That barnacle brain don’t bend

So, more on the knee. And, yes, I know that some of you can hear the old age fairy at your door and don’t want to hear it. So, cover your ears.

And, Andy, if you missed the past few entries, please read them so you can properly insult me. Do me that one favor.

I don’t know if it feels better today or I’m just used to the searing pain and general icky feelings. Actually, it’s less the pain and more the icky at this point. Things don’t feel right and t hat’s not good.

Does anyone want another anatomy lesson?

If not (and I don’t imagine You do (just a hunch), please go down…he he I said go down.

See, as mentioned yesterday, I damaged the MCL. What they think I may also have done is ripped some of the meniscus. The meniscus pads the knee. It keeps the bones from rubbing together. So, with part of it torn, it hurts like hell to touch and to have weight on the joint. That’s the painful part. The MCL is more of an instability thing and as long as I keep the joint straight (Not as easy as it sounds), it doesn’t hurt much.

I was lucky not to hit the ACL. See, often, you get those 3 in one happy package called, as a professor once said “The unhappy triad”. Here’s how you do it:
Stand up and rotate your foot outward a little bit. Now, press on the lateral (outside) aspect of the knee. Feel that somewhat unpleasantness along the medial (Inside) edge? That’s it. What happens when you have your foot rotated outward and have a valgus force (From the outside) is that your MCL goes first, then the meniscus rips and then the ACL blows. Then, you lie down and wish for death. I hit numbers one and possibly 2. Fortunately not #3.

So, I’ll see what the next week brings. I’m keeping the brace on except to shower and sleep. I don’t want to get dependent on it, but for the next week, I need it. If it’s no better feeling, I go back to the doctor for an ortho referral where they’d likely do x-rays and an MRI to get a look at the inside. Then, I could need surgery.

Should I get it?

Well, and I’m getting way ahead of things here, I think I would. I don’t want to have to worry about it giving out again all the time. As I was saying to WarCryGirl earlier, I don’t want to have it go on me next summer while I’m tromping through a rainforest. Also, one of my “To Do’s” before I die is learning to surf. Gonna be hard to do if I’m all gimpy. They cut me soon; I can rehab it in time to go to St John and not have to worry about anything. But, as mentioned, I’m getting way ahead of things.

This sure does make the holidays interesting now. We still don’t know what we’re doing. Are we driving to FLA? Are we staying here? Are we going to NJ at all? Here’s my preference (in order)

1: Stay home and have Gramps visit
2: Stay home and have parts of my delusional family visit
3: Die
4: Drive to FLA
5: Go to NJ (Would have to fly because there ain’t no way I’m driving up there around the holidays)

I have nothing against FLA, but really don’t want to drive there and back in the span of like 4 days. It will not be fun. JewelrySlut agrees, but she also doesn’t want to leave her father alone. I can understand that and do not envy her position. She has her father on one hand who’s saying that it’s fine if we don’t visit and she’s got me on the other. Throw in my knee and she’s not having a rosy holiday outlook. My mother wants us to come for New Year’s. We could. We’d have to fly. We could also stay longer because I could go in to work while I was there. I could do it and miss very little (if any) work. Still…not something I want to do. The thought of being in their uncomfortable house is not one I like thinking. I really have no desire to go up there.

What would be nice would be to get ChurchBomber and MerlotMan here for New Year’s. We have some Continental vouchers that are about to expire that we could give them and they could get here for relatively cheap. That, or if we don’t go to FLA, I guess we COULD give them to my parents. Not like they need the $$, but would kvetch about it otherwise. Then, I tell SecretAgentBrother to either drive his ass here or pony up the $130 to come down on Southwest. Then, we can be uncomfortable, but at least be in our own house.

Know what else sucks?

No sex.

I know you and you don’t want to hear about it, but I’m not happy.

I also know that if you don’t properly identify this one when you link to her, she gets all mad. So here you go:


So, as I was saying…I so need me some ah-pussah. (What? I can’t say that here?) If it’s not people in the house, it’s that we’re too drunk. If it’s not that, it’s that we’re so damn tired. If that’s not it, it’s that we need to find a way to do it and not hurt me. Can I wear the knee brace to bed for Sensual Love Making? I’m just wondering. Can someone get me an answer?

Oh..I need to thank NerdFace for mailing me my stapler. I’d take a picture, but I’m too lazy. I’ll just say that it’s red and it’s awesome.

So, as I continue this rambling discourse of nothing…

MerlotMan and I got to talking and we may decide to be snobs when we go to St John. Would it be wrong to charter both a private taxi and a private boat for our journey from St Thomas to St John? See, you fly to St Thomas and then get herded into a minivan/taxi for a 25-30 minute trip across the island. From there, you hook up with a ferry for a 20 minute ride. But, things run on island time. We land at 3:40. We MUST make the 5:00 ferry or else. Or else what? Well, as it is, I’m going to have to ask the rental car company to leave us a key under the floor mat of have them leave it with our handler. If we get the 6:00 ferry, the handler may want more money or not let us in the house. That would suck. So, for not as much money as one would think, I could possibly charter us a ride and a boat. We’d be hella snobs. I think it’s worth looking into. I may need to get a captain’s hat if we do that. That would rule.

