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LoganLo On (or close to) Schedule |
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Tuesday, December 15, 2009 | |
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Speaking of "Eat-What-You-Kill" Location: still in front of computer screens Mood: fulla fiber Music: Early in the evenin' just about supper time  Turning from my last post, once wrote about this mouse in my house. Bugger wouldn't die. Just disappeared one day so figured some poison or cat got him. Fast forward to last week, when I left my pad decked out in a full suit. Forgot something so I turned around and ended up face-to-face with a mouse. We stared at each other for a second, all high noon-like, 'fore it turned and zipped inna my pad. Ran after it, dropping my briefcase. It flew into the bathroom so I did the same, slamming the door behind me to trap us both. Grabbing the metal wastebin in there, brought it down on it over and over again, missing each time. Neighbors musta thought I was clear starkers. Fast buggers, they are. Finally thought I got it but turns out the dents in the can gave it a second chance; when I lifted it, expecting to find the past-present form of mouse, it sprang away. So did I, leaping four feet back like a ten-year old girl doing double-dutch. Course, my bathroom's only three feet wide so ended up smashing in my cabinet door. Deep breath, flipped the can around and slammed it down one last time. Poor bastard, the last thing it ever saw was some crazed Asian-dude in a brown suit bringing down a dented silver metal can on it. To say that it was a bloody mess's not taking any literary license, lemme tell you. Dunno how people that kill things regularly, like farmers, do it. Then again, they're probably not wearing a sweat-soaked three-piece using a dustbin. Maybe they are; what do I know? Sorry little guy, didn't wanna, but hadta. Her: (noticing the missing can later) What happened to the trash can here? (surprised) And what happened to the cabinet door!? Me: (sighing) Y'don't wanna know. Her: (shaking head) I don't want to know. In other news: my bathroom floor's spotless, I've decided I wouldn't last in the wild; and I still hate AT&T. YASYCTAI: Think about where all the meat y'eat comes from. (2 mins/0.5 pts)  Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 3 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 8:54 AM :: |
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Tuesday, March 17, 2009 | |
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The pits Location: my apartment, all day Mood: ouch! Music: well pick me up with golden hand  Me: I think I need to go to the emergency room. Her: OK.
a) The salad has olives that have pits in them. b) There're olives with pits in the salad. c) Be careful eating this salad as the olives aren't pitted. Won't belabour the point but y'know what happens when you don't? One bleeding guest, one shattered tooth, four tabs of vicodin, one shot of some painful painkiller, 500mg of naproxen, three shots of lidocaine, three shots of novocaine, four tabs of sleeping pills, $3,000 of tooth damage, two visits to the dentist (with another nine to go), one root canal, and more drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. And lots of oatmeal. In fact, all the oatmeal one could eat. In short, it was...wait for it...the pits. However, Heartgirl did get to meet my mother and speak to my brother - although the circumstances were less than ideal. So that was my weekend, how was yours? Me: (drugged out) On the way here, I was thinking two things: (a) man, I'm in pain, and (b) wonder if that halal food cart is still serving food this late. Her: (shakes head) You know, I was just thinking this morning that I should get all your medical information. You have the worst luck. Her: (laughing) Where else was I going to go? YASYCTAI: If you get a feeling that a something is going to end badly, go with your gut. (10 mins/1 pt) www.loganlo.com Labels: stupid Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 1 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:03 AM :: |
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Tuesday, December 25, 2007 | |
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I'm a hazard to myself / Fiona / The War Location: on my family couch watching the tube Mood: slightly poisoned Music: always in a fight cuz I can't do nothin right  See, I spent the weekend moving stuff into my new office and wrestled on Saturday. My neck was killing me. So, at the rents, I popped about four tabs of naproxen. Then at night, I took about four tabs of Tylenol PM. I woke up the next morning and popped two more tabs of naproxen cause my neck was still busted. BUT it turns out my mom actually ran out of naproxen and put Tylenol into the naproxen bottle for reasons she doesn't remember. So I took 5000mg ((4+4+2)*500mg) of Tylenol within six hours - a potentially lethal dose. Luckily, my brother realized this before I took any more. Man, I'm my own worst enemy. ---------- Fiona and I aren't right for each other. It's not her fault - as usual, it's mostly me. My hands shake so much that I'm only able to use about 10% of my night shots. She's already gone. I need another camera with an anti-shake feature like this, but fast. The pictures I take remind me that the things I write about really happened. ---------- I'm watching The War with my father and brother. Crazy isn't it? To see how close we are to angels and animals at the same time. I forgot to breathe more than a few times. Seems like some things never change. Dunno why, but I find it appropriate for the holidays. Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 0 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:08 AM :: |
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| Don't you have better things to do than read ridiculous small print from some writer? Oh yeah, © 2006 Logan Lo, LLC. All rights reserved. |
