Day one begins.
The Journey to Find Jeff Fahey (or how I learned to stop worrying, and love the liver)
So, why Jeff Fahey as the name for my new liver? Well, he’s an amazing actor who started on an even more amazing movie called “Body Parts.”
It was how a serial killer was executed and Jeff Fahey got the extra parts of the killers body cause Jeff Fahey was in a terrible car crash.
The body parts Jeff Fahey got due to the horrific car crash then wanted to kill.
I believe I can train my new liver to love again if it’s evil.
Great 90s cinema.
Now I’ve seen it all. Vending machine pasta.
It’s labeled a snack. A snack?! Pasta?!
The processed meats above looked like they contain 28,000 mg of sodium.
Per single meat bite.
Now bored, and in pain. But at least Pam is happy.
This is the look I get when I’ve disturbed her from reading for the 6th time.
And asking her if the next Jeff Fahey joke is funny.
Man bun spotting number 2?!?!?!
I wonder if it’s a transplanted man bun. Something that might have happened to Jeff Fahey in the 90s movie “Body Parts.”
Or the sequel: “Hair Parts.”
Edit: Pam informed me this is a girl. Still funny and I stand by it.
And we’re off to discover where is the world is Jeff Fahey?
The human Jeff Fahey is probably in LA, but the liver Jeff Fahey is most likely somewhere within a 200 mile radius of Phoenix.
Most likely the liver Jeff Fahey just got back from the local Safeway in a small town bordering Nevada. In that rusty old car that’s doomed in about 57 days.
A stark reminder for Pam.
Jeff Fahey would never smoke.
I want to travel with Jeff Fahey.
A reminder…
…for liver Jeff Fahey if he’d rather be involved in a small, but deadly explosion:
And we landed!!!
So…where all the abortions at?
I love that I just found out…
…that in Thailand, Body Parts was known as “Cut to Pieces then Create Hell”.
That’s just funny.
Now I’m in a hotel room…
…with a kitchenette. At least there’s a pool here. It was 97 degrees today.
It’s weird though, not having sweat from any pore for like 10 months. Even when exercising.
Damn water pills.
Ah the morning.
Didn’t sleep last night, a luxurious combo of my beautiful, lovely, smart, passionate, goddess of a wife’s snoring, and nerves.
Plus the massive debilitating cramp in my legs. When they come on, it feels like how I would imagine electrocution. Kind of like Matt Dillon in the movie Mr. Wonderful.
Just don’t want to do any of this. Just let me keep Mel Gibson (AKA Braveheart in the movie Braveheart). (Editors note: this is the name of my current liver.)
Pictured: advanced cirrhosis.
At least I’m not working and driving around in a Dodge Bighorn with a dual cab and a HEMI. And then there’s the Texas plates. I think I need to lean into this a bit.
Oh, and I haven’t eaten in 24 hours, have a fasting blood test in an hour, then procedures until 6.
Fun.
Sushi!!
I got to have sushi for lunch! It was actually pretty good, but in a bar like atmosphere, which was weird. Everything‘s fusion out here. There is fusion Asian burgers, Fusion tex sushi, fusion people, you get the idea, everything’s fusion. But driving a Dodge Hemi makes everything better. (Retails for about $53,470.95. This sweet baby was made in Hamtramck, Michigan.)
The Fun of it All
I had my first appointment this morning. It was pretty fun. Met with a nurse first, and she told us things completely different from what we’ve heard from Kaiser. She mentioned we can take a fly out the day before the transplant. That’s funny because Kaiser told us we might have to move out there for a couple of months. At any rate, that’s good to know.
I told her my Jeff Fahey name. She thought it was hysterical. Then she left and a doctor in training came in and she was all business. Asked me tons of questions. So naturally, I had to try to make her laugh. I forget what I said, but it was something about pooping then not pooping then pooping more then pooping again then not pooping.
The doctor came in and he was pretty much tired already. I guess long morning? He caught my shirt. He thought it was hysterical. For those of you who don’t know, it’s a shirt that says property of Mayo Clinic Phoenix, Arizona. I told him I was going to retire it like baseball players retired jerseys once I get all this done. I’ll give it to him.
Oh my god…
We saw Godzilla X Kong! It was so amazingly stupid amazingly amazing. I haven’t had that much fun in a movie in like two years. To make fun of it would be a fool’s errand because you’d find yourself making fun of the entire movie which might put you in the hospital. Just due to sarcastic syndrome.
It was in the amazing movie theater too. I took some pictures so enjoy. One is of a new type of amenity: not only can you go to the bathroom here, they also provide places to throw up. Amazing.
