The wall...

I'm tired.

This past week has been more than a drain. It certainly has been filled with both highs and lows. But my last post only really highlighted the lows so I wanted to shed some light on the highs before I pass out into a halucination-filled coma.

I dont mean to be tellin' tales outta school, but theres a man in there'll pay ya $10 to sing into a can.
I was on the radio. Monday, I think. Or maybe last week. Time and my grasp of it are tenuous at best right now. Anyway, the local radio show was talking about online dating and this new online dating site called Bootycall.com or some such nonsense and Raquita decided to call in. You see, gentle reader, if you werent yet aware, I met my wife through these same interwebs that I know pollute with my nasty nasty viral thoughts. We courted for about a month and a half via email before I got up the nerve to call her and see her in person. That first date at the art museum has now lasted 5 years as we've never broken up (When you win the lottery do you spend all your cash on the chance that someday, that massive jackpot might be surpassed and you can win THAT one?? HELL NAW! I won the lottery with Raquita. I intend to stay rich and fat!). Was it love at first sight? Nope. She thought I needed the gentle touch of a strong woman who wasnt afraid to roll up her sleeves and get dirty. I thought she had a big head. But through our emails, we had gotten to know each other pretty well, and the first meeting and her attempting to seduce me with her talk of 'I dont normally do this but....wanna come back to my place?' pretty much sealed the deal. Um...I had a point.

Oh yes. The Radio. So anyway, she's talking on the phone, live on the radio, and me, being the humorous fellow I am, start shouting 'Help! Help!' in the background. They hear this and ask to speak to me, to make sure I'm not being tortured. It went kinda like this.

Radio Personality: So you guys met online and got married? How did that go?
Me: Well, I had an add in the paper, an old add that said, 'On a scale of 1-10, Im looking for a Q'. Her poetry stage name is Queue so she naturally wanted to know what was up. We traded emails and bad poetry (my bad poetry) for a month or two before we went on our first date and that first date has lasted almost five years. We got married last year.
Radio Personality: Aww! Thats real nice, man. And you guys are happy?
Me: She's sitting right next to me! Of COURSE I'm happy! What you think I'm gonna say??
Radio Personailty(chuckling): Well, have you heard about this Bootycallonline.com site? Would you ever have gone on something like that if you were single?
Me: Nah...probably not....Im pretty much an old school kind of guy so I would probably stick to my old tried and true methods. You know, Begging.
Radio People Crack up and cut to commercial.

Raquita thought I was funny. I thought I was pretty funny. Maybe I'll be on the 'Best Of' radio shows that they air when the Radio people decide they've got to go back to Cancun for vacation. But still, it was pretty sweet. Plus more proof that, if put on the spot, I can NOT make an ass of myself for short periods of time.

I hate hospitals:
I do. I truly do. They drive me nuts. There's something about that generally aniseptic smell, the mean, bitter nurses, the horrible food, the gremlins that run around, laughing from the dark, unlit corners in the hallways.

Wait. What?

Okay. Did I mention Im going on 6 days with about 3 hours sleep each? Im pretty much hitting the fucking wall here, people, so forgive me if I ain't William fuck your mother Shakespeare right now. Im trying.

Where were we?

Oh yes. So we took my mother to the hospital monday. She didnt want to go. OF COURSE she didnt want to go. But we had no choice. She cant walk. She cant hold anything down. Shes getting better now, though she's mad that she's there. She can be mad at me all she wants. She can hate me all she wants too, but Im not letting her go that easy. Not this time.

That doesnt sound like a good thing, but really it is. She needed to go. I needed to take her. She can get the help she needs and we might be able to fight this demon that has it's clutches on her. God Willing.

BARBECUE SAUCE! I love it!
I love Sweet Baby Rays Hot 'N Spicy Barbecue sauce. The stuff is golden buttered crack in sauce form. I had some ribs at lunch but since I ate the ribs and still have a nearly full jar of sauce, I've taken to just putting a dollop gently on the tip of my index finger and rubbing it into my gums like a fiend trying to get a fast fix. Then somebody at my job tried to say that Mauls was as good as Baby Ray and I had to go off. Baby Ray would take Mauls down to the beach to show it a good time, but then leave it crying in the sand, having beaten the tar off of it's behind in a drunken rage.

Um.

I think Im going to end this post now. It's just going downhill and Im having trouble seeing the screen.

Ciao Cow!

Benticore
Out(but not out!....yet)