Streaming Friday!! On Tuesday!!

I am tired and my mind seems to be bottled up so I guess I shall do something I haven’t in a quite awhile…

Pass me a glass of Rose and fire me up a smoke, ‘cause it’s Stream of Consciousness Friiiiiiiiiiiiiday.

Okay it’s actually Tuuuuuuuesday, but what the hell.

My ribs are slowly getting better, but I tell ya. I never realized how painful it is to take a dump while nursing bruised ribs.

Holy Crap!! Flexing those bowel muscles can really put a hurt on a fella with bad ribs.

Hell, last Sunday I was painfully passing a steak dinner when I think I popped two of my bruised ribs and three sternocostal joints. Ohhhhh Baby!!

Eight days until my meatless Lent begins…Good thing I like yogurt…and beans…and watching Schmoop eat a footlong chili dog.

I love it when she dribbles chili down her chin. I like to lick it off, but alas my Meatlessness for the Messiah will prevent me from doing that.

Jeebus better damn well appreciate my sacrifice. I need a beer….and a smoke…hold on, folks. Ahhhhhhhh, zehr gut!!

Y’know...?

As Liberal as I am, I cannot stomach Keith Olbermann or Rachel Maddow.

I’d rather stick hot needles in my eyes than watch them.

And yet…I do. Go frickin’ figure. Maybe I’m a masochist. But, I don’t think I am. ‘Cause I haven’t been diggin’ the rib pain.

Let me double check…

Nope, I just punched myself in my bruised ribs and my tally whacker didn’t move.

I work today, and then off for three!! I decided I would use my days off to do something completely different…

Accomplish something!! I may even go to the grocery and stock up on Lent food.

Although, Schmoop did just buy me beans o’ plenty this past weekend.

Hell, the cabinet door keeps poppin’ open simply from the gas potential. It’s wacky!! Clang, Clang, Clang, went the trolley.

Okay that’s it for me…I’m exhausted and my stream grows weak. Oh wait!!

No, never mind…that was stupid anyway. Or was it? Hell, I don’t know.

I’m off to read some Jean Genet. I hope I don’t end up having gay, prison sex dreams as a result of it.

Cheers!!

La Prova è nel Gusto...True, But When?

As some of you may know, I have not had the best of luck of late.

My kid is struggling with priorities. Schmoop has been cut back to 3 days.

I got rejected by Bob and Tom, and cracked my left side ribs.

So, in order to pick our spirits up and forget the bad things for awhile, we decided to order a pizza delivered to the warm confines of the Bagwine digs.

That’s right, we decided to have free pizza delivered from Cassano’s courtesy of a Birthday gift certificate I received from my brother Marte’ and his wife just the other day.

Well, thirty minutes after Schmoop called our order in, someone from Cassano’s called back…

To tell us that our order was on the way? To tell us to enjoy the pie? Hahahahaha (Matt-Man laughed with both angst and anger.)

Nooooooo, to tell us that our certificate card was not going through.

That’s fine. Schmoop read it off again, and after another few minutes and another phone call, read it again along with the PIN Number.

No Luck…However!!

At this point, Cassano’s told Schmoop that since the card number isn’t “coming up” if she was to come in, they would give her a 25 PERCENT DISCOUNT!!

Woo Hoo!! What a deal…

Getting 25% off of a pizza that is FREE!! WTF!?

I love Cassano’s. Schmoop loves Cassano’s. Hell, Mick has been here and HE loves Cassano’s. But…

They screwed us, and they screwed us at a point in my banged up rib life that I can’t accept. It has frickin’ ticked me off.

Things have not gone well of late, and this incident just topped things off. I like good customer service. It’s a lost art.

Y’know? As much as Drive-By Mikey, Pizza Bill, and I chuckle and cut up at the Drive-Thru, as long as you are not an asshole, you get A-1 customer service.

(Hell, if you’re a hot chick, you can get hot sex as well. Free!! But seriously…)

Where has customer service gone? 25% off of an already paid for pizza? But only if you pick it up?

Cassano’s, I am very disappointed.

I e-mailed Cassano’s, and hopefully they will make this right. If not?

Well…if they don’t, I will never buy pizza from them again, and that is no little thing, because we do like their pie…a lot.

Cheers!!

My Ribs Are Trashed

Y’know…

In Monday’s post, I asked for a break.

Well, I got what I asked for…in a way.

Monday, in the deep, dark of the Bagwine night, I went to throw some trash into the dumpster at work.

While the picture that you see is a picture of the dumpster at our apartment complex, the one at work looks much the same.

And hence, this post...

I took the trash out at work Monday night, but when I threw open the lid, it started to come back down.

Acting like the 23 year old that I think that I am, I jumped and lunged at the descending lid and smashed my left side ribs into the Vulcanized steel of the dumpster.

While I have an incredible tolerance for pain, I almost passed out…and nearly threw up. I hit it that hard.

Because of the sheer force and torque of my incredible thighs (and yes, Schmoop can confirm that “incredible” claim) that propelled me…

It was like getting blindsided by Ray Lewis after catching a short, over the middle pass or taking a body shot from George Foreman.

It…fricking…hurt.

And so, rather than working on Tuesday, Pizza Bill graciously agreed to work for me, and I will work for him on Friday.

On top of that, the owner, Drive-By Mike (Thanks for the name, Phfrankie), said to Schmoop as she went through the Drive-Thru late Tuesday...

“Some people will do anything to get out of work.”

That’s so sweet.

Ha…I think he was kidding.

Here’s the thing...with bruised, cracked, or broken ribs…Ya can’t do a damn thing about them. They just have to heal.

Well folks, I can’t bend over. I can’t get comfortable in order to sleep.

I can’t flex my colon without pain in order to rid myself of the sub that Pizza Bill gave me Monday night.

More than painful, my condition is very, very, annoying and time consuming. Hell, it took me nearly 40 minutes to shower and get dressed Tuesday.

I wish my ribs were healthy, sexy, and looked as good as though as those that support Mizz Megan Fox, but alas, they are fucked up.

Mine…not hers.

And guess what else?

I can’t sit down, because it puts pressure on my bruised bones, and yet, I have to go to Ryno’s today and type out a Science Report that he wrote.

But, being the good father that I am, I will go over there by 10 AM and oversee said Science Project for the little guy.

In my, what may seem to be, over dramatized distress, I want to thank Schmoop, Pizza Bill, and Drive-By Mikey and his wife…

I appreciate all of their shift switching, help around the house, and offers of painkilling narcotics.

Cheers!!