More pictures of the movie theater.
I bought a blanket for Pam while here, that had the logo for the theater chain. A blanket. In 98° F weather. (Or 36.67° C weather for you non-Americans, anti-Liberian’s or hatred-focused on the Cayman islanders, or for you non-Judge Dredd, accepting of both measurement system, lovers of the the internationally acclaimed, multi-platinum, multi-award-winning, and nominated vocal group, 98 degrees.)
Helpful tip: For conversion to Celsius, subtract 30 from the temperature in degrees Fahrenheit, and then divide by 2 to get the temperature in degrees Celsius.
Anyway, yes, a blanket. They looked at me very strangely, but it was cold in the theater, and Pam loved it. 🙂
Here are pics of the theater, that looked like fancy people stuff:
And one more.
Pam found a way to enjoy both french fries, and vanilla ice cream.
Today!!!
I started off with a video visit with a addiction psychologist. By the end of the visit, I had her calling me sweetie pie. But, now I have to go to AA classes or Dharma. I was meeting with my therapist, but I guess that’s not enough for a transplant. So, on to AA. Or Dharma. But not both. I don’t think I could handle that much.
You know, Jeff Fahey was also in a movie called Lawnmower Man with Pierce Brosnan. It was based on some Stephen King short story. He played the lawnmower man. And he lived in the shed behind Pierce Brosnan‘s house. He was also a little slow. But rocked his beautiful blue eyes. Then he got into the computer and turned into the lawnmower man. Which actually could be a sequel to body parts, if you think about it.
So, Jeff Fahey is sucked into a computer and becomes an evil villain. He survives, because there’s a sequel with Matt Frewer. The second one is pretty bad, but let’s stick to the first one. So he becomes the computer or something and starts doing evil things as an early CG program. I don’t know, like messing up computer systems and lawnmowers and stuff like that.
But then let’s say, sake of argument, Jeff Fahey gets out of the computer, goes to college gets a job and tries to forget his past with Pierce Brosnan. However, one day he’s in a tragic accident and loses his arms. (and let’s also pretend he loses a couple of organs too, one of which is the liver.)
So, lawnmower man is actually a prequel sequel slightly based in the future, but takes place before body parts.
Mel Gibson is a dick.
Please enjoy this photo of a very old ambulance. Possibly a predecessor to the ambulance that was used in Lethal Weapon 3. After they caught the guy who was jaywalking and didn’t have his drivers license on him. And the guy kept saying, “ I don’t have my drivers license on me, okay? I was walking! Okay? I was walking!”
Then human Mel Gibson notices an ambulance, no wait. It wasn’t an ambulance. It was a bank truck. I know there was an ambulance in one of those movies, but yeah, it was like a money truck. And they were stealing money and Mel Gibson ran up to it and threw his baton at the guys arm, knocking him down, and then jumped on the truck. It was a cool scene.
I left this out…
Yesterday, I also had an echocardiogram. It was exactly how you’d expect it, both echoey and cardiogramy.
Results came back as I expected, which was, guess what? Your body is falling apart and you need a new liver. I hate the liver Mel Gibson. He’s a jerk in real life, and as an unsuspectingly named dying liver.
Anyway, here is a picture of the entrance.
Sorry, the east entrance.
So…
After the addiction therapist, I went to the Mayo Clinic and did a chest x-ray, and an EKG. Both took about 45 minutes total.
Oh, and I forgot to mention. It was super weird that I had to do a video call this morning with the addiction person. I mean, they’re right down the road! Why couldn’t I drive to go see them? Why did I meet with a guy beforehand to verify who I was, as he seemed really disinterested. And why, why, for the love of God, did I have to talk to her for so long. I mean, I had her convinced with my charm that I was the best person ever to walk the face of the Earth and that she should be listening to me because I’m fairly certain I know everything except Pam, I don’t understand Pam. That’s my fault. It has to do with something like I don’t pay attention or something. I don’t know I wasn’t really listening.
Oh, and she started calling me sweetie pie. But I think I mentioned that already.
Now, please enjoy a picture of the outside of the Frank Lloyd Wright House in Arizona. It was pretty cool, but it was 44 bucks to get in. Each. And, you had to do an audio tour. You were like forced to. I hate that. And as much as I hate liver Mel Gibson, he really hated it and wanted to go home. I think he was hungry. We stopped at someplace called Wildflower that looks like a Panera like sister shop. They had sandwiches and some brie pistachio bread that I inhaled. And it had fig jam on it too. I love jam.
Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, here’s a picture of the outside of the Frank Lloyd Wright House. Or the parking lot. I can’t remember. I was tired. And Pam spent money at the gift store.
Here’s some thing I thought was funny.
Totally random, but I was driving down the freeway in my hemi dodge ram, and a nationwide building appears to my right. You know, the insurance company and they have a jingle. Everyone knows it. But as we pass the building, I sang “nationwide is on that side.”
I thought I was hysterical.
And what’s with the new logo? Building society? Are they really building society with insurance? Or just creating a compound structure of eventual economic and sociopolitical failure?
That’s just funny. Like a dog staring at you with scared, possessed eyes, locking you in a cartoonish gaze while pooping funny.
A beautiful sunset.
End of line.
Tired now.
Appointment in the morning at 7:10 with a social worker. Fun.
Then I meet with the surgeon. Which is kind of awesome. Surgeons are always Rockstars. Some of them think they’re gods.
Kinda like that movie Malice with Alec Baldwin. That was a pretty good movie. I saw that as a double feature when I was 18. I was in Salem Oregon waiting on this chick who I was hanging out with that evening. So I saw Malice, and A Good Son the one with Macaulay Culkin and Elijah Wood. That was a good movie. It isn’t my favorite double feature ever though. That would be the Negotiator with Samuel L. Jackson, and then BASEketball.
Anyway, in Malice Alec Baldwin says “you think I’m playing god? Let me tell you something. I am god.” Pretty classic line, but sums up surgeons.
Best ever. Here is a picture of us in the 95 degree heat.
What a day.
I think this is all going to be one update because I’m tired, and I got a lot of information today. Not bad information, just information.
I feel like I’m in the combination of two movies. One is Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey. Specifically, that scene with Death and Bill and Ted are playing battleship and Death goes “you sunk my battleship!“, in a deliciously over the top German accent, as only William Sadler can. And they beat him at so many games, including twister, that they end up getting a second chance to go back to earth to save their father or their teacher, no wait, their girlfriends from getting held captive by the evil robot Bill and Ted controlled by a guy who doesn’t like George Carlin. I don’t know, it’s an amazing movie but anyways my lesson from that is it constantly feels like I wanna get through to the other side of this all, but in order to do that, I need to play death at a series of really cheesy Hasbro games. I don’t know why I feel like that.
The other movie is called Repo Man or Repo Men, with Jude Law and Forest Whitaker. (Not the amazing one with Emilio.) It had to do with like the future and they get organs from people who got surgery, but they have to repossess the organs because they didn’t make payment on the organs or something. I remember the end of the movie being Jude Law trapped in a room, doing massive self surgery stuffing a bunch of organs into himself or pulling them out. Not the greatest movie in the world, but I had fun watching it.
I say all of that to say this, I feel like pulling organs out of my body, then stuffing organs back in my body and then playing death at a bunch of games and then winning some sort of prize. Kind of like a fortune cookie at the end of a Chinese meal. And fortune cookies aren’t even Chinese. They’re an American invention. But it feels like the prize for all of this is a fortune cookie. And it’ll have a little note in it. And then say something like, “don’t get too used to it.“ And that’s it. And my winning numbers would be 7, 8, 37!, 72, five.
The five will be spelled out like that instead of just the number, and the 37 will have the exclamation point, just to keep me wondering, is it like that so I add the two together and pull greater meaning from my fortune? Or realize it means there is no meaning to any of this anyway…
Now I want Chinese food. Although I had shrimp tacos today and they were pretty good.
Oh yeah, the information I got today. I met with the surgeon, and he was very blunt but in a good way. (Totally looked like Nick Kroll from The League) He basically told me my MELD score is super high. (The MELD score, or model for end-stage liver disease, is used to determine your eligibility for transplant based on 3 objective variables: serum bilirubin, serum creatinine, and institutional normalized ratio, or INR.) Normal MELD is ~6, mine is 28, 40 is dead.
Fucking mad science, yo.
I’m going to most likely move out here is a few weeks. In so many words, I’m dying fairly quickly now and need to get this done or its curtains. (Sorry if that sentence hit you, the reader, like a ton of bricks, just no way around that one.) As Robin Williams famously said in the best comedy ever, The Birdcage: It’s like riding a psychotic horse toward a burning stable.
Too many things could continue to wrong with my body if we don’t do this now. So, there’s that. (Very similar to the sudden decision Dante made when opening the Quick Stop that day. The weak parallel is there, you just have to waste your time looking for it.) My hernia also had the potential to rupture at this point and cause sepsis. If that happens, they can’t do the surgery, and that’s the end of video rental stores.
