life observations, thoughts

i’m going out to look for a digital camera. wish me luck.

this has got to be an urban legend. while this following quote says it is from a florida newspaper, i’ve also found the same story with coming from a new york, connecticut, california and colorado newspapers.

The following is taken from a Florida newspaper:

A man was working on his motorcycle on his patio and his wife was in the house in the kitchen. The man was racing the engine on the motorcycle and somehow, the motorcycle slipped into gear. The man, still holding the handlebars, was dragged through a glass patio door and the motorcycle dumped onto the floor inside the house. The wife, hearing the crash, ran into the dining room, and found her husband laying on the floor, cut and bleeding, the motorcycle laying next to him, and the patio door shattered. The wife ran to the phone and summoned an ambulance. Because they lived on a fairly large hill, the wife went down the several flights of long steps to the street to direct the paramedics to her husband. After the ambulance arrived and transported the husband to the hospital, the wife uprighted the motorcycle and pushed it outside. Seeing that gas had spilled on the floor, the wife obtained some toilet paper, blotted up the gasoline, and threw the toilet paper in the toilet. The husband was treated at the hospital and was released to come home. After arriving home, he looked at the shattered patio door and the damage done to his motorcycle. He went into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and smoked a cigarette. After finishing the cigarette, he flipped it between his legs into the toilet bowl while still seated. The wife, who was in the kitchen, heard a loud explosion and her husband screaming. She ran into the bathroom and found her husband lying on the floor. His trousers had been blown away and he was suffering from burns on the buttocks, the back of his legs and his groin. The wife again ran to the phone and called for an ambulance. The same ambulance crew was dispatched and the wife met them at the street. The paramedics loaded the husband on the stretcher and began carrying him to the street. While they were going down the stairs to the street accompanied by the wife, one of the paramedics asked the wife how the husband had burned himself. When she told them, the paramedics started laughing so hard, one of them tipped the stretcher and dumped the husband out. He fell down the remaining steps and broke his arm.

what do you think? if anything, it sounds like a small segue in a simpsons episode.

the gauge is reading well below E.

snow flew in non-stop. mr. storm came in a big, fat hurry and knocked on our doors saturday afternoon and then he fucking wouldn’t leave. he just kept going and going until monday afternoon – by the time he left my car was a blob of maroon metallic jelly inside a snow donut.

i managed to catchup on a lot of sleep, having no desire to do anything productive. for awhile i fancied the idea of being motivated while i was kept prisoner in my house, but instead i enjoyed the company of hockey and ocarinas. the water temple is a bitch by the way, but my hockey franchise is an even 20 across the board and is now the proud owner of a digital stanley cup.

b-b-b-b-x-y-y-y-right. b-b-y-y-left. damn straight.

people went to work yesterday. there was a state of emergency (SOE) so i figured people wouldn’t get mad if i decided not to go in. technically we weren’t supposed to be driving because of the SOE, and driving is the only way for me to get to work. add one in my favor because there was a ton of snow on my car. add another one because the street where my car was parked had not been plowed.

fuck, it still isn’t plowed.

so like i was saying, i caught up on a lot of sleep but of course the night i decide that i’m going to go to work the next day (i.e. last night), a massive bout of insomnia hits and i stay up all night. as in, not go to sleep. at all. at around 3 in the morning a car alarm went off and proceeded to wake up the neighborhood for an additional 20 minutes. it teased us with some 5 minutes of silence and then came roaring back for another 10. i peeked out my window a couple of times to check if i could see what car it was just in case i came up with some sort of devious plan for retribution… but i couldn’t find it. besides, it wouldn’t have mattered; my plans of revenge never seem to make it past the conceptual phase. probably safer that way.

i rode in with m— because of the previous problems mentioned; i’ve come to decide that i don’t like how he drives in the snow. i grew up driving in snow. i am comfortable driving in snow. i was not comfortable with m— driving in snow. he was running twice the speed everyone else was while being right up on peoples asses. he kept muttering things like “sorry buddy, the rules don’t apply to me”, and “damn, why can’t he get out of the way” while he cut people off and rode on the wrong side of the road. my grogginess disallowed any visible nervous twitching, but i definitely kept a mental note of where the oh shit! bar was.

at work i’m full of chills and intoxicated apprehension. throw clarity out the window and take some nyquil because that’s where i’m at. my capacity to think is excruciatingly low and any attempt at a cerebral conversation ends up being puerile. i want sex and i need to sleep and i am buck-nutty tired.

on a totally different note, i fell asleep to johnny cash covering “hurt” on both saturday and sunday night. was that an original NIN song? holy flircking shnit.