Monday, June 30, 2008

Coming Soon: Blog Entries!

At first glance, it may seem like I'm avoiding updates and the like. But the truth of the matter is, I don't have the internet capabilities to post. Really.

If I had the ability to post, I would tell you about life with a new Playstation 3 that Ellvin Kelvin gave us.

If I had access to the internet, I would write about how playing Metal Gear Solid 4 is hard as hell after being spoiled by the intuitive play mechanics of the Wii.

If I could log into, I would report on how our beloved Famous Dave's restaurant has made it out to a location near us!

If only, I would discuss staying alone in a huge new house.

If, I'd... Wall-E is so awesome!

... Nestlé Tollhouse Café Twisters (two fresh baked cookies of choice surrounding a scoop of ice cream of choice) are fantastic.

... ceiling fans are a bitch to assemble.

... houses are expensive and even more expensive to fill.

... people have services for every stupid thing for new homes (meat delivery, water softening, etc.).

... running around the park.

... ghetto Corona.

... fireworks in the park and ashes in the eyes.

... buying 16 new chairs for $12 a piece.

... Angel Wing Jasmine's upcoming wedding!

There's so much to talk about, but internet is slow to come by. But patience Iago, patience! Soon.

Super Summarize Me,


Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Scat Ba Ba

Ya'll may have noticed that I ain't been bloggin' in a while. Honest to God, it ain't 'cos I been lazy or nothin'. That''d be just part 'o the reason, I reckon. It's 'cos, well, why don'tcha all just sit on back and I'll spin ya a tale.

It all started with a lawn that needed a mowin'.

There I stood, under the broodin' unrelenting harsh sun with my lawn mower chompin' away at the overgrown grass blades, when a portly Hawaiian feller waddled toward me. He asked of me, "I reckon, you the homeowner of this here property?" I tells him, "Sure are. My brother and I owns this dank lot the both of us."

The feller introduces himself as Whiskey Pete Jones, but I somehow thought the better o' that. Then he tries to offer me somefin' of a deal. He says, "I'm layin' down the cement of your neighbor's house and I's wonderin' if you'd be interested too? I got my men right here and figures we could do it fer a good price since they's already here and whatnot."

I tells him, "Gee mister, what kinda offer yous offerin' me?"

And off he went into our backyard, spray paintin' the ground, tellin' me about laying cement fer $7,000. Not knowin' what's a good deal or not a good deal, I calls my Pappy and he comes out.

Whiles thinking about the feller's offer, I comes to the mind that cement ain't really what I want and I tells my Paps to hear the feller's pitch and tell him no on account that I wasted some of his time already.

Well the next second my Pap is askin' the fat man about RV parking and after I's try to tell the man no as nicely as possible, Pap makes the deal, shakes the man's hand, and the man's crew starts demolishin' my wall, befere even a deal is inked in paper.

I's mad as hell at my Paps because I ain't wanted no RV parking. I wanted a yard fer plantin' and whatnot. And I's hated the fat man's guts fer the kinda dealings he partakes in. I really hope he gets a heartattack or sommat 'cos he's sommat of a crooked dealer jackoff asswipe.

Well we were stuck in this deal that my Paps made and so I made him pay fer it. We noticed rightaway that they's tryin' to cut corners; burryin' cement blocks, dumpin' the neighbor's dirt in our yard, flippin' grass over so as not to haul it themselves to the landheap. Worse thing's they din't cap off a sprinkler they cut off and when run, it would have leaked underneath the RV driveway which woulda been a disaster, I reckon.

So we's forced me Paps to take the next day off to make sure they's done a good job and not cut anymore corners. And he did and it came out pretty darn rootin'. But the asswipe fat ass still ain't come to give us the key to the darn gate. All I knows is I ain't never gonna do no more dealings with fat crooked pushy mother fuckers again, I swear it to God I do.

But this story ain't got nothin' to do wit why I's been bloggin' less lately. I ain't been blogging much 'cos I ain't got no internet 'cos I's moved into me new house! Finerally, after years of living under the rule of me Pappy and Mammy, I's finerally out into me own place. Down in Corona'sa fine place, I swear to God. But I reckon living here might be affectin' the ways I's talk. Is the way I's talkin' diff'rent or sommat? I ain't able to tells.

