It’s a No-Love-Thursday:
Thought for the Day:
Strange as it seems, no amount of learning can cure stupidity, and higher education positively fortifies it. Stephen Vizinczey
(The Love that Dare Not Speak it’s Name, a candid shot of Robin Williams and his sexual advances toward a seemly receptive Nolff.)
The Return of NLT:
…and bothers and sister I have no love for anyone other than you my loyal fans, Jesus, my Mama, my dogs, and of course my Petite Flower.
I started out the day going to the hospital to get wired up like a God-Damn Christmas Tree for a fucking heart monitor. I have a thing the size of a cigar box shoved in my pants even as we speak.
It seems my heart is currently reliving the days when I was a roadie for such musical greats as Canned Heat, Karen Carpenter and Molly Hatchet. My heart just takes off like I was doing lines of blow off of the asses of 16 year old Philippine stripers just outside of Subic Bay (not that I have ever done anything like that).
I can’t understand why? I feel has though I live a healthy lifestyle, a role model if you will, I would say I adapted my lifestyle from my father who I might add lived to be the ripe old age of 38, see, how well I am doing, I beat his record and baby I am on a roll.
I find it’s always nice to go somewhere were everyone knows your name, When I walked in to the hospital I was made to feel like Norm at Cheers, much to their surprise I was not bleeding, stabbed, or suffering from a gun shot wound, like last weekend. Nope, just in for the old ticker. I am told I have the heart of a 98 ½ year old man and after all the heart break I have seen I would believe it.
Now we get to the fun part, I am in the cardio lab, and am asked to take my shirt off, I do and the lab woman (whatever her title is), smiles coyly and says “boy this is going to be fun”. Now you the avid reader know that I am the very proud owner of a hairy back, kids the only thing hairier than my back is my chest. I now have ten 4 inch circles shaved into me. Yes, fucking crop circles, Dig it, I am Pure sex.
Next after wiring me up and giving me a gay-ass fanny pack to store this heart monitor into (they can make a cell phone the size of a silver dollar and this is the best they can do for a fucking heart monitor? More proof we never landed on the moon, need I say more?) I being me, chose not to wear the cute fanny pack the way it’s intended, instead I shoved it in the front. Package city…and yes these are Bugle Boys jeans I am wearing.
Now here is the best part, I am to take part in my normal daily activities. Yes, my normal daily activities. Since this is No-Love-Thursday, I think I am going to enjoy seeing what this crotch computer is going to say. Drinks, arguments and rampant sexual behavior, my norm. This is if I can talk Mrs. JQP into any sexual behavior with a guy who looks like her just escaped from ICU, or perhaps is one with the Borg.
When I went to the hospital this morning and parked at work, which it only a block away. I was told that above all I am not to get it wet (no shower for 24 hours). So, guess what I found upon my departure? A torrential down pour. Standing there thinking, great, now I will get fucking electrocuted by a heart monitor, I happened into Pastor Bob, who was making his sick calls fulfilling his chaplain duties at the hospital, he gladly gave me a ride back to my place of employ and we continued to make our plan of attack on Memphis week next, see I am lucky.
I have meetings all morning, followed by a running a few errands with my Flower around lunch, after which, guess what, more meetings. Someday, I would like to get a little work done around here. Also, I just found out I am teaching Saturday, I hate teaching Saturday morning summer classes.
All in all just another normal day in the life of a truly remarkable man.
Today’s Bill:
SONNET 140
Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
Lest sorrow lend me words and words express
The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;
As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
No news but health from their physicians know;
For if I should despair, I should grow mad,
And in my madness might speak ill of thee:
Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be,
That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.
Quote of the Day:
At times one remains faithful to a cause only because its opponents do not cease to be insipid. Friedrich Nietzsche
I remain, much like the dung beetle making little balls of your self-esteem:
JQP esq.
Strange as it seems, no amount of learning can cure stupidity, and higher education positively fortifies it. Stephen Vizinczey
(The Love that Dare Not Speak it’s Name, a candid shot of Robin Williams and his sexual advances toward a seemly receptive Nolff.)
The Return of NLT:
…and bothers and sister I have no love for anyone other than you my loyal fans, Jesus, my Mama, my dogs, and of course my Petite Flower.
I started out the day going to the hospital to get wired up like a God-Damn Christmas Tree for a fucking heart monitor. I have a thing the size of a cigar box shoved in my pants even as we speak.
It seems my heart is currently reliving the days when I was a roadie for such musical greats as Canned Heat, Karen Carpenter and Molly Hatchet. My heart just takes off like I was doing lines of blow off of the asses of 16 year old Philippine stripers just outside of Subic Bay (not that I have ever done anything like that).
I can’t understand why? I feel has though I live a healthy lifestyle, a role model if you will, I would say I adapted my lifestyle from my father who I might add lived to be the ripe old age of 38, see, how well I am doing, I beat his record and baby I am on a roll.
I find it’s always nice to go somewhere were everyone knows your name, When I walked in to the hospital I was made to feel like Norm at Cheers, much to their surprise I was not bleeding, stabbed, or suffering from a gun shot wound, like last weekend. Nope, just in for the old ticker. I am told I have the heart of a 98 ½ year old man and after all the heart break I have seen I would believe it.
Now we get to the fun part, I am in the cardio lab, and am asked to take my shirt off, I do and the lab woman (whatever her title is), smiles coyly and says “boy this is going to be fun”. Now you the avid reader know that I am the very proud owner of a hairy back, kids the only thing hairier than my back is my chest. I now have ten 4 inch circles shaved into me. Yes, fucking crop circles, Dig it, I am Pure sex.
Next after wiring me up and giving me a gay-ass fanny pack to store this heart monitor into (they can make a cell phone the size of a silver dollar and this is the best they can do for a fucking heart monitor? More proof we never landed on the moon, need I say more?) I being me, chose not to wear the cute fanny pack the way it’s intended, instead I shoved it in the front. Package city…and yes these are Bugle Boys jeans I am wearing.
Now here is the best part, I am to take part in my normal daily activities. Yes, my normal daily activities. Since this is No-Love-Thursday, I think I am going to enjoy seeing what this crotch computer is going to say. Drinks, arguments and rampant sexual behavior, my norm. This is if I can talk Mrs. JQP into any sexual behavior with a guy who looks like her just escaped from ICU, or perhaps is one with the Borg.
When I went to the hospital this morning and parked at work, which it only a block away. I was told that above all I am not to get it wet (no shower for 24 hours). So, guess what I found upon my departure? A torrential down pour. Standing there thinking, great, now I will get fucking electrocuted by a heart monitor, I happened into Pastor Bob, who was making his sick calls fulfilling his chaplain duties at the hospital, he gladly gave me a ride back to my place of employ and we continued to make our plan of attack on Memphis week next, see I am lucky.
I have meetings all morning, followed by a running a few errands with my Flower around lunch, after which, guess what, more meetings. Someday, I would like to get a little work done around here. Also, I just found out I am teaching Saturday, I hate teaching Saturday morning summer classes.
All in all just another normal day in the life of a truly remarkable man.
Today’s Bill:
SONNET 140
Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
Lest sorrow lend me words and words express
The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;
As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
No news but health from their physicians know;
For if I should despair, I should grow mad,
And in my madness might speak ill of thee:
Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be,
That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.
Quote of the Day:
At times one remains faithful to a cause only because its opponents do not cease to be insipid. Friedrich Nietzsche
I remain, much like the dung beetle making little balls of your self-esteem:
JQP esq.
posted by John Q. Public esq. at 2:20 AM
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