I brought my own lunch today but I was also falling asleep so I decided to get out of the office and get my truck washed since it was still wearing its winter coat of dirt.  I was sitting outside, enjoying the weather and waiting for my truck to get out of the bath when my (relative) peace was interrupted by a horrible screaming child.  I looked in the direction of the noise and saw that it was coming from a baby in a stroller.  The stroller was being pushed by an equally horrible woman, who was screaming at her child to shut the fuck up and quit being such a crybaby.  Yes, really.  Her other four children were amusing themselves in the fountain that said to keep out of the water.

It’s been so long since I’ve worked in retail that I’d honestly forgotten it was possible for people to be almost poetic in their trashiness.

In the past I’d have pointed out that her baby is being a fucking crybaby because it’s a fucking baby, and then fantasized about beating her to death with one of her children.  Today, I just shook my head and stared at the ground and wondered how we made it to the moon without setting ourselves on fire.

Then my truck arrived all clean and sexy and looking good enough to fuck (unless you’re one of those squares who only fucks humans).

So a few weeks ago I woke up and the toenail of my big right toe was covered in blood.  I took a shower, cleaned it up, and went to work.  A few hours later, I looked down at it and it was still bleeding.  So I kinda freaked and cleaned it up and called the doctor and made an appointment.  I wound up canceling the appointment because two days later, it seemed fine.  And then of course, it started bleeding again.

So I cleaned the shit out of it, looked at it closely, and it seemed as tho it might be bleeding due to an ingrown nail.  I’d had an ingrown there before but had had it removed like twenty years ago.  Whatever, it seemed to be back.  So I made an appointment with the foot doctor who took care of it twenty years ago and that appointment is for the day after tomorrow.  This morning I looked down at my toe and it was covered in blood again.  I went into the bathroom and started cleaning it and it wasn’t getting any better and it was hurting like fuck.  That was about the time I woke up enough to realize the nail was completely gone.  I went back into my bedroom and there it was on the floor, sitting at the foot of the bed like an enormous, armored roach.  Fucking nasty.

So I put it in my shirt pocket so I could take pictures of it at work and put it up here, like a complete fucking asshole.  There’s just no defense for this, it’s a dick move.  That said, if you’re dumb enough to click on that thumbtoenail (hah!) above, don’t waste your time bitching at me, I’ll just mock you for looking.

For a while there, I was writing something called Adventures In Spankland.  It was a fictionalized version of the last several years of my life but I stopped writing it when I realized a bunch of people didn’t realize it was supposed to be fictitious.  Another reason for stopping was because each chapter (due to the fact that there was so much content that was more editorial than story) had to be so severely edited that I always wound up rewriting it.  So, I’m slowly reconsidering the entire thing, but I found this bit that had to be edited out, and I like it enough that I thought I’d post it here before completely deleting the draft:

“Because porn, regardless of what anyone says to contradict this, is all about money.  It’s not about degrading women or titillation or art or sexual empowerment or even just entertaining people:  It’s all about money.  Sexually free spirits will have orgies on their own time.  Misogynists will degrade women on their own time.  Pornographers will not make porn unless there’s a buck in it.”

Dear God-
Hey dude, I know it’s been forever since we talked and I realize I don’t really have the right to ask anything of you, what with not really being 100% on your team and all but hey, agnostic is better than atheist, right?  Baby steps, man.  Anyway look, my head hurts like fuck.  Like…if you took an overripe grapefruit and shoved it up a duck’s ass, that would give you an idea how I feel at the moment (my head is the grapefruit, not the duck’s ass).  It hurt like fuck when I woke up this morning and five hours, four Excedrin, and a bucket of caffeine later and things just haven’t improved enough.  So I was thinking maybe you could just grab that Universal Remote of yours and, I don’t know, fast forward through to about 6pm or so?  That’d be great, thanks.

Oh and hey, as long as I have your attention, if there’s any way you could arrange for a Sea Lion to destroy Tony Hayward’s ball sack, that would be delightful and very much appreciated.  If not (too cruel or some other bullshit), I totally get it.  Anyway, thanks for listening.

-Tim