That's right, people... I said 5

So here we are... another delicious Thursday afternoon in sunny Rochester. Literally, it is sunny, so I'm not my typical cynical and sarcastic self. The weather is beautiful... wish you were here.

Anyway, on with my rant...

Today I had to go to the hand specialist again to pick up the paperwork that he had to fill out for my company. I got all the way to the car before I decided to flip through and make sure that it was all filled out and, sure enough, there was one page incomplete. Bummer. I did, however, have a sparkling realization while I was headed back up to this guy's office, and here it is; when people ask him what he does for a living, he can honestly say, "I have a hand job." What a great line of work. Next time I'm in there I'm going to ask him how I can get a hand job. Now there's a career path I may have overlooked. Yes, I did make myself laugh out loud in the elevator. I am the funniest person I know.

So anyway, while I'm now into my second week of disability leave with my gimpy thumb, I've gotten fairly used to getting up, brushing my teeth, and logging on to CNN.com. There is a story on there today, and I couldn't make this shit up. Whoever the crack journalist is that wrote this headline should be given the fucking Pulitzer. The headline was; "Wal-Mart Shooting Suspect Mentally Disturbed." Really? No shit? I would have thought that this guy was completely mentally stable. Typically when I read about some asshole that goes on a shooting rampage in the parking lot of a high volume deep discount retailer with geriatric patients in navy blue vests and name tags with smiley-face stickers greeting me when I go in the store, I actually say to myself in my best game show host voice, "wow... this guy's really got his shit together!" Again, for those of you who are new to my literary endeavors, I was expressing sarcasm.

It's stupid shit like this that makes me think that I could write for CNN. Granted, I may not have the political insight as say a Tucker Carlson (he's a dick, by the way), but I think I could throw together better slop than the rubbish that I read today. I think the only problem that I would have with that would be if they made me travel to the Middle East where tall, blonde haired, blue eyed geeks like me typically wind up minus a head. That would just suck, and I don't think I'd be able to be out on disability for an injury like that... otherwise, sign me up.

The funny thing about that story is every time they catch some sicko on the news, every one of his neighbors says something to the effect of, "yeah, he seemed like a really nice, normal guy... he nurtured orchids and raised hamsters... I never saw this coming." You never see the neighbors coming out and saying, "oh yeah... saw this one a mile away, it was just a matter of time before this guy snapped... he used to sit out on the porch with a shotgun, Mein Kampf, and a turtle named Timmy that he would take orders from." I digress. This Wal-Mart jackass apparently was a state mental patient. Way to take care of your own, Arizona.

Ladies and gentlemen, I've been through five, that's right, five shrinks in my life. I don't mean shrinks or shrinkage in the Seinfeld sense of the word... I mean therapists. They were all worthless, or, on second thought, maybe they were really good but I was just too fucked up to even deal with them. Either way, the point that I'm making here is that after all five of those quacks, you're still not going to find me in a parking lot waving a gun around... well, at least not at Wal-Mart.

Regardless, my apologies for the short post this evening. I've been up entirely too late recently and I think it's affecting my creativity and literary prowess. Either that or the Vicodin is turning me into a complete moron. My money's on the former.

So that's it for this evening, kids... gotta run to Wegman's and pray that there's a space close. There damn well better be... but don't worry, I don't own a firearm.

Until next time...

R