However if everything goes as planned, it’ll be okay. But they’ll probably remove my belly button. (Along with my gallbladder and Mel Gibson.)
He was super nice and shot me straight which I loved. But a little floaty and metaphysical in my thoughts right now.
I miss my dog.
And to some extent, my cat.
Here’s a fun picture at the aquarium today. This was from the bathrooms. It’s what you see as you wash your hands. 🙂
Also, balls.
More aquarium photos:
Pam made me take this video/picture…
…then she edited it to do a little dance, since it was a Live Photo. It made me laugh.
Tomorrow is free, so meeting up with a work friend, seeing another movie, going to the botanical gardens and getting a White Castle burger!! Never had one at their restaurant, and super excited!! But just one because fast food will kill you quicker than a bad liver. I heard Jeff Fahey, star of the hit TV show Lost, once said that.
Jeff Fahey also once famously said, “Eventually, I’ll build a ranch and raise horses.”
Wise words. For me my ranch is causing problems, and I was born to raise hell.
Nothing compared to Mel Gibson’s famous words though, ”They think I’m crazy, and maybe I am. But maybe I’m a genius.”
Or my favorite streams of genius thought, from the man himself (whose name is also the name of my current dying liver that’ll be ripped out and most likely studied at some college under the headline: What not to do to your body) is:
“What are you looking at sugar-tits?”
Truly a genius at work.
Movie Time!
I desperately need to watch this movie again. So good. Don’t know how it came up tonight in my brain, but it just did. Love the movies of Joe Dante.
And for the road:
Pictures of the man himself:
Can’t sleep.
And almost forgot! Last night we had a ton of fun cooking dinner. BBQed steaks out in the commons area, had some pear salad, fruit, and some hot and spicy noodles. It was fantastic. I ate as much as I could, which was tantamount to a child’s portion, but nevertheless still amazing.
Also found out the place where we are staying is for like Mayo Clinic people undergoing similar things, (like super scary surgery) or people on an extended stay, like military people. Pam’s met a bunch of them (because of course she has) and it’s like a super nice version of Melrose Place. Looks like it too. I’ve already spotted the Dr. Shaw one, but she doesn’t look like she stands in front of a mirror with a massive headache, all of a sudden revealing this huge crazy scar under her hair. Michael Mancini was a dick.
I used to watch this show with a friend in her apartment, on a tiny little 7 inch black and white TV we bought at the goodwill for like 10 bucks, and the reception was just over the air UHF/VHF with bunny ears. We had to keep moving them, and we had to watch it on the floor cause there were like 2 outlets in the whole apartment. The TV was black and white with all the interference of a 90s scrambled adult channel. This was in Oregon, in like 1994. I think I was barely 19.
Anyway, it looks like Melrose Place too. I have a picture of the BBQ for scale, and the gratuitous silly steaks shot. (Not pictured: hot and spicy noodles. So instead, please enjoy Noodles McIntosh)
Oh!! And big cup girl! We spotted a big cup girl!! Those things are so stupid. It’s like buying a 4×4 that never goes off-road. Or attending a lovely church service on Sunday, but you’re a practicing satanist. Both useless life activities.
Anyway, a picture of that uselessness. And it’s silly, even here. Just spend your money on a useful water bottle. Not a funny looking tower of stupidity from Starbucks. Man I hate Starbucks. So much stupidity.
And another thing Mabel! Have I ever told you of my dislike of painfully arrogant, stupid, but they think they’re smart, misogynist, soulless men who are not always, but mostly in sales? No? You know, the ones who didn’t want to get married, but got married anyway, have 2.5 children, a “special” office, man caves, and single buddies who encourage them to just “take the hit” and get a divorce? Well, let me spin you a…oh wait, the picture.
Wow. It’s 6pm.
This day has been the first all fun day this week! Slept in, (Pam lovingly brought me some breakfast so I could eat a bit at like 7, and go back to bed. An indulgence for certain.) got up, slowly got ready, and then found myself at the botanical garden outside the city. It was pretty cool! Did the whole thing, almost. Which isn’t the whole thing I guess, but most of it. The funny thing is, as Timothy Olyphant states in A Perfect Getaway, pay attention and keep your situational awareness. ( A great David Twohy movie. Look up this writer director. He’s made some of the best movies. The Riddick series, Below, The Arrival. Good stuff.) Timothy Olyphant also says “outstanding!” quite a bit. This is kind of where I fell in love with Timothy Olyphant. He’s cool, he’s good looking, he has great hair, and he’s funny. And good at acting. And lives next to Conan O’Brien. I could keep going and keep going, but it’s between him, and Heather Graham, as fighting for number one at the top of my laminated card.
