Old Creaky Bones

Well, it's official.

My body hates me.

Until now, it had only been a suspect in the myriad of crimes against myself. Today, as a shock to the world, all mysteries have been solved.

Many isolated events have led me to this conclusion. Events such as my appendix blowing up on me, my pancreas going kaput, my head splitting open (actually, that was my fault), a busted ankle that has still yet to diminish to its normal size (normal being the size prior to injury), and a throwing shoulder that throbs for a decent amount of time after throwing lightly for less than half an hour.

Yesterday, things got worse. Corey's dog enjoys running upstairs, prying into a room (usually mine) and taking a giant dump on the floor. I got extremely angry as this is the third time in the last few weeks. I chased the dog to toss him outside on his leash while i cleaned up his mess. At some point through the chase, I felt a twinge in my lower back. For the rest of the day I felt awful.

When Corey got home late last night, we got a wild hair and decided to go running. Here is why that was a bad idea: I haven't run for years. YEARS. I would gather that it has been at least three years since I have laced up any type of running shoe. The most running I've done since was running from my car to a door in the rain....and I ususally don't even do that, 'cause I don't really mind getting wet.

So we did it. Ran at least a mile. Nowhere near "race pace". Probably about an 8 or 9 minute mile. My back hurt the whole time. My legs were wobbly. I even turned my ankle slightly when I stepped off the jogging path for a second to avoid a giant pile of duck dookie. The one thing I have to hang my hat on is that I didn't stop. Not once. I ran the whole time at a somewhat even pace and never stopped to catch my breath, which seemed to be a couple of steps behind me.

Getting old sucks. A quarter of a century and my body is falling apart.

Hyperbole

I swear I have a third nipple.

No lie. It's either a third nipple or a mosquito keeps biting me in the exact same damn place. I personally find it easier to believe that I have Polythelia than to believe that a series of blood-sucking insects are able to repeatedly land and slurp from the same spot below my right useless man nipple. I suppose the only thing that detracts me from this theory is that it only lies approximately one inch from the bottom of the real deal.

All I do know is that it hurts like hell. I was exiting the shower after my early afternoon de-funk-ification, and as I began to towel off in my usually refined pattern, I rubbed over the area in question with my towel. Like I have alluded to, this is not the first time I've noticed the problem. I would venture to say this is at least the third time my polythelia has flared up.

I guess I'll rummage around for some Neosporin or something. Maybe that'll disappear the little bugger for a while. Not that I want it to go away, I just prefer for it not to itch, burn, sting or throb whenever I dry off after showering.

In other news, searching for a job sucks.

Well, I'm off to find something constructive to do, like get a doctor's appointment or a sandwich.

I'm Ready For Some Football

I've been steadily digesting a healthy diet of sports over the last week that I've been home from "touring". It's been an impressive run of college football (GEAUX TIGERS!), pre-season NFL, the pennant races of Major League Baseball, and sadly......the WNBA.

I swear, I only watched the game tonight because I was told by two lesbians that it was the Title-clinching game. But Detroit evened the series with Sacramento in the best of 5 series. And now I'm not really sure what those lesbians were talking about when they mentioned the Title-clinching game........is that like a "Strawberry Shortcake"?

Anyway......College Football is absolutely in FULL swing. Corey and I attended a gathering of LSU alums at a restaurant in Cary, NC last weekend to watch LSU beat the hell out of U-la-la. I guess we're gonna do the same this weekend for the game against Arizona.

But on to more important matters......

You know who has the worst job in Football?

That's right.......the Back Judge. The Back Judge is an official with the job of standing at the very end of the field in the direction the play is headed. He is usually the guy that calls pass interference or defensive holding. He also spends most of the game staring at the asses of football players. However, that is not the worst part of his job.

This is:

Your boy has to wander around the field all day long with the letters "BJ" tagged onto his zebra suit. Drag. How bad can life be for this guy? BAD! Think about the people you know that have been to a college or professional football game. Or perhaps, you've been to a game yourself? Hearken back to your experiences at said games. Do you remember the alcohol intake before and/or during the game? Then again, if it was like any of the games I went to, you don't remember much of anything. All I know is that the maturity level of the whole crowd usually dips slightly after a healthy amount of tailgating, thus lending to an atmosphere normally associated with middle school boys.

I'm sure Back Judges get more than their share of hell all over the nation. So the next time you see one of these poor saps, be sure to encourage him in his chosen profession with these words of encouragement:

"HEY BACK JUDGE!!! GET OFF YOUR KNEES, YOU'RE BLOWING THE GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"