A-TO-Z-LETTER CHALLENGE "B" – ROBERT BROCKWAY, WRITER

 (WARNING: CONTAINS ADULT LANGUAGE)

I cannot remember the first time I read one of Robert Brockway's articles on Cracked.com, the humor website, but it's been years. Robert is not a humorist per se, as was James Thurber; he tends more to sci-fi, or speculative fiction, or whatever the hell they're calling it these days, but I was immediately taken with his writing style, not just because of his use of the English language, which is beautiful and unusual, but because he paints images that linger in the mind. . .

                                                                                                                                                                                                  Dieselpunk

. . . and then follows it up with a picture and more prose that embeds itself for eternity, as well as setting you up for the hilarity that is to follow:

 "Demonstration matches were frequently held at county fairs and stadiums all across the country, though it was most prominent in the Midwest during the early 1910s. It was usually played with a basketball, as seen above, and the only mandated gear was a jaunty cap and a callous disregard for human life. It was every bit as unquestionably awesome as it was uncontrollably, screamingly retarded:"

Read more: http://www.cracked.com/blog/15-old-photographs-that-prove-world-used-to-be-insane_p2/#ixzz2xfoeQ8iL

There is more mayhem regarding "Auto Polo" but really? Is it any more idiotic than any of the crap you see on "World's Dumbest Partiers?" I must admit it is the ONLY show I watch on Tee Vee; all else is Netflix. I've seen entire back seats of sedans strung up between two trees and drunken red necks swinging to and fro and laughed myself into apoplexy when one of them does a face-plant into the dirt. Am I just not enjoying a free, and safe, ride as the lower end of the gene pool continues it's slow, albeit creative slouch towards self-destruction? But, I digress.

Within this same article, after "Auto Polo", is something that is near and dear to my heart, although, I am glad it is not practiced anymore, for the sake of the wildlife involved. It is called "Lion Drome" and yes, it was a thing. Just thinking that we, here in the U. S. ever did something like this should seem astonishing, but crazy stunts with wild beasts and any other wild, insane, dangerous things that will most surely end in tears, regret, blood and shattered limbs is done all the time, even now. 

"Lion Drome" consisted of, um. . . well. . . it was. . . Hell. I'm just going to let Robert describe it for you. 

"I've shown this photo once before, but I don't think I made it totally clear that Lion Dromes were not a fluke. This was just how you took in a show, back in the day. It was like going to the matinee now, only instead of watching Jeremy Renner pout in front of a shaky camera, you had the kids stick their unshielded little faces out over a bowl of automotive trauma and told them to inhale the heady fumes of gasoline and jungle predator.

Read more: http://www.cracked.com/blog/15-old-photographs-that-prove-world-used-to-be-insane_p2/#ixzz2xft6IwVD

                                                                                                                                                                                                            Thrillarena

 The first time I saw this picture and could finally stop laughing, I looked at the expression on the lion's face and dubbed him "Executive Lion". He's thinking, "Hmmm, wonder if I ate my briefcase."

I have to dip back into a familiar well and go back to "World's Dumbest" and this time I think it was 2 guys on motorcycles inside a metal ball. . . In Bulgaria, which is already sounding like a bad idea. Here in the good ol' U. S. of A., OSHA isn't exactly busting the chops of cheap carnivals that roam around the country, and since they pretty much dump nuclear waste in the rivers, land and atmosphere with regularity in Eastern Europe, I'm sure they don't give two hoots about a couple of dull-normal siblings in a Bulgarian carny. I was proven right. 

The ball held all right, but the two dudes, after reaching maximum speed did about 2 laps that looked like an insane Wheel-o, before meeting in mid-air and falling into a crumpled heap in the bottom of the metal ball. Who does this? I mean, the ball has to be sturdy enough to hold two full-grown men and two motorcycles, so the bars are rather dense, so you get this impression of a giant atom, with large molecules acting okay, and then, poof! Critical Mass? Fission? . . . and a crumpled heap of men and metal at the bottom. Meanwhile, the "assistant" who had presented this amazing thing with a flair of her hand was off to the side playing "Statues" with her arm still held out, pointing to this 8th wonder of the world. It took her a good minute, or minute and a half to realize all was not going to plan. But I digress.