Oh! And there was this lady who was a super bright crayon. She was even dressed like one. Just the purest example of a straight up idiot.
She wanted to take a picture of some small creature. She got on the ground and started calling it like a desert mouse or something like it was a rare creature. Pam came up, looked at it, looked at her, and goes, “it’s a rat.” And walked away. She scoffed at Pam, took more pictures, then went to one of the docents to show off the majestic creature she found. The docent looked at the picture, looked at her, and goes, “it’s a rat.” And walked away. She then told her friends about this amazing story of the rat and chatting with the docent.
Here is the rat:
So mind numbingly, Farmer Needs A Wife watching, enjoys talking trash about their good friend conversing. physically and painfully dumb individual. I’m sure her children are the property of Carl’s Jr.
At any rate, funny to see how little people understand or are aware of what’s around them. This is how and why scams exist. I mean, this is how pickpocketing became a thing. This is how identity theft is such a huge business. People don’t pay attention to their surroundings. And it’s super simple! But, I guess it’s just easier to be an idiot.
After that, met up with an awesome work friend and had a blast! It was super fun just chatting about things that weren’t this for a bit. I needed that.
When we walked outside, there was this gorgeous Lamborghini parked right there. A guy was checking it out, and asked Pam if it was her car. She said yes. He went, oh!!
Pam followed that up with “no, it’s not mine”, but she told me later you always say yes. The guy walked away slightly confused, and Pam was just stoked someone thought she could own a lambo.
Then, the ill fated White Castle. I had to try it. Never been to one. At least a bite was necessary.
We got it, and took a bite, then another, then said, okay, so we can now check that off the list for the rest of our lives. It wasn’t terrible, but you could taste the sodium. Having tried it now, I can also safely say, while Harold and Kumar was funny, White Castle is definitely, 100% for stoned individuals. Like the kind of ones who dig around in the car ashtray and under the seat looking for loose change. We are talking troubled people. Ones who don’t care what their food taste like, only that it comes in cute square burger form. I mean, it’s fast food. What are you gonna do. I think that was the first time I’ve had fast food in years or at least 316 days.
Anyway, we’re trying to figure out what to do tonight. A movie? Or Pam‘s pizza? The movie is The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare, or pizza that Dave Portnoy scored an 8.3 in one of his reviews. Which is super high for his reviews. Comes highly recommended.
So one more decision for today, then the fun of tomorrow for a few more appointments and packing to go home. I actually really like Scottsdale. It reminds me of a hot bath. At first it’s slightly unpleasant with the heat, then you get used to it. Then, you’re like Mike Myers on SNL. You know that sketch where he plays that character Simon in the bathtub? And does interviews with other people in the bathtub? And it’s all about his drawings. Scottsdale is kinda like that. Once you get used to the heat, which isn’t that bad, there’s tons of stuff to do here. Really good food, really nice stores, great people and Phoenix is right next-door. It’ll be a fun place to relocate to for a little bit.
So here’s today’s pictures. I don’t think I took any pictures of White Castle, because that’s just weird. taking pictures of food you didn’t cook is weirder than actually taking pictures of food you did cook. Both are equally weird, and one is much weirder than the other. (I will post a picture of our pizza later though.)
It’s like food bloggers, or food influencers? Whatever they call themselves, they are confusing and useless. They talk about food, but it’s kind of like this looks good, and then they eat it, and then they say if it was good or bad. And that’s it. And people listen to them. Holy crap we’re dumb…
Btw, one of the pictures is a “Where’s Andrew?” Photo. 🙂
So this is fun.
We just ordered pizza from the pizza place Pam wanted to order from. Looked pretty good. They had this caprese salad that I really wanted to try. We decided to order in, because we were kind of tired from today. And it sounded like fun to just hang out in the room eat some pizza (actually, I was just gonna have some fruit and noodles, but Pam was super excited) and watch some TV. Maybe even a movie. Something fun to hang out, have a chill night, and just relax. The pizza place had different ideas. They built a website that was slightly broken, but it had a link to order from them. So I clicked the link, and I went to a third-party site that was a legit site. I entered my information, and ordered the pizza. Now, I used Apple Pay, as I didn’t want to enter my card. Turns out that was a wise move. The order form broke, but the charge went through. Twice. So now I have to reject payment. Thankfully that’s super easy with credit cards, but no pizza from that place for us, as they didn’t even get the order.
