Thursday, July 27You're Sick, Dude.
I'm sick, dude. As you may remember, I tweaked my back some time ago.
"When was that?"
Oh, I don't know, about a weak back. Damn, that's funny.
Anyways, it's slowly healing and I've been taking proper precautions as to not obliterate it again. As someone who likes to stand, walk and handle a fork without assistance, I'm doing what I can to make sure I maintain that sort of lavish lifestyle.
However, I'm no Superman (insert your own Christopher Reeve joke here). In fact, I'm a bit of a crybaby. When the Missus has a migraine or the cat has a kidney stone, you don't hear them blubbering (well, the cat screams like hell, but that's understandable). Yet, put me in the slightest amount of discomfort, and I transform into the exact handicapped loser I'm trying to avoid. Pretending not to be hurt was never one of my strong points; I'm bawling in every photo of me that hasn't been posted on this page.
The reason I bring this up is because I've been benched all week with some sort of mystery illness. I don't know what it is, but it's not helping my back any and I feel even more worthless than normal. If you're in the mood for an armchair diagnosis, here are my symptoms:
1. My throat's closed up, I can't breathe very well, and my voice is completely shot. I sound like I'm talking through one of those electric-box things they give to folks with lung cancer. Always making the most of a bad situation, I've been working hard on taking my Mr. T impression to the next level. I've also started a Death Metal band that I'm fronting called GoreRock. My growls are top-notch, and with said illness, I can vomit at will on stage.
2. Every morning without fail, I feel like I've been punched awake. I ache all day, almost as if I got up in the middle of the night and unconsciously participated in a Golden Gloves tournament.
As a side note, wouldn't that be cool? I'd just wake up in the morning with a trophy on my table. In the sports section, there would be a photo of me in the ring with my pajamas bottoms on. This is very funny to me for some reason; specifically if I won my matches.
3. Every time I blink, I crap my pants.
I'm sure it's just a bug going around (I have been making out with more strangers lately), but I'm concerned because I'm officiating a wedding this weekend. This is supposed to be the best day of the happy couple's lives; they don't need me up there, high on cough medicine and gurgling like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. I also don't want my sexy Reverend outfit to go to waste. It's all held together with velcro, so I can use it to strip during the bachelorette party the night before. It's all very sacrilegious. Or sacri-licious, depending on your views.
Song of choice? It's Raining Men.
Another thing that greatly hinders recovery is my refusal to take medication. I try to avoid anything that alters my body's natural ability to heal itself, besides all the liquor and cheap Afghani heroin. I hate trying to function when I'm jacked-up on meds, so I decided a long time ago that feeling sick was far better than feeling loopy. Sick I can handle. Sick is real. Loopy is not real and it allows you to pretend your not sick. I've never been a fan of fiction, buddy.
By the way, feel free to work the term "Afghani heroin" into your day-to-day conversations. The above paragraph existed solely to use that in a sentence.
As I mentioned before, me and the Missus will be heading back to our hometown this weekend for my uncle and future aunt's wedding. From what I can gather, they really liked the ceremony script I sent them, which made me exceedingly happy. I had never written a wedding service before, so I was mapping a lot of uncharted territory. Now, all I have to do is read it aloud without passing out or 'yodeling groceries.'
You can steal 'yodeling groceries,' too. I know you're going to anyways.
The next time we talk, I'll have my first wedding ceremony under my belt. I'll share pictures and tell you all about it, like a family. Sound off in the comments section and tell me to drink plenty of fluids.
Monday, July 24The Conspiracy Starts Now.
It was almost 100 degrees that day. I blame the government.
I had heard about Dundee's annual 'UFO Days' convention a few weeks prior, while scouring the internet for interesting places in Wisconsin to visit. Me and the Missus try to do this once every few weeks; get out of the house, visit some unincorporated shell of a town, eat grilled cheese and buy antiques.
Imagine my surprise when I saw that the 'UFO Capitol of the World' was less than 80 miles from my doorstep! To be fair, there were at least two other Wisconsin towns that proclaimed themselves 'UFO Capitol of the World;' I think someone needs to regulate that title a little more closely. Nonetheless, we packed the car and hit the road before 10am on Saturday.
Okay, this would normally be the point in the essay where I would get into how this convention wasn't even close to what I expected, but I'll let my notes speak for themselves. These are the blurbs I scribbled to myself on the way home, as to not forget what I had just witnessed. Take a look:
a) Expected something lighthearted and fun, did not deliver.
b) Heat index of +100 with no air-conditioning; people blamed the weather on a worldwide conspiracy to shut the convention down, seriously.
c) Main speaker guy looked just like Dale Gribble; initially thought he was kidding, was not.
d) Ranting old man was carrying around a Weekly World News; also not kidding.
e) Casual conversations about chips in your head abound.
f) Government-controlled weather. government-controlled weather.
g) New world order, concentration camps, aliens, George W. Bush, Jesus and the NWO.
h) Speaker mentioned in passing that someone was in telepathic contact with an alien.
i) Stuck around for a couple hours; got the hell outta there and didn't look back.
j) Had to leave rad alien mask in the car, didn't want to scare locals who were actually quite scared of aliens.
k) People had poor attitude; didn't like aliens and didn't welcome them. Sad, really.
Yeah, that's right. It was so hot in there that I went temporarily insane and drank a Budweiser. I hadn't been that oily since high school.
What I thought was going to be a fun and lighthearted romp concerning the UFO phenomenon more closely resembled a room full of folks suspicious and afraid of absolutely everything. As the speakers' allegations got more and more outlandish, the people around me just nodded more and more. Every few seconds, me and Missus exchanged glances as if to say, "Glad we brought the camera, nobody's going to freaking believe this."
I must say that for a few seconds, I was actually agreeing with what they had to say. For example:
Speaker: "All of these bad things are because of the Bush administration."
Me: "Yup, can't argue with that."
Speaker: "They want to make your lives miserable."
Me: "True 'dat. Preach on!"
Speaker: "They have a machine that controls the weather."
Me: "Where are my keys?"
Still don't believe me? I have some video I'd like you to take a peek at. I must warn you, however, you're going to forget what life was like before you watched this. I shot it myself:
So, what have we learned? To be honest, I don't really know. I still believe in the idea of UFO's, but I also believe in truckloads of medication to treat paranoid delusions.
Sound off in the comments section before I'm located and burned at the stake.