I could go on for hours about the funny and laugh-out-loud expressions and turns of phrase that Robert Brockway continually amazes me with in his writings. Like any excellent writer, he practices and hones his craft and his diligence and persistence are paying off for him. The publishing house Tor purchased his book, the Unnoticeables at auction, with a three-book, six-figure deal! Tor said the books are "hilarious urban fantasy novels" set in a world that pulls from New York's punk scene in the 1970s as well as the modern-day Los Angeles entertainment industry. The Unnoticeables is tentatively scheduled for July 2015.

Robert's comment on his website, regarding his good news on robertbrockway.net? "That's right -- THREE god damn books coming your way. I am going to literally crush you with an avalanche of my books*.

*Provided you are small and do not struggle too much"

His book RX: A Tale of Negativity is available on Amazon and you can read his articles on Cracked.com. His website is www.robertbrockway.net and he is also a disciple of Chuck Wendig, another hellacious author and fan of establishing a solid work ethic.

Please, please, please be sure and stop by my fabulous team Leader for this challenge, DamyantiG to see her post on action scenes in writing, here: Amlokiblogs: #atozchallenge : A for Action #fiction #writing #quotes

A-to-Z Challenge 2014 - Amusement

(Warning: Containts Adult Language)

I participated in this challenge last year on the spur of the moment and had a great time. I didn't exactly have a theme and although I have one this year, it is broad in scope; I picked “HUMOR AND HUMORISTS” because I am a “pantser” in that I write by the seat of my pants, seldom edit, and just go with whatever comes into my head. This can be terrific if one has a good grasp of vocabulary and sentence structure and can write essays or mediocre short stories fairly quickly. It sucks when you write novels; believe me. I am the voice of experience in this. I have a great novel on paper and a great novel running around in my head; however, they are not the same book. I just haven't worked up the gumption to sit my happy ass down in my writing chair and put them together. I've been too busy lolling about in my gaming chair, which is the same chair, by the way, as my writing chair, playing Runescape and giving people hell, who deserve having hell given them, to do any editing, but that is neither here nor there and has nothing whatsoever to do with humor, but is one HELL of a run-on sentence, which should be avoided at all costs, which if I were teaching English grammar, I would admonish my students to avoid. But, I digress. Still. Damn! My mother, the English teacher would have been proud of the above , right there!

Just what does make us amused? By amused, I mean of course, what makes us laugh and tickles our funny bones? I think it is fair to say that a sense of humor is almost as personal as a person's concept of what faith they follow or why they vote a certain way. There is no general formula for a sure-fire laugh-getter and I find, at least in my case, the more obvious the joke, the more stale and failed the attempt becomes.

                                                                                                    courtesy: blog.pavelife.com

I think, that certain forces come into play when it comes to things that make us laugh. Universality for one. One of the reasons people like a comedian like Bill Cosby, or Jim Gaffigan are funny, although they are completely different is that we can relate to them. Bill Cosby used to do stand-up about his childhood and it resonated with every kid I knew growing up in the 60s. Jim Gaffigan and his absurdities with “Hot Pockets” is just as funny, because it is absurd, just in his voicing of it. 

                                                                                               courtesy: thrillist.com                                                                          

Some people are just bowled over by physical comedy, which more sophisticated comedians in the 30s, 40s and 50s dismissed as low-brow, but I defy anyone to not laugh at the stupidities presented on America's Home Videos. I will also sit down and watch the Three Stooges, the Marx Brothers, who are screamingly funny, to this day, and the physical comedy of Chevy Chase, particularly his “Fletch” series. Woody Allen's earliest movies combined sophisticated angst, Freudian dread with slapstick in a way that has never been paralleled.

courtesy: clclt.com

"Love and Death" by Woody Allen is a great movie and a huge joke on Russian Literature; from Pushkin to Gogol to Chekhov, no one got out of this movie unscathed! This is a reference to Dostoyoevsky's "The Idiot"

But what of more sophisticated comedians and humorists? George Carlin was probably the best of those, as profane as he could be. He was also taught by Jesuits, as was Bill Maher and myself; I have found that anyone with any kind of Jesuitical background, (maybe it's something in the rarefied atmosphere) leaves us with a playfulness for the language, which does take a certain flair to appreciate. Be that as it may, I appreciate a good pun, which as my long-suffering mother used to say to my father whenever he came up with some tin-eared horror, “Glenn Wallace, enough pun-ishment!” And so it goes.

