Thursday, November 09, 2006

The apocalypse of daytime TV

It’s Wednesday afternoon and I’m watching The Ellen DeGeneres show.

There are two guys on skis jumping on trampolines.

Now she’s singing a karaoke version of I Will Survive with Emma Thompson, arguably one of the greatest actresses of our time.
Revelations 6.18: And they will jumpeth on skis to the sun, which as I mentioned, is like sackcloth. And Ellen and her infidels will cheer madly and eat the unripe figs and whathaveyou.
Next: Dr. Phil berating a 40-year-old plastic surgeon for dating a chick who just graduated high school.

They met on
And of course, there are commercials for the upcoming Barbra Streisand concert.

“A life. Changing. Experience.” said one particularly dramatic and verklempt fan.
Why are you torturing yourself with this, Heather?

I’m heavily medicated. I’d read, but I’m incapable of focusing on a page for more than a few seconds.

And it’s making me feel better about myself, oddly enough.
Yes. There’s a web site where shallow, greedy women can find stupid, wealthy men.

Yet another sign that the world is coming to an end soon.
Revelations 6.15: And lo, the kings of the earth, the nobles, the military officers, the rich, the powerful, hid themselves in the caves of the young, nubile women.

And Jesus wept.
I went to my regular doctor yesterday morning for what was supposed to be pre-op blood work and a physical.

She didn’t even bother with that stuff.

“What happened to your arm? And why are you coughing so much?”

Turns out what I thought was an irritating cold is a form of mono (not the high school make out kind, sadly.) And my arm, which I still can’t lift higher than my chest without experiencing Extreme Ow, now appears to be a torn rotator cuff. The MRI is tomorrow.

I’ve been ordered to rest in an attempt to get better for the much anticipated and long-awaited surgery next Wednesday. I’m on antibiotics, painkillers (Darvocet woo-hoo!) and an anti-inflammatory.

If I don’t get better by tomorrow, the surgery is postponed.

And that would be even more depressing than watching Ellen DeGeneres make out with Barbra Streisand in a fig tree.
I am listening to: The doggies rough-housing
I am reading: Nothing, sadly
And I am: Sick, sore and stoned


Drib said...

Dang...where is this cave you speak of? ;)

Sorry bout the mono and the torn cuff...

carrie said...

my boyfriend wants to know if there is a sugarmamma dot com?

Dave said...

Imagine my suprise! Literally rather than working, I went to "who links to me?" and found that you did. Not to be too gushy, but you are my first. I'll treasure you always.

I'd return the favor, but I am absolutely no good at html beyond knowing what the acronym stands for. I wonder if Borders has an HTML for Dummies book.

Hedy said...

I can't stand HTML and know just enough to be dangerous. It's great making the connection, Dave!

Linda said...

I don't think hot girls need to be on sites like this to get dates. Perhaps vanity is some factor. Not sure this really is a major appeal for hot women. I believe is more of a draw than this site for hot women.