say something about ... yourself!

so my first visit to the ER pretty much illustrated to me how much the er really sucks. i was moving some stuff into my new apartment in the building, and i picked up a lamp via the bottom and the stem (since if you just try via the stem it'll come out of the base) and as i picked it up it hit the ceiling (one of the parts was shorter than the other and i thought i was clear), causing the glass platform below the lightbulb to break and glass to come down all over me. i then felt the same feeling i felt when i got kicked in the face a while back which caused a huge gash, started to the bathroom, saw the blood drip onto the floor and knew i was fucked. 40 minutes later my brother gave me a ride to the ER.

the worst part for me was sitting there feeling awful, bleeding like hell and dealing with a bunch of paperwork and health insurance crap with a bureaucrat while i'm bleeding out before i get treatment. seriously it was morbid as hell sitting there trying to deal with all this crap while all i can think about is my face gushing blood. finally it was done and they shot my face up with novocaine and did the stiching (got 4, felt really gross having them essentially stringing wire through my face and pulling on my skin while blood runs down the back of my neck) and then after that i waited even longer, shirtless in the room (felt really embarassing) until they cleaned me up and sent me out.

now i'm home and i took a shower just to wash off the blood, cleaned up the glass and am thinking about how much this fucked my night. crazy how a little thing like being 1 foot closer to a lowered portion of the ceiling can make the difference between that entire er trip and the shitty bill i'm going to get as well as the probable scar vs nothing happening at all. fuck.
 
Now, now, let's respect Deron's wish. If they take his ads, he'll be losing a shit ton of money on this place. I'll offer a clothed picture as consolation prize.

N3.jpg


Ah, those puppy eyes...
 
So, yesterday I went to my favorite lunch joint in San Francisco, the HRD CoffeeShop on 3rd and Bryant. I usually go pretty late in the day, as there is typically a line, and I hate waiting in lines.

As I approached, I saw a few folding chairs in front of the door, signifying that they were closing up for the day. Funny, they usually close at 3, and it's only 2:15.

"Sorry Brooks, we're out of food!" yells Gary, the cashier, from inside. I do a double take, and realize what happened.

This had just aired:



FUCK YOU GUY FIERI, FUCK YOU!

carusofuckyou2rr.gif
 
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