Randomness and random anything cracks me up. Stuff that just pops up out of the blue will have me on the floor rolling around, holding my sides in a red-hot minute. When I was homeless, I had two roommates, and one had already gone to bed, and I was already in bed. The third was getting ready for bed, and I heard her say, “Okay, I'm going to eat this turkey now, and go to sleep!” I laughed like a hyena for 15 minutes. She finally walked into my little cubby-hole to find out what was so funny. I wiped the tears from my eyes. “You're eating a turkey? At 11 o'clock at night?” She looked at me and snorted. “A cookie, you asshole.” Off I went again. “I liked it the other way.”

Amusement is to be found in stunts in movies. I love Jackie Chan movies. I have never seen such well-timed or closely-executed stunts in moves, save “A Fish Called Wanda,” with people disappearing in the nick of time, behind doors, into closets underneath sinks, all while the unsuspecting person is kept completely in the dark as to their presence! It's a marvel to behold, while you're laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole preposterous plot.

With Owen Wilson as some kind of Zen-Surfer-Cowboy. Can't miss.

The last are the authors and writers that have amused me, past and present. I have admired Robert Brockway at Cracked.com for years and we have struck up some sort of passing-back-and-forth-of-Tweets-and-snarky-notes-thing,-that-doesn't-really-qualify-as-a-friendship,-but-more-of-an-awareness-of-one- another-thing. I will be honoring him with a post on my letter “B” whether he likes it or not. I haven't told him yet, because, as per usual, I didn't get around to it. I am sure he won't mind. I think. He is one HELL of a writer and a very funny man and I truly, truly respect him and his craft! Have a great and fun, A-to-Z challenge, 2014 everyone!

#ROW80 – Wednesday Check In – A Sort of a Word Count? Why Does the U.S. Health System Suck SO Bad?

Well, this is a first for me, in a while. An actual check in, where I actually put some actual words down for my actual edit. And excruciating it was. However, I am rather pleased by the result. Never having edited my own work, I thought I would be harder on myself. This means that I will loathe these edits later on, wondering what on God's Earth I was thinking. But, baby steps and all that happy crappy.


So, I've managed to edit about 700 words. Now, when we talk about “edit,” are we talking about leaving words in the paragraph, or taking them out? Does that count, or should I be subtracting those, because if that is the case, I've really managed to edit about -1459 words, and I don't think that's so good. And what about this “changing” thing. “Words?” or entire “Paragraphs?” If it's just words, you have a sum total of more or less. “Paragraphs” are stupid for counting, because we're not really editing them. Or are we? See? Can you tell I've never done this before? I'm totally scoobying this? Help? This shit is really hard. I think I'll stick with words, because I had more of those after I gouged out great chunks of drivel about the pinochle game with the ex-felons. . . Oh wait, I didn't. That's in the next chapter. Is that a teaser? Ha ha, color me Oops!

I look nothing like this, with the exception of the eyes. My left eye is crazier...

Anyway, I have found that dealing with the Health Care System in the United States, is everything way wrong with the U.S. in a microcosm. No body knows how to do their job. Meaningless CYA letters are mailed to and fro, unasked for in most cases and the letters themselves are written by that room full of monkeys that type Shakespeare for a hobby. Then, the Supplemental Insurance Companies run the letters through the HIBACHI AUTO TRANSLATOR that has been in use for decades by horrible Asian Spy Martial-Arts rip-off movies like so:

http://www.cracked.com/blog/the-most-baffling-subtitles-in-foreign-action-movie-history/

Holy shit! Is this a movie about kickboxing riot cops versus Cthulhu? Because if it is, then I think we should all, as a species, chip in together and get Indonesia a nice giant box of chocolates or something as a thank you. But if it's not, then I call dibs on that shit right now and you all are witnesses. 

