monkey on the roof with a hammer

So depending on how the weather is this coming weekend, I may have the priviledge of re-roofing the house. Oh what fun that will be. This is not an empty promise/threat. I know this because I was rudely woken up early last Saturday, the only day I actually get to sleep in, to help unload 50 packs of shingles. They are sitting at the top of the driveway awaiting their final destination about 20ft vertically from where their current position. Not sure how they are getting up there but I'm thinkin they are gonna need some help.

oh god damn it!!!!

I finally got around to buying Ninja Gaiden Black for the Xbox. I was so excited to play more video game adventures as a ninja. I have been wanting to play this since it came out. Well it turns out that I have played this game. It damn near identical to the first one. Yeah they added some new weapons and challenges but it's basically the same. I am a little miffed and disappointed.

eye

So a little while ago, I noticed my eye was a little blurry. I looked in the mirror and saw that my pupils were 2 different sizes. I had Marilyn Manson eyes. I knew this could not be good. My parents inssited I go to the doctors the very next day and my sister kept saying it is a sign of brain damage.

I went to the doctor and he told me to see and optimalogist, which I did a few days later. By this point, my eye was back to normal, obviously. It only lasted about 12hrs so none of the medical professionals got to see it.

At the eye doctor's they dilated my eyes. See picture below.


He then shone some bright lights in my eyes that afterward made everything have a shade of red on it. He concluded the was nothing wrong and that if it happened again I should come back immediately. I had the feeling that he was not quite believing my story.

As I was leaving, I asked for a business card. The receptionist point toward them and I walked over to get one. I felt like Jerry in the episode of Seinfeld when he where glass that have the wrong prescription. I could barely make out what was on the card.

Going outside was hell on my eyes. The sun reflected off everything. I prolly should not have been driving with light being that was it was. I had to swint the whole way home. I should have brought my Willy Wonka goggles.

telemarketers

Telemarkets call everyday for me this is nothing new. Usually they are foreign and I can't understand them or I instantly recognize who they are and hang up. A few days ago I got a call and listened for a little while longer than usual for who knows what reason but I think it paid off.

Caller:"Hello, is this K?"
Me:"Yeah."
Caller:"My name is Jammica and I'm with Publisher Clearing House."
Me:"Go on."
Caller:"I am calling to tell you that you have definitely won some money that will be awarded to you as some date next year. But I need to ask you some questions."
Me:"Shoot."
Caller:"Do you carry a Visa, Mastercard or Discover card?"
Me:"Yes."
Caller:"Which one of those companies offers you you the best service?"
Me:"I carry a card, but I don't really use it so I can't answer your question."
Caller:"Um, what?"
Me:"Well like I said before, I carry a card, but I don't really use it so I can't answer your question."
Caller: "..." *click*

Yeah, so she hung up on me. Was it something I said? I thought I was being polite.

My horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day.

I started off my Saturday waking up at 2pm which is not odd since it is my only day of the week I get to sleep in. Too late for lunch so I would have to wait until dinner to eat, again nothing new. As I lay there pondering things I struck upon the notion that I had a lost pair of shorts and I wanted to wear them. I started looking under my bed. And what do you know there they were crammed in the far back. I patted myself on the back for a mission accomplished under 5 minutes. As I went to climb back in bed to watch tv I saw a little wiggly thing on the carpet. I got closer and saw that it was indeed alive and that it was not alone. So many thoughts ran through my head I can't even begin to put them into words. So I started scouting the house as to where I could put all my stuff because I know my room had to be emptied.

As I was walking through the kitchen, I snagged my pants on a cabinet handle and damn near ripped the pocket off. I thought to myself, "Well that's just fuckin' great." I continued on my search. I ended up locating a sweet piece of real estate out on the porch. So the exodus began.

Time passed and dinner finally came. I eat more than I should have after starving most of the day. Not too long afterward I realized how true my previous statement was. I can't really explain it but I had a bad feeling in my nether region and I felt like I was going to shit my pants. I took it easy for the next 2 hrs as waves of pain struck my colon. After multiple attempts to relieve the pressure, nothing seemed to want to abandon ship.

Okay so that was over and I had to leave my room for something. I gentle laid my hand on the dresser to get by my mount of crap in my room partially blocking the door when gravity threw it's hat in the ring. My dresser had and uneven weight distribution and my hand broke the camel's back. The whole thing leaned toward me and everything on top started to slide in my direction. Panicing, I dove in front and buttressed it so I could save all my electronic I keep on top of it. I managed to prevent this cascade but I quickly realized I was now stuck there and had to bend over very cautiously to unload the weight that was skewing the balance. Seriously, if it had fallen on me, I would have been really hurt, maybe even death.

I was able to get most of the small shit out of my room and then had to get on my hand and knees and vaccuum the whole floor. I inspected every inch so as to no miss and any of those little buggers. I hope I didn't but I am not done yet so we will see. As of this moment, I have a huge pile of stuff outside wrapped up in a large blue tarp.

After a little investigation I have come to the conclusion that they are carpet beetles in their larval form. And all this came about because I wanted a particular pair of pants.

My sister has been looking in my room through out the day to determine how much her room is at risk. She is expecting to see my floor just covered in writhing little bodies.

right out the window

After my week alone with the dog, I had set up the basic foundation for Ruby to be house trained. I took her out every couple hours and rewarded for going outside. I only had to change a couple of the mats that were inside.

Then my sister got back from vacation. I explained to her what I had did and she seemed pleased with the results. But she did not factor her laziness and the fact this was just the beginning of a regiment that would need to be maintained to see permanent results. After 2 days Ruby was sliding back in her progress. Here it is, about 3 weeks after her return and Ruby goes more in the house than not. I walked away from the situation and rarely take her out. Not becasue I want her to go in the house but because all my sister had to do was walked the dog outside a few times a day for a few weeks. Really nothing strenuous. It's like she is proving something, like she is the only one that can train her dog. She is too inconsistent for that to ever happen.

she makes no sense

... or maybe it is just me.

As I have mentioned before, my mom is obsessed with my under-shirts being whiter than white. She would rather they be worn once and be throw away then for me to wear one that might look like I actually wore it before.

Well today, I walked downstairs to get my laundry out of the dryer and I find her rummaging through my clothes. She claims that it just happened to click off as she was standing there so she figured she would fold my clothes for me. First of all she has not folded my clothes for quite some time now, I don't know why she would start doing it again now. Secondly, she was using this as an oppurtunity to sort out the older shirts and confiscate them from me. I heard her say, "These would make good rags, but I don't know where to put them that he will not take them back."

She told me to throw them away countless times, but it is ok for her to keep them in the house. She agrues that they are cheap and that I should just buy new ones. There is nothing wrong with the old ones, no one sees them outside of the house. Yeah, I could buy new ones, but I will get to wear them once maybe twice before she is up my ass again. More and more I understand why my dad refers to her as Monk from time to time.