Good times.
I should have know better. Everything inside of me said “stop! Just call them and pick it up!” But nooooo. I decided to be lazy and stupid. That’ll teach me. Thankfully both sites are just broken and I used Apple Pay, so little risk. But still dumb as hell.
Here’s the place we settled on as a legit backup. I had a slice. It was pretty good and super cheap. Pam is back to happy. 😊
Please enjoy me continuing to be dumb today by posting a picture of our food, like an idiot foodie or something:
It’s 1am.
Pam is asleep, snoring soundly, and of course, I’m up. And double of course my brain starts going…
So, you know what I can’t stand?
(Aside from a lot of things. Or everything right now.) Movies about surgery, support groups, or life balances before major surgery to fix cancer or something, and life after that, If you still exist.
Let’s look at the ones I want to make fun of (and can remember) as if I’ve seen them and know what I’m talking about.
50/50. Dumb. Dumb true life story. Hey! Cancer can be funny! We need to recognize the humor and laugh! Cause cancer is for real. Here is a funny scene about shaving my head. Let’s use that for the poster!
Fuck you.
Your poster is dumb.
Six Pounds with Will Smith. Doing good by donating parts of your organs. Making yourself feel better after doing something dumb. Like causing an accident that killed a bunch of people, including your wife.
Fuck you. And fuck you Will Smith. Your serious movies reek of Oscar ploys. You don’t care and I’m glad you’re kicked out of a job now.
Terms of Endearment. I’ll sum it up with a quote from a review, “the characters are a wonderful reminder that support is always right around the corner.”
The coveted double fuck you.
————————–———–
You go through this, that final moment they put you under, your damn self regardless of the awesome people around you. It’s scary, lonely, and any strength people say you have is a made up lie.
We’d all make a deal with the devil at that moment in time.
You may even ask yourself why me? And is there greater purpose or meaning here? Just like the person who may have recently died for no reason, but you got their organ, there is no reason, answer to the question why, or greater meaning. It all just happens for no reason whatsoever. You exist, live, then you die. That’s it. Timelines just happen to be shorter for some. And as a species we love to create, project and associate meaning with anything and everything.
To quote Kids in the Hall: Brain Candy:
When I was a little boy, my mother used to sing me a song. It went like this: “Life is short, life is shit, and soon it will be over.”
————————–———–
Anyway, you know what movies hit the mark on this subject? Crank 2, Re-Animator, Dr. Giggles, Repo Men, and of course, Body Parts. Starting the great King of Kansas, Earl of El Paso, Duke of Detroit, your friend and mine, Jeff Fahey.
For obvious reasons, Walton Goggins is a close third on the awesome scale. Right behind Timothy Olyphant.
Just a reminder:
Well that was interesting.
Woke up this morning to thinking I was hacked last night. My notes were deleted from April and replaced with this message:
Turns out I was just being paranoid as I had my notes set up to access with voice, and I most likely pressed something that recorded me sleep talking.
Btw, where are you when I need you Jeff Fahey?!
At any rate, unimportant and everything was secure. On to other news.
Had two back to back appointments today, one with the doc and the other with the nutritionist. The doctor had moved the appointment up from 4 PM to noon. Which is fine with us, we wanted to get today over with and get home.
I will now break these into western like chapters for your amusement. John Wayne style.
Chapter One: The Doctor
So we done met with thuh doc fuhrst. Talked a bit about thuh week eend thuh immediacy. The-yn started jawing about hepatitis c organs, which ya kay-yun ope-yn uhp ya criteria t’ now since thuh vuhrus ‘as a cyhaw now. It’s less than 5% awf livers that come in, but important ta consider. It felt like a decision was bein’ asked for that week. ‘e assured me it wasn’t, an that we could allers change our decision at any taahm. Eve-yn ifin’ we done said yes, thuh offered us one with hepatitis c, eend we done changed our mahnds. Felt daisy ta thihnk about, ifin’ for jus’ a day, ta may-uk thuh raahyt decision. After that, we done said we’ll tawk duhrectly, an that was it for thuh week. I’m guessin’ i’m out thair by thuh end awf may with immediacy awf all this.