Read more: http://www.cracked.com/blog/the-most-baffling-subtitles-in-foreign-action-movie-history/#ixzz2bGJPftqg *

Today, I found out it takes 15 departments to dispatch drivers to pick up one person after a doctor appointment. After having carefully followed the rules since March 1, when I received this Blight on the Planet called Supplemental Insurance/Medicare, it was made very clear to me to NEVER deviate from the process. I am so hard-wired I make Boolean logic look wild and crazy! I do process and I do it hard. I am all about process. I grew up in chaos and loathe it.


That being the case, today, after my shrink appointment, which went a big long (we're discussing psycho-therapy, or PsychoBabble Rap) I quickly nipped over to the Chinese joint and ordered JC and me some Chinese food. I got back to my doc's office, called for my ride to pick me up, which is THE PROCESS. THEY DON'T COME UNTIL YOU CALL! The lady at my Supplemental insurance said, okay, we'll have them dispatched. THAT IS THE PROCESS. THEY DON'T COME UNTIL YOU CALL! Except for today. Offices closed. Lights are coming on; my food is growing cold. I'm bewildered. I called my Supplemental Suckage group and got put on hold with their after-hours group.


I finally get an agent from Neptune; the customer service was as bad as you would expect, but not earth-shakingly bad, nor profoundly bad, as what happens to poor Buck in “Numb3rs, Season 5, Episode 11, “Arrow in Time,” which I love to talk about endlessly because this scene, approximately 8 minutes from the show's end, is played out in a church, with FBI agent Don, calmly explaining to a furious, heart broken, grieving and frightened 19-year old that he has to do 250 years in prison. All of this is played with the Estonian composer Arvo Pärt's piece “Requiem to Benjamin Britten,” for Strings and Bells. The music itself, is nothing more than a cascading scale of notes of several octaves, but pure and simple; clean, yet I found it sinister. I've played the piece and it's one of the few times I've heard music on a Television show that was not an original composition, set as “mood music.” It's chilling, tragic, unbelievably dark, and the last note is as of Hell itself. It is one of the most powerful things I've heard and seen together. The show's composer made an excellent call on that. The start is when Charlie and his father talk about Maxwell's Demon, at 7:40 from the end of the show.

I embedded the code from You Tube, so that hopefully Ms. Alberta Ross can see and hear this; I finally found it on You Tube. But it's a powerful statement and his Buck's end is final and tragic. The music, again, from Arvo Part, an Estonian composer who wrote mainly choral and canonical works wrote this for Bells and Strings. It is simple in construction, but so powerful. 

Well, nothing that dire happened today, but my food was cold and that was 2 3/4 digressions. By the time I got home, I was no longer in high dudgeon and just worn out. Neurological problems just tire you and the drugs don't help. Actually, with this new medicine for my tremors, Primidone, I cannot seem to muster up more than a medium-tall dudgeon. When I start counting my dudgeons in inches, then we're going to have to do something else. I haven't had any sightings of the dead, or sprouted any extra appendages yet, nor have I levitated. One can hope. At least I'm starting to actually edit, produce words, sentences, paragraphs with some coherence. 

I guess I didn't answer the question about why the health care system here is so horrid. It just is and will get worse, I fear. On to more important things, like Lion Drome.

*My thanks to Mr. Robert Brockway over at Cracked.com. He has put up with me and my antics patiently and is a prince, as well as an awesome, awesome writer. Check him out. I laughed all over again reading this article. My 2nd favorite article of his is this one: http://www.cracked.com/blog/15-old-photographs-that-prove-world-used-to-be-insane/ 
2 words: Executive Lion: "Wonder if I ate my briefcase?"

#ROW 80 POST 44 – WE ARE YOUNG AND HAVIN’ FUN 2012

"We Are Young"  fun. Official Video

Sorry PSY; I love you and Berklee College should be proud, but fun. rules!