Boy, now that I think about it that was one hell of a pointless paragraph. Good for me.

I should just go. This is going nowhere.

I rounded first, never thought of the worst

I’m 31 fucking years old, folks. This kind of shit should not be happening to me.

Last night, I’m in our room unhooking a TV. We brought the one from our room to the basement for the weekend and I was in the process of replacing it. I was plugging and unplugging and decided to take one plug from the power strip to the wall. So, I leaned over the dresser and reached for the outlet.


There went my left knee.

Here’s what I think happened. I was standing with most of my weight on my left leg to best reach towards the outlet (remember, I’m reaching over a low dresser and then back down). When I leaned, my left knee gave in. The knee bent to the right (not a direction meant for knees) and I heard one of the most awful sounds I’ve ever heard. My knee sounded like it shattered. I think I have a MCL sprain. I think this because I saved some of my college textbooks, including an Athletic Training text. When I took that class, I knew I’d never “need” it, but it was cool and I figured it would eventually come in handy. It did.

So, I did the only thing I could think to do: fall to the ground like I’d been shot and start screaming. I mean screaming. Like I had been shot. I didn’t know if I should be screaming, crying or passing out. It was that bad. So, I screamed…and screamed.

JewelrySlut was all the way down here so it took her a few moments to get to me. By then, Shmuppie was standing over my mostly limp and loud body.

Naturally, the phone rang at that moment. I had also unplugged the phone in our room, so JewelrySlut had to go to the kitchen. It was QuasiWife who wanted to babble about this or that. Eventually, I made my way downstairs (mostly on my butt) and I got myself some ice. After I could see straight, I had JewelrySlut perform a few tests on me. I don’t think my ACL is torn. The mechanics of the injury were there for an ACL tear, but I think the test was negative. The MCL test also seemed not to indicate a tear, but I think that’s the problem. I can’t put weight on the leg and it’s starting to lock up.

Thanks to the joy of HMOs, I have an appointment at 11:30 with my primary…just to get a referral to an orthopedist. I think the end result will be crutches, a brace and some PT. I can’t fucking wait.

I mean, who the hell blows their knee while putting a plug into the wall.

Well, time to go. Wish me luck.

Update time

So, I’m back and I was right. MCL sprain.

They had a med student see me first. I told her before we got started that I went to school for exercise physiology and was hitting the Athletic Training book last night. She’s also an AT, so she went to work doing all the tests I had JewelrySlut do. The force of the injury wasn’t enough (or so they think) to tear a meniscus. That’s a good thing. Just a sprain and a lot of pain. There’s not much to do for the next 5-6 days but see if it gets worse. I bought a CVS-knee brace and have it on. It’s not that bad as long as I keep the knee straight. The MCL (if you care) is the ligament that runs down the inside portion of your knee. It joins up the Tibia (shin bone) and Femur (thigh bone). It holds the knee in place and doesn’t allow it to go side to side. So, it’s mostly OK to bend the knee, but it’s painful to turn it. I was doing a lot of sweating in the treatment room from the pain. The student felt bad because I imagine I was quite red.

But, maybe this is #3. 2 weeks ago, my back and chest hurt (likely a swimming overexertion). Then we had the Tales of the Thanksgiving Eye, and now this. Please let this be it. Please.

Come Monday, it will be alright

Shhh…do you hear it? Better yet, do you not hear it? What you’re not hearing is the noise and rumble of houseguests. I’m back from RDU, having dropped ChurchBomber and MerlotMan off and JewelrySlut and Shmuppie are dropping Gramps off right now. Let me bask in the silence for a moment or 2.


I feel like the cook in a mess hall by now. I’ve had it with the kitchen for a few days. Too many meals prepared.

Let me go back a few days to recap:

Gramps arrived from Tampa, tired and ornery over having had to travel. I swear; if the man never had to go 10 miles from his house, he’d be happiest. His flight was fine, but I don’t think he enjoyed Southwest. But, he got in and I made, of all things, corned beef and cabbage for dinner. Next to Thanksgiving, that’s his 2nd favorite thing to eat. We wanted to treat the old man right. left eye started itching. Later in the evening I noticed that the eye lid looked swollen. I took the only antihistamine we had in the house (a Claritin) and hoped for the best.