Chapter Two: The Nutritionist
So, the-yn we done met with thuh nutritionist. She was super nahce eend saw us a bit early so we could git out awf thair. She done walked us through all thuh stuff we wanna do after thuh surgery, an we done talked a lot about what maah diet is like now. Purty daisy, eve-yn though thuh hernia is givin’ me massive amounts awf pain eend ah can’t exercise as much anymo-wr. Which plumb pisses me awk. But, i’ll tay-uk what ah kay-yun git. She gave us a few booklets, took some notes, an sent us awn our way. Ah thihnk at that point, pam an ah were kahnd awf at each other‘s throat a bit. It’s bee-yn a week, we’re tuhred, we’ve bee-yn through tons awf appointments jawing about how much ah need thuh surgery as duhrectly as possible or else ah cash in. We jus’ had some vittles done at thuh cafeteria too, she done had a black bean burger, an ah done had a salad that ah didn’t pay for, for some reason. But whatevher. We were ‘appy t’ git out awf thair.
Okay. Enough of that.
So then after the pizza debacle last night, I took Pam to Trevor’s to get her a glass of wine and a pizza. I won’t lie, I had some pizza and it was fantastic. Really cool spot. Delicious Margherita pizza!
Im tired, and we leave tomorrow.
But most likely back very soon. Which is cool. I really just want this over.
But I’m bored, cause I want to watch an episode of Fallout, and Pam is on the phone.
So, I’ve got another rant. This one is on the lighter side. Yet might be controversial though.
Why in gods name do we care about Quentin Tarantino? Or movie stars for that matter?
Don’t get me wrong. I love his movies, but who cares about him? Why are we required to know his name? Who cares that he’s only making one more movie? I love that he knows a lot about movies. I know a lot about movies. Probably not as much as he knows about movies. But I don’t really care how much he knows about movies. And I know most people don’t care that I cook really good homemade tomato soup. Because it doesn’t matter. People tend to romanticize their own life through others lives. We look at people like Quentin Tarantino or Steven Spielberg, or Robert Downey Jr., Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, Sally Fields, Tom Cruise, or “fill in the blank here” actors name to help us make sense with our lives. Or go, look at the amazing stuff they’re doing. They are such a good person. Guess what? They are normal people who make mistakes and everyone pays attention to them. Most are shitty people who treat people less than them like trash. Some of them are OK, but why do I care? Why should anyone care? Who cares if my good deeds are known to all? Who cares if I hide the bad things I do and highlight the good things to make myself seem even better.
At any rate, it’s not that I dislike these people, it’s that I just don’t know them. I don’t know who they are, I’ve never met them, and most likely never will. Because I don’t care to meet them. I don’t care about autographs. They have a job which is to entertain me, and then I get to go home. That’s what they wanted to do, and that’s what they signed up for. But as for who they are? I just don’t care. Unless they like beat puppies or something.
So I see all that to say this. If it’s Quentin Tarantino’s last movie cool, whatever. He made a bunch of them over the course of almost 30 years, and most of them were pretty good if not great. His films will be deconstructed for years to come in film studies classes. But who cares who has the vision. Alfred Hitchcock used to call actors cattle. He was close in that regard. All filmmakers, entertainers, and actors are cattle. They are there to entertain us. Do their best work on stage. Let us talk about something that isn’t our sad, pathetic, boring, work ridden lives. We shouldn’t care who these people are.
But goddamnit, they should entertain the fuck out of us.
This applies to everyone except for Jeff Fahey. He gets a pass. Cause he and Gary Graham (star of a great movie: RobotJox) are better than everyone else.
Phrases.
I hate phrases right now. Things were people try to sum things up with stupid little quips.
Many movies have already gone over things like, been there done that. Or I heard that. But what about ones that make people sound like they’re projecting some sort of grand feeling on you. Like you’re smarter than what you’re thinking about right then. One of my favorites, is you look like you’re 1000 miles away right now. And really, my mind is just thinking about tacos, if I want guacamole or not, and if Obama really gets down on a taco? Or does he go for the burrito or taco bowl? I might be drooling a little bit, my beard getting wet from the stupid thought that’s running through my brain, but I’m not gonna order tacos. I’m just thinking about them for some godforsaken reason, and they are just running through my head along with some kind of dumb fantasy about Obama. And someone tells me my stare looks like I’m thinking of something that has world changing qualities. Like I’m really pondering the answers to the universe, or really thinking about what my next life step should be. Welp, the answer is no.
I am thinking about tacos.
Another one of my absolute favorites of all time, is a phrase that can have a few different ways to say it, but they all have mean the same thing. And that phrase is: I could do it if I had the time, but I’m just too busy.
Fuck you.