The title says it all. This post is about all of the stuff in 2012 that made me laugh. When I laugh, I feel young. And dammit, I love to laugh; it is the best high, the best drug in the world and I love to share it with people. I don’t care how stupid it is; I laugh at a lot of stupid stuff and myself as well. When I lived at FSJ, homeless shelter, there were a few of us who laughed all the time, at, well the expense of others… but they didn’t know they were being laughed at, so it was okay… sort of. Anyway, moving on, here’s some of the funny shit of 2012, in no particular order; stuff that made me laugh and I want you to all laugh too:

1)         http://www.theworld4realz.com/cotton-swab-causes-emergency-room-visit/

I’ve tried to tell you why this is one of the most serious funny pieces I’ve ever read, but I can’t stop laughing long enough. The dialog between Andi-Roo and her Hubz, talking to Andi-Roo’s mom, the dawning horror of Andi-Roo when she realizes what the nurse really means by “safe at home,” and it’s not big shards of glass on the floor or cleaning her ears with a knife, or the “dumb-ish” nurse, the whole piece is flat-out hysterical, even on like the 5^th reading.

I've heard the adjective "fearless" applied to ol' Nic here. Maybe he should get some. Fear, I mean.

2)         Is actually a post I can’t find, but it has this very boffo picture of Nic Cage in bear suit in “Wicker Man,” a remake of the 1973 “classic.” I do have the picture and I’ve posted it here for you to enjoy, but back to Nic; I never saw either of the “Wicker Man” movies; the older is supposedly classic, but I hear the newer one sucks out loud. I ran across this picture in a “Worst Movie of…” on Cracked.com. There are not enough superlatives to describe what I felt upon seeing this picture. Feel free to supply your own.

*Burp* I wonder if I have Briefcase-Breath?

3)         Lion Drome. I actually thought JC was going to have to take me to the hospital for this. I literally stopped breathing during this awesome post on Cracked.com by Robert Brockway. Having “PD or non-PD, that is the question,” for some reason, also causes me to laugh harder and cry harder and to call Mr. Brockway, “Bwockway” for some reason. I hope he has gotten over that. I bought his book, too. Eventually, I may be able to read it. If my eyes ever settle down. In March. In the meantime, check out this “Executive Lion,” or better yet, read his whole post @ 

http://www.cracked.com/blog/15-old-photographs-that-prove-world-used-to-be-insane/ and a tip of the hat to Mr. Robert Bwockway, who has provided me with hours of hysteria and apoplexy. Enough clap for him and on with our merriment.

4)         This is something that I ran across in our freebie newspaper that comes out 5 days a week, the Tampa Bay Times. It’s called the “Zim Bear.” The link connects to the whole post and the post itself is interesting for a couple of reasons. I wrote it during a very brief period of lucidity, when I was writing my S.I.F.O.T.S. blog, on March 2, 2012. It’s actually kind of hilarious, in hindsight, now. February 29^th, 2012, I wrote, “Chthulhu Doesn’t Live Here Anymore,” which was wishful thinking on my part. He lives here part-time now. I just collect the mail and water his plants. I really should write a follow up post, “Chthulhu, is that Yhouhlhu?” but I so confused myself just trying to type that, I think I’ll leave that moment of whimsy alone.

So, the rest of THAT month is pretty sketchy and some of this I don’t remember, but this is when the tremors moved in and stayed, along with my bipolar symptoms, for real. If I weren’t so damned rational and old, I’d probably have jumped off the roof. The fact that I understand what is going on, makes all of the weirdness pretty easy to deal with. That and the hella medicines my psychiatrist makes sure I get. The Tampa Police Department are good to me as well. “PD or non-PD, THAT is the question?”

5)         Oh! Speaking of. @YumaBev. I cannot have a list of hilarity without the Numero Uno funniest lady on the planet! Funny was still abed when she got up. Over at Parkinson’s Humor, I couldn’t believe it when she was trying to figure out a way to live blog her DBS surgery! Yup! That’s our girl! Only Bev would come up with that corker! A crappy day won’t dare show it’s face around her! I laugh just thinking about her. YumaBev is one of those people that when you think of her, you’re glad to be a member of the human race; she’s that great. Without her and others like her, Jim and Penny Adams, Cyndee Bowen, and P.A.N.D.A., all  tireless workers, their grace and insights, it would be so hard for anyone with Parkinson’s or any Movement Disorder to understand and deal with and try to navigate any of the medical care systems and understand more importantly, the symptoms. Bev and her (now mine, too) buddies are reassuring, and fun. Back to more fun.

