Brain Dump

I don’t have a theme for tonight’s posting…just a few things to get off my chest.

Recently, the Sci-Fi channel began televising the WWE offshoot ECW: Extreme Championship Wrestling. Now, I know that professional wrestling is labeled as “fake” and thus can be considered fantasy…but, putting wrestling on the Sci-Fi channel is like putting Rugby on the Lifetime network, or American Idol re-runs on the History Channel.

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I went to a driving range to nights ago with my brother. Let me back this up a bit and give you some background…I’ve never played a round of golf in my life. The closest I’ve come is Putt-Putt. But, I got a free almost-set of clubs from my wife’s decidedly lesbian sister.

(When I say decidedly, I mean that she fits the stereotype to a “T”…just like a German in lederhosen, a Brit with bad teeth, or a Transvestite with Clown Makeup. She’s so butch, I’m pretty sure that she’s got a bigger dick than I do. She’s a great person, but man she is a really hardcore lesbo.)

So, I’m not sure what driving range etiquette is, but sure as hell laughed my ass off. When you suck as bad as I do, you can’t help but laugh. At least the large bucket of balls was only $6.

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The Ordinance Officer (Yes, officer hot pants) called the house last Friday and had a long talk with my wife. Yeah…any fantasy I may have had is completely gone now. Apparently, she handed out 50 violations that day and ours was just part of the “rounds” and not because any one person complained. Apparently, she forgets the conversation that she and I had in the yard…I can understand, I have that effect on most women in uniform. When we spoke, she said that she had a “complaint” on my next door neighbor…and 10 minutes later she handed me one too and acted like she didn’t know what in my yard could have caused the complaint.

Whatever…my shit’s cleaned up now…sort of.

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I think I’m becoming addicted to prescription drugs and porn. Not necessarily together.

My wife is a borderline hypochondriac and has several open prescriptions for pain meds and muscle relaxants. Vicoden and Flexiril, mostly. The other day, I got home and thought, “I could use a Vicoden.” I wasn’t in pain, I was just looking to get high. WTF? When did I become Chris Rock in New Jack City?

Porn. Holyshit is it stupid easy to find free porn and get it lightening fast on this laptop through my Yard Nazi’s connection. I consider myself a fan of porn, so much so that I have a favorite director. But, the dirt that you can get on the internet is so much worse. It’s like when I was a kid and I’d find a Swedish Erotica magazine next to a dumpster…no words like Playboy, just fucking…pure and simple.