That’s a stupid persons way of saying that they’re better than you. It screams they can’t think of anything else to say that has a tinge of emotional intelligence. So they say that shit, that probably took you years to learn, and is something they could do if they wanted to, but they don’t have the time right now. Seriously, these people are a two day old piece of chewing gum that’s been in the dead heat, and run over by like 30 cars.
Let’s try a double header on for size. How about this? You must be the change you wish to see in the world. And, many hands makes light work.
Let’s start with number one. Shut the fuck up with your hippie agenda. You know, the thing you didn’t go to school for, like middle eastern history and politics. You’re a silly little child who heard something from your even dumber friend, or read on the internet. No one really cares how much you stick your mug into something, only that it’s annoying.
You want to be change? Stop talking and acting like YOU protesting does anything to sway global geopolitics. Because most likely YOU are doing it for the wrong reasons. Protesting does significantly work: for rights, freedoms, and injustices throughout history. But if you look at most of the protests that had any massive social impact, most (not all) predate the Internet. Now, it’s full of people who read a blog, and they skimmed it at best. And the protest that they’re joining might actually mean something, but then they show up. The ones on their phones the whole time. The ones who chain themselves to things to get back at daddy, and they understand, at best, the name of the place this thing is happening in. (But they can’t pronounce it.)
If you don’t understand the whole issue, read more. Become less of a person who cares how they dress for the protest, and instead understand truly why this is happening. Or, go over to where this is happening and help where you are needed, (hopefully it’s latrine duty) or help distribute food that was donated. Teach local children to read in low income areas. Donate your money to schools that need it instead of giving it to Starbucks or your local church. Do something that is difficult and requires thought, if you want to be change.
Do it that way. It’s hard, shouldn’t be easy. So instead of talking about how you need to run Frankenstein out of town, be the pitchfork, not the idiot carrying it. (How’s that for a dumb, confusing metaphor?)
Okay, onto the next. Many hands make light work. No. Fuck no.
It’s still hard work. More people just make it quicker. But that doesn’t take away from the difficulty of it. If you have 10 people lifting a metal beam and you had 10 more people to help lift that metal beam, you’re still lifting a metal beam. Just shut up and do the work. This is just reverse complaining. Makes you look like a banana.
That one was easy. And, as we all know, been there, done that.
Sarcasm.
I think it’s gotten the best of me.
Travel. Ugh.
So much pain.
Got to the airport with limited trouble, but we are very much thinking about how we might kill each other when we get home. I can’t tell if Pam is trying to figure out how to make it look like an accident in my feeble and deceptive state, or if she’s just upset. I am guessing both. And I’m probably right…hey! I’m right about something! Good for me.
Anyway, I’m really being a jerk. I wanna tell her I’m sorry, but I don’t want to give in quite yet. So I’m holding out, even though I’m totally frigging wrong, and getting increasingly mean. Why do I keep doubling down. Ugh, I know what I’m doing, but that’s just me. I am a lovable, adorable jerk.
Anyway, we’ll skip the details, but made it to the flight. Liver Mel Gibson is quite the jerk. Taking off was very painful for me. But here we are, in the air, headed to get the dog and get home. To bed. And watch more Fallout.
Pausing for now.
Will most likely pick this back up when part two starts. But for those who are curious, we got home safely. We got the dog. I emptied my bag so all my laundry was in the laundry basket. Because Pam will want to do laundry, and I don’t think I can physically get up anymore. So, I did it now.
Cool thing is when I got home my new official ordained minister for The Church of Latter-Day Dude, came in the mail I was gone. I am now an official dudeist priest, ordained on April 6, 2024.
Pictured: my membership card, and certificate.
As per usual with this stuff, I now have the authority to preside over any religious, sacred or ceremonial ritual, including marriage, funeral services, religious counseling, christenings, and blessings or consecration ceremonies.
It’s funny, I’ve now performed two marriages. One of our friends who’ve been happily married for almost 20 years, with four children. Lovely children, three boys and one girl. So in other words, some trouble, and three ways for her to get out of it.
The other marriage was in Vegas. It was two friends, Julie and Tala. I performed a ceremony of love, I think. The bartender made a ring. We had drunken witnesses, Pam, our good friend Steff, and a bunch of drunk individuals around the bar cheering them on. It was fun, stupid crazy fun. A lovely night.
So until next time. When I’ll be picking up Jeff Fahey from the hospital. (And leaving that jerk liver Mel Gibson by the side of the road, hopefully in Malibu. One can dream.)
For fun, here is how I looked at the beginning of all this versus now. 290/300 lbs versus 245 (or 220 when I can exercise more.)
Later Skater! 🛹
Check out part two!