 Check out Bev's websites Parkinson's Humor and YumaBev.com and @YumaBev on Twitter. Her book Parkinson's Humor is available on Amazon.com and the proceeds go towards a cure for the disease. A worthier woman and a dearer one to my heart, would be hard to find in this hemisphere.

6)         Spiders. Yeah, I know. Most of the world (of 15 readers?) just jumped off my blog, ¼ of you went ewww!. The rest of us went, SQUEE!! It depends on the type of spider. Nikki McCormack wrote about them and started with the cute little fuzzy type of jumpers and I can’t believe anyone thinks those are icky or scary. We have a batch of them that live on our porch banister and they have their little territories staked out. Once in a while, they bump into one another and jump! Turn and dart off, very synchronized. I think they’re cute as hell. They stay outside and don’t intrude on anyone else’s space. I loved Nikki’s description of Harvester spiders; something about walking death, as I recall.

We did have an interloper; a brown recluse got in the house, when we were living in the homeless shelter. JC got him, we were moving anyway; that was just a little added incentive. We had already been dealing with bedbugs. We didn’t need rotting flesh on top of that.

Anyway, check out the world’s funniest video on why not to film a jumping spider:

http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/a2ab701e7e/why-not-to-film-a-spider

7)         So, this gets us to the 2012 Presidential election, with all the signs, portents and many important issues and timely questions and serious discussions. The tone was pretty well set by the world's largest and continuous, party, Twitter. I thought that after 2000, the election was an aberration, because it took a month. It turned out I was wrong. The election of 2012, according to who you listened to, was a continual ongoing work of art, a Noh drama, bushido in style, or a train-wreck. Romney, Ryan, Rovian and nothing less than epic. The fact that Hurricane Sandy intervened and Governor Chris Christie got to play Orestes to Romney's Agemnon made it all the more epic-er!

What made it so extra-fun was being IN Twitter and reading and sometimes even trying to come up with witticisms in reaction to the shit that one Mitt Romney was saying, however, our fearless leader, President Obama was holding his own, and Mr. Chuck Wendig an awesome, awesome writer, who blogs "Terrible Minds" was also adding to the hilarity with his #fakedebate; once again, JC was at the ready, poised to dial 911, when I came up for air:

I can honestly say that I have never, ever enjoyed political discourse so much. I am sure that Mark Twain, H.L. Mencken et. al,, would agree.

8)         Winding this up, I thought I’d include one of my own idiocies. I come from a family that celebrates its idiocies, much in the way Rome allowed her generals to celebrate victories with triumphs. The only dilemma here is which of my many stupidities garners the honor.

Could it be the time I followed myself on my own blog? That was a good one, but wasn’t really all that complicated and didn’t require the level of air-headedness or denseness necessary, nor the prolonged state of confusion I typically exhibit.

How about the time I “rebutted”  Andi-Roo on a #ROW80 post about Suicide and then, in a swift, rapier-like and extremely cunning move, worthy of Errol Flynn and Dr. No, I submitted MY post title, with HER verbiage, so SHE rebutted HERSELF? The editor, Wayne Borean was probably swamped; knows us both and just went with it. The twin posts festered around on the internet and on Paper.li for a few hours before I caught the error and fixed it. A huge MEA CULPA followed and lots of falling on my cyber-sword. Andi-Roo, was vastly amused, as I knew she would be. Thanks Zeus for that wonderful woman. Had it been anyone else, I would have had to change my name and move to Neptune. That’s not really quite showy enough. I could go back and scratch around in my old blog posts and what not, but I’m just too damned lazy.

This stupid Parkinson’s Disease, not-Parkinson’s Disease, that is the question leaves me tie-rd. I sleep 11 or 12 hours a night sometimes. I got up today around noon. Ate breakfast, took vitamins and I’m ready for a nap. I digress. PD, or non-PD seems to be a lot like the elephant in the room. I keep wanting to pretend that everything is the same, but my damned brain will not allow for that.