Rounding up Bessy and 'afeedin' the chicks,


Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Red Eye Special

Well would you look at that?

I woke up Sunday morning with my eyeball bloodied. Don't know if it's related to the ASA procedure or not, but the doc says it's pretty standard fare for anyone. If you sneeze too hard, lift too heavy weights, or push too hard while constipated (which happens a lot), you could bust a blood vessel.

Gross right? What sucks is that it's going to take around 3 weeks to heal.

I personally think it gives me a fierce quality. I'm one red hot mo-fo.



Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Pain in the ASA

And so I survived. Not that my life was ever in danger or anything, but I lived to tell about my aweful (that's "awesome" and "awful" conjoined) experience.

Course, leading to the surgery, I was a slightly perturbed. But they gave me a nice Zanex to calm me down. After a quick test (which is better, 1 or 2?), I was led to the very sterile and very calming blue and futuristic laser room. They had me lay down on a bed thing and slide carefully underneath the laser. I was given a kewl football to keep my hands busy. Then the doc began the procedure, letting me know exactly what was happening as he proceeded.

First, after clamping my eye open, he installed tiny implants in my lid to help with tear production to combat dry eyes. Then he sat a tiny clear ball on my eye to numb it. Then came some wiping with a sponge. At this point, I can't feel a thing, so even though he said he was wiping the top of my eyeball, it felt like there was a sheet of glass over me and he was wiping the surface of the glass. Then came a metal instrument that scraped away the top layer of my eye. This was the weirdest moment because as I watched him sort of sweep away a layer of cells, my vision sharpened a bit. He scraped the layer into one section of my eye, as would happen when you sweep a room, and then he carried it off with a single swoop.

Then wiping occurred again. And finally, they were ready for the laser. I was told to look at a blinking red light (the laser had a solid red light and a blinking one). I was warned that the laser would begin tapping and when it does, that I'll want to breathe through my mouth. So I thought to myself, why would I want to breathe through my mouth? Then alluva sudden, I heard a pat-pat-pat-pat-pat-pat and could smell the scent of burning flesh. I realized, this is the laser portion reshaping my eye. I inhaled and exhaled through my mouth and tried to maintain focus on the blinking red light. But I was baffled because the light had become a giant red orby blur. Where was I supposed to look within this red fuzzy circle??? I just focused on one spot as the laser went on for what seemed like a minute.

The laser stopped tapping and the doc ran water across my eye and the world seemed a bit more in focus. He applied the bandage contact lens, unclamped my eye and my eyelids instinctively shut.

Then he repeated the same steps on my left eye.

In all, I think the whole process was extremely cool. I was way more alert than when I had my wisdom teeth pulled. The best thing is that I got to keep the football!

The recovery was hell though. Since ASA lasers the top surface of your eyeball, the cells recover like any other wound. LASIK has little to no downtime. ASA kicks your ass for 3 days after. I didn't face any dry eyes, but there was plenty of wet eyes. I guess because of the tear implants, my eyes were constantly watery, which made the 3 days extremely unpleasant. My eyes were so stingy that I could barely open them. Even when they were shut, they stung. The doc gave me a cool survival kit that consisted of Tears "A" (for discomfort), Xibrom (prescription Advil for the eye), Zymar (antibiotic), Pred Forte (steroid to promote healing), and Artificial Tears (eye lubricant). But using this kit only gave me about 2 hours of relief at a time. The Tears "A" was there if I needed it, but I was told to try not to use it much since it hinders the recovery process.

Also in these 3 days, I had to wear shields over my eyes while I slept to prevent myself from clawing at my peepers. I also had to wear goggles in the shower. It was not fun.

And to this day, after 3 follow up appointments, no longer wearing shields, down to just the Pred Forte and Artificial Tears, I'm still not seeing 100%. I believe it's due to the steroid. My eye is still healing, but it seems that whenever I use the steroid drops, my vision becomes very hazy.

ASA requires patience. I'm getting a big impatient actually. Work is a huge hassle because I can't stare at the screen for longer than 5 minutes without everything going blurry. But even still, I am glad to have shed my contacts and glasses! I'm still getting used to the fact that I don't have contacts on. Going to bed with clear vision is so weird.

I'll keep you updated. I should quit staring at this screen and get some rest.

Should I end this entry? Eye eye!