Hmmm…interesting. The eye looks worse. So, I got out of bed in search for any store that would be open at 7:00 and dispensing Benadryl. The local CircleK did the trick. It not only knocked down the swelling, it also knocked me on my ass. I took a nice mid-morning nap. Later in the day, I went to the airport to pick up ChurchBomber and MerlotMan while JewelrySlut and Shmuppie took Gramps to Quasi’s house.

The eye was not doing well.

We all got home and spent the evening doing food prep and baking. I had stuffings to make and prep, a turkey to clean, sweet potato pudding to make, and generalized mayhem to attend to. JewelrySlut had the last of the pies and the cranberries. We wrapped up at around 9:45.

They eye was bugging me.

5:30AM: Oh shit. I can’t open my left eye.

6:30AM: I got up to pee and confirmed my fears. They eye had swollen shut. I woke JewelrySlut and announced that we were going to the ER. I needed to get this thing treated right away. I wanted to beat the crowds and get dinner cooking.

So, we drove off to

With a tin cup for a chalice

Below is an email I just sent to MerlotMan. His Aunt is going in for brain surgery on Monday. As a result, they’re both coming tomorrow. He’s concerned that we have enough to drink.

Allow me to introduce to one of our proudest possessions. Our wine rack. It’s NEVER this filled. Usually, it’s more like empty.

Here’s the email:

We have 7 bottles of bubbly along the top
3 flavored wines underneath
Then, 2 big pinots, a chardonnay, 2 Rieslings, 1 Pies porter and an old Guvurstameiner (or however the hell you spell it)
Then a shelf of prime reds. I have a 2002 Rancho Zabaco Reserve Zinfandel for the 2 of us. I’m also opening one of my good NJ wines. The rest of that shelf is off limits. I could sell it and buy a car.
Then, 1 Beaujolais, a big Shiraz, a big cab/merlot blend and a big Italian Red

The rest is liquor
On the floor to the left is Big Blue

We still have to buy another of the Big Italian Reds and 2 Big Italian Whites.

That’s 16 bottles earmarked for consumption by Friday night. And, of those 16, 8 are 1.5L bottles and one is Big Blue (3L). Bringing us to 20 liters or roughly 5 gallons of wine.

That going to be enough for us?

And yes, you do see 11 bottles of rum there. 2 tequilas, 2 gins, 3 scotches, 2 cognacs and some others. Then there are the little bottles in the other cabinet.

Wow…we have a problem.

So, it should be good times.

I want to clarify something from yesterday. Quasi makes us cry because he’s a retard. He’s not mean…just a retard. We know they’re both adopted, so he and JewelrySlut are an example of how nature beats nurture. I often question who raised him because he has the social skills of a retarded sea cucumber.

An example: last weekend they were here to drop off a mini fridge that we needed to hold all the food for Thursday. So, he walks to the wine rack (seen above, but imagine with a lot less stuff on it”

Quasi: (Peering at the rum bottles) “So you got some more”
Me: No…same old stuff
Quasi: Oh…(scratched head…cocks head and eats whatever he just dug up) (Picks up a bottle off of the good shelf) Hmm…what’s this?
Me: (Mouth agape at the horror of it all)
Quasi: Hmmm…wine. Interesting.
Me: (See above)

It’s shit like that.

It will fucking kill you to death.

Should I throw you all a recipe here?

It’s a good one.

Anyone want to know how to make cranberry sauce?

Do you?

Ok…let me go get the recipe card…

Hold on…

Whoa…I’m back

2 Big pots
Cookie sheets
Food Mill
Some sort of mold
A car

1lb cranberries. Since they’re sold in 12oz bags, we make 3 lbs worth. Triple all ingredients)
2 cups water
2 cups sugar

Sort cranberries on cookie sheets, weeding out the funky ones. Use cookie sheets because JewelrySlut says so. Rinse the remaining ones. Put them and the water in a pot and cook the berries until the skins pop. Strain them using the mill into pot #2. Pour in the sugar and boil the whole mess for 20 minutes. Along the way, skim off the choad that forms. Pour into molds. Cool overnight (preferably on the roof of a car (See note about the cookie sheets to know why)).

Happy Cooking

She’s going out of my mind

Oh yea…so it’s been a rip roaring good time lately. Hence the lack of desire to write anything.

Oh well. I’ll recap

Thursday night: Fought with JewelrySlut about Shmuppie’s behavior. Not good times.