So, I’ve got what seems to be a perpetual geek show in my head. Everything is weird. “Chthulhu is that Yhoulhu?” should be a sit-com in my head. Anyway, the last thing that I did that counts for a stellar idiocy that had me laughing for a while, was this doozy:

This is what happens when I cook

Now, to top it off, yesterday, when I was getting off the bus at the grocery store, this topped it off. There was a little round woman, very jolly, a sort of Mrs. Claus type, saying “God Bless,” to one and all as they exited. I, as everyone knows, am a hardwired creature, like a cat. I do the same thing, every time. I get up, cane and all and brace myself for the next stop. I don’t like to stand in one place too long. I prefer to be a moving target, as it were. She says something about me not falling, or am I okay, or am I really blind and I hear her say “Or is that your hustle?” It didn’t register for a minute. I stood there, with a blank look, so she repeated herself. I grinned and said, “It’s 3 things; it makes a good weapon, too.” We both laughed, as I got off the bus. That shit cracked me up.

I know I haven't blogged for a few weeks. I've been deliberately lying low, due to my neurological whatever, which is a bore, but there it is. I am pleased  and proud to announce that I will be hosting Jade Kerrion's Double Helix Tour on Wednesday, January 2, 2013! She is a wonderful writer and just a wonderful person. To celebrate the launch of Perfect Betrayal and Perfect Weapon, Perfection Unleashed will be available for only 0.99 at Amazon, (down from $2.99) for the duration of Jade's virtual book tour through March 1, 2013. Her writing is thrilling and I think, prophetic in many ways.

ROW 80 4th QUARTER POST 6, SUNDAY CHECK IN – P.D. OR NOT P.D.

I can’t even begin to create a riff or a parody of probably the most famous soliloquy in all of English Literature. Sorry, Hamlet and Shakespeare. Besides, it’s a monumental waste of time. I’m not in a time-wasting or a particularly jolly mood. That’s not a good sign.

Anyway, my oldest friend from California called yesterday, to see how I was. Her daughter, named Sheila, coincidentally my mother’s name, is getting married on October 20^th, which also coincidentally, would have been my mother’s 81^st birthday, so we talked quite a bit about both Sheilas. This is all rather odd, because my friend forgot that my mother’s name was Sheila when she had her daughter and her daughter’s day of her marriage just happened to fall on the 20^th of October. Oh well.

My friend really called because she’s been reading my blog and knows what’s been going on over here on Nebraska Ave 33605 in the last few weeks. Bless her. She and I usually spend enormous amounts of time on the phone; just hours. Lately, no. I know she’s busy helping Sheila get ready for her wedding. Sheila is her baby and as pragmatic as my friend is, she wants it to all go well. “We didn’t order the nightmare option,” she said to me yesterday. She’s been my friend all these years, mostly because she’s funnier than I am. Not really. She’s clear-headed and loving and steadfast; we had lots of stupid adventures in school.

So, I told her this whole mess of going to the Neurologists on Thursday and having to run (stagger and hit walls) up and down halls, keep trying to follow and touch the Dr. C. Fuo resident’s finger when it’s clear I have barely any vision and no depth perception. I actually have bruises on the inside of my elbows by my pulse points where she used the hammer to see if I had reactions. After an hour of this, and her talking too loudly to me in very heavily accented Chinese, she left the room, saying she’d be back in a “few minutes.” I had a jacket on, but was frozen. About 20 minutes later, she comes back with the attendant, Dr. Gipson, who with no introduction barks out “Why are you here?” and you know the rest.

My friends says, “Gee, nothing like a little humiliation to go with your frustration at no one listening to you.” Bingo. She wins the kewpie doll. I have heard everything from thyroid, malnutrition, (which I have, and I fight constantly) anemia, (B-12 injections, which I give myself once a month) bipolar, (I take medicine for) neuropathy, (yes, in my feet, not in my face and ears and chest.) I suspect they are putting it all on “ hold” until I get out of “medically needy” (State of Florida picks up the tab for 960.00 per month) to March of 2013, where Medicare and Simply Health take over and cost State of Florida 0.00. That’s my suspicion. Maybe, I'm faking it. That's the worst implication anyone can ever make and that makes me killing-furious. Anyone who knows me, knows that would never be the case. I've spent over 1/2 century with my mother's repudiations of living falsely ringing in my ears. Yeah, I'm a slow learner, but getting almost dead and homeless finally made that shit stick and it stuck hard.

