So my mother has an acquaintance, who I shall call Mrs. M. Mrs. M’s husband works or used to work with the Old Man. She has a bad-ass kid that my mother occasionally lets come over and fight with and beat-up on Ali. Now, my mother has her own issues with Mrs. M that seem to stem from a general xenophobia I’ve noticed on my mother’s part. But her issues are not mine. I think she’s a nice woman, and that her kid may need a bit more structure in his life before he gets hit with an ADHD diagnosis and drugs in the coming years. But that’s neither here…

So I went in this morning, nervous and hungry, to have all four of my wisdom teeth yanked. The bottom two were impacted, the top two fully grown in. I go into the waiting room, sit and read for a while, joke and play with Ali, and chat with Mother-dear until my name is called. I let them hook me up to their variety of machines, then Dr. Mid-West (sometimes I feel like I haven’t even left Terre Haute, Indiana… and then I see black people) comes in and gives me a shot while saying, “This will make you drunk. Things will spin around a little, then settle down.” I’d…

I polished off Kurt Vonnegut‘s Slapstick a couple of nights ago, and thought it would be geeky fun to break some copyright laws by posting excerpts I thought were interesting. (I am including references, though, so am I still breaking the law?) Very few of my thoughts about the book are any kind of deep–I enjoyed it, and some of the concepts will tickle the back of my brain for a while, but I must be lacking in experience with satire because the book didn’t strike me as being incredibly profound. This is most likely a reflection of my [lack of both] intellect and experience more than Vonnegut’s writing and…

Yeah, so how about spending the last hour and a half in a ticklefest in Dulin’s new car–while we’re driving down the highway? Of course, I’m sure his mother wondered why we sat in the car for five minutes in front of his house before actually leaving. And that car that kept driving back and forth through my parking lot must have wondered why two people were thrashing about in that car with the fogged up windows. Dulin was even enough of a bum to make a Titanic joke by sliding his hand down the foggy window. But it was a stalemate all around, since, while Dulin has picked up…