Friday: woke up in all sorts of pain. I felt like I was having a stroke or something. My upper back and chest were killing me. I figure I pulled/strained something in my back or ribs at the pool. Not good times. I could barely breathe. Got in huge fight with Shmuppie for pissing all over the place. As a result, her toys were taken away until she gets her act together. She’d taken about 47 million steps back and we’re both ready to kill her. During said fight, ChurchBomber called to tell us that MerlotMan’s aunt has some sort of brain tumor going on. Since he’s the only lucid member of his family, he’s kinds in charge of her and his father at this point (his mom passed away last month). So, he’s probably not coming down this week. ChurchBomber may just because she needs a rest from it all. So, and YES, I am selfish; I’m bummed out because thanksgiving has high suck potential if they don’t come. Because…

Saturday. Brother-in-Law (henceforth known as Quasi (as in moto)) calls. Now, he’s come in handy lately with his box moving skills, but otherwise, he’s a fucking retard. I mean it. Fucking retard. We’d been expecting and dreading this call. He wanted to know what time and what to bring on Thursday. Well, nearly 45 minutes later, JewelrySlut was nearly in tears. Talking to him is like talking to a retarded rock. We have no clue what they’re doing, but it hurts. This is also combined with her Father’s odd behavior lately. He’s coming in tomorrow from FLA. But lately, he’s just acting odd. Like he’s almost forgotten how to take care of himself. JewelrySlut’s naturally not happy. He’s 9 hours away by car and, generally, a pain in the ass. He’s not sure if he wants to come here for Christmas. Wha? So, maybe we’ll have to drive there. Like we need that mess. We rallied later in the day thanks to a nicely prepared diner and our friends Beaujolais and Champagne. If I’m still feeling nice, the recipe may even follow.

Sunday: A mostly OK day, but the dread of the coming week hangs over us. We did the Thanksgiving shopping. So far, we spent $152 on wine and $230 on food. And, the 2 people we really want to see probably aren’t coming. And, we still have 3 0r 4 bottles of wine to buy and all the fresh produce needed to buy. Good times. But, we mostly watched football and tracked our fantasy teams all day (1-3 for me on the day. But the 1 was against wifeypoo).

Shmuppie did well with the training. She had one accident on Saturday when she was in the bathroom trying to get the potty seat all set up when she let loose. So, maybe we made some progress.

Oh yea and work fucking sucks the nuts of the nastiest thing you can imagine.

So, last night, we (and when I say we, I mean I) watched The Poseidon Adventure on NBC. I liked the original, and this was starring Steve Gutenberg. Sign me the hell up. Well, it was worse than I could ever have imagined and when I say worse, I mean hella better. I could spend days going into the inaccuracies on the ship, but I won’t because you all are likely bored already. Needless to say, we drank a lot, I was enraptured and JewelrySlut was snoring. AWESOME!

The basement’s dry. That’s good. The final carpeting is tomorrow. That’s better.

I was reading something this morning and it said that a fun thing to do is Google your high school girlfriend. Since I had nothing better to do, I did it. Well, it seems she’s married and involved in her prep school’s alumni association (yes…prep school. What have I told you all? I went to snob school). I even found a picture from last year. She pretty much looks the same as she did in 1992. I think that scared me a little bit. Kinda one of those WHOA moments. Well, I hope she’s become a better lay since 1992. I would like to think that I have. Nothing like 2 teenagers bumbling and bumping against each other like drooling apes to start you on the journey towards sexual fulfillment. I shudder to think. But, giver her props. She was my first everything. I’ll give you all something else to belittle me over… We started dating in February of my junior year of high school and I’d never dated anyone prior to her. Yup. I was a loser. Big time. So, she got to break me in. Then the witchy voodoo woman in a bathing suit came along, plied me with contraband beer and sex and swept me away to a more better life. So, thanks to HRB. I guess you did OK. Or at least you did the best you could. Or at least…ah hell. It was a nightmare. The only thing left to do is ask the question: Well, now that you found her, what do you do with the information? Email her and say “So…see you got hitched. Good to see you got over me. You should hear what people told me for about 2 years after we broke up. Woohoo…you really were a fucking lunatic, weren’t you?”

Want a recipe?

No. Then get the fuck out. This is what I made on Saturday night. It was good and easy. Like JewelrySlut.

Hardware needed:
Big nonstick skillet
Cast iron skillet

2 big ass thick t-bone looking pork chops
2 bunches of spinach
4 cloves of garlic
2 shallots
Bread crumbs
Parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper
Chicken stock or water

Heat oven to 400 or so. Clean the spinach and trip off the nasty end stuff. Chop the garlic and shallots. Sauté them in a little oil in the non-stick pan until they smell lovely. Add the well-washed and well-dried spinach, lower heat and cover. Cook until it’s cooked. Season appropriately. Then, add a little stock or water. I had stock because I had just made some. Yes, I am gay. Add less than a cup. You know, enough. Then add the breadcrumbs and cheese until you have something that has the consistency of stuffing or paste or gloop. Spoon out about ½ a cup into a smaller bowl.

Take the porky goodness and slit (I said slit) open the big side to create a pocket. Stuff in maybe 1 tablespoons of the gloop. Not too much, you don’t want it running all over the place. Sear the shit out of the meat and then cook until done in the oven. Take them out, let them rest and plate with some more of the gloop. Serve with wine. Eat, enjoy, spend the night farting.

Good times.