Before I can ever, ever call bullshit on anyone or any institution around me, I have to be willing to ring the bullshit bell down on my own head, and I'm not seeing it here in the mirror. If you'd like me to play what-the-fuck-scramble-metaphors-Nebraska-Ave style, we do it swell here. I once overheard someone tell a pimp he was an astronaut because of all the space between his eyes. I learn the 'hood well. But you get my point.

So, rather than fight this battle and bore the daylights out of my poor readers and myself, this is my plan. So far, the TGH Neurology Department is 0 for 3 in my book. I worked at a Teaching Hospital; one of the finest, the University of Michigan when I was in school. It was chock full of fine people who loved nothing better than to answer your questions. They didn’t give a shit if you were a student or some guy off the street. They were there to teach and they taught. I learned a whole bunch.

This month’s nerve-fuckery has already started. 2 nights ago in as many tries, I burnt the bottom of my hand on the heel on the left side on the oven grill. I’m going to have to have JC pull the baking pans from the oven. I can't feel the heat so well and I sure as hell cannot see the distance. JC can pull the racks for me. No biggie. It’s just one more pain in my ever-growing pains in my ass. Anyway, I burnt my hand on the synovial, the left side. So, of course, my carpal nerves, on the right side screamed all night. Assholes.

It’s shit like that that the lack of dopamine causes your nerves to do this weird stuff. The worst thing for me is the racing heart; my pulse gets up to 120 or 130, blood pressure is normal. I weigh 102 lbs. I don’t have tremors all the time, especially in the morning. Most P.D. patients don’t. As many as 35% of Parkinson’s patients never develop tremors. I know that I have the problems with the mood swings. For the last 3 weeks, I’ve been really weepy. No particular reason; actually it’s probably a very good outlet, because it does control the impulse to want to hurt thems that deserve it. Bodily. I may have to resort to beheading. Just kidding. I have an appointment with my Primary Care Physician on Tuesday and I’m going to ask for a 2^nd opinion. I also have one or two friends who are out-of-network, as it were; I’m going to scratch around.

I find something else that is good. I laugh at some of the… Most. Idiotic. Stuff. Ever. I’ve always been this way. @YumaBev (follow her on Twitter! and at her blog, Parkinson's Humor) almost put me in a coma with her “Energeezer” comment. I commit what I call “cyber-terrorism” that in reality is no more than saying something asinine in response to someone else’s goofy picture on FB. Those eeCards are a riot. Time-suck wasters certainly, but chilling out is vastly under-rated at times. Cracked.com is a wonderful site to bust a gut over. Bonus points for learning cool shit, too. Robert Brockway, my favoritest columnist, the "Word Puncher" is one of the finest writers and the rawest. His "Lion Drome" segment nearly hospitalized me, it was that hilarious. Good times! 

Bryan on Runescape and I raise hell in our Clan Chat. Every time we start some awkward exchange, Killa pops in. This is typical:

DD: Yo hoe

VF: Fuck you

DD: Penis

VF: Tee hee

Killa(logs in): What the hell is going on here?

DD: Oops. Busted again.

VF: ha ha

In reality, Bryan is that old soul. We all know one or two in our life times. He’s the one I met three years ago. We still talk. There are three people from Runescape that I have known for several years since before homeless, since before sick, crazy and that I will always know. Bryan’s one of them. I don’t know why, he just is. We all have them. I don’t question. We all have some of these souls in our lives; they enrich us. JC is one as well. That was quite the digression. Stet; I’m in a hurry, today.

Laughing releases dopamine and I feel better for a while. The pain recedes; my nerves quit giving me hell. The pain in my shoulders and neck and head may stop. I also get out of my own whatever-this-is. I know other people have it far, far, worse. Thank God I don’t have ALS. I pray to all things Holy for people and their families who must deal with that. I know this isn’t it. It may be P.D. It may not be P.D. I’ll find out. From doctors who will care. For me.