thing.

Ever had to put drops into a childs ears or eyes? Well, 84 year old men, aren't much different. I've now come to refer to my dad as "Mr Blinky".
You have to start with the drops three days before the surgery. Mr Blinky did not like the drops. He did not like them at all. He would shut his eyes repeatedly. He would turn his head towards the pillow and shout "NO!" He would say "I have to go to the bathroom first" and when he came back, His eye would be rested from all the exercise and ready to start blinking all over again.
I was getting ready to drag him outside and hook his eyelid up to the bumper of my truck and pull it open with a chain.

The surgery day came upon us and off we went to the hospital. We had to be there two hours early in order to do paperwork. The paperwork only took 15 minutes. He had an hour and forty five minutes to worry himself to death so he wouldn't have to go through with it. He did his best to make that happen but darn his luck.. he didn't have enough time to make that massive heart attack happen before they called him in.

They told me the surgery would only take 45 minutes. The time came and went. I was beginning to get worried. If something went wrong I would never hear the end of it. They finally called my name and I went back to see him. he was sitting up in a chair with a huge patch over his eye. His first and only words to me were "I want Red Beans, Fried Potatoes and Cornbread for lunch". I figured he was going to be ok.. except that it takes several hours to make pinto beans.. he wasn't going to get them.

The eye drop ritual continues in the days after.. in fact we are still fighting that battle. He has calmed down little bit since he has seen that the drops weren't going to burn his cornea off and LOW AND BEHOLD!! HE CAN SEE!...but he still wears the title of "Mr Blinky" proudly. Maybe its just me but his eyelid seems to be more muscular. It does it's best to bat those drops right outta the way.

We get to start on the other eye next month.. I already have the chain hooked to the truck bumper.

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I'm 50 year old man who prays he won't take anyone out with him when he finally loses it. Copyright 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012