My Addled Brain

There must be something wrong with me. I’m posting far too often.

Been to the doctor’s again, this time to take the infamous Tilt Table Test. You’d think, with a name like “Tilt Table”, that the experience would be akin to an amusement park ride. But no, they just strap you to a table, and tilt it up about 88 degrees, so you’re almost completely upright. You have to stand still - no shuffling feet, no shifting weight, no drastic body movement, for about an hour. Short story shorter - it sucked.

I suppose there would have been a payoff if a problem had been discovered…but alas. I am as fit as an overweight fiddle. Victory is mine! I have smited the foul passing-out beast! Bring on the hookers and booze!

But the worst part about it? Getting the IV setup put in. I am the first to admit that I’m a HUGE baby when it comes to needles - so when the nurses couldn’t get the vein after three tries…I was a bit…perturbed. They finally got it on the fourth go-around (up my forearm), but now I look like a junkie with all these track marks. Isn’t medical science wonderful? They can do non-invasive surgery with tiny robotic instruments, but they can’t pop a needle into a rather visible vein? I’m fairly certain I could train a monkey to do it.

Robby has taken all of this with more than a little amusement at my expense. I suppose you think it’s funny?

* Funny? Moi? Why would I think you passing out for no apparent reason is funny? *

You’re telling me that you weren’t trying to make fun of me when you told your "friends" that you were having my apartment floor and walls padded, just in case there was an accident?

* Absolutely not! I meant that - my only concern is for your safely and well being. *

Wow…gee, Robby…I didn’t know you cared.

* Well, to be honest…I don’t. Hey everyone, want to hear my imitation of Brett? Wow, this sure was a good breakfast at Waffle House! I love this place, especially the cute waitresses they have there! They’re just dreamy! They make me wanna…wanna…THUD *

Ha ha. Very funny. Ho ho. It is to laugh.

* Thank you very much, folks, I’ll be here all week. Don’t forget to tip your waitress! *

Yes, the text is bigger. I got tired of squinting.

So I get a call at work today. It’s from a computer training company, a sales call, wanting to know if we were interested in a free one day training course. She hadn’t even gotten the words “are you interested in signing up” before I had to put her on hold for a moment - a quick mental check - just to make sure of something.

My suspicions were confirmed when I picked back up a few seconds later. “Brett?”

The salesperson calling me was a girl I dated for a month or so a while back. We chatted briefly, and informed her that we weren’t looking for training at this time, but would most likely be evaluating our needs at the beginning of the year. I gave her my e-mail address (for follow up purposes, of course), and hung up, wherein I proceeded to laugh for about five minutes. Not at her, mind you - she is a very nice person who merely has different priorites than I do - just in realization of how small the world can be sometimes.

That, and I really needed a laugh today, since my poor, distraught wallet and I are still reeling from having my car’s front driver side window fixed yesterday. A small piece of advice: if you think your automatic window is close to breaking down, do not tempt fate by using it, because it will get stuck open. I still can’t believe how much a simple little thing like that costs to fix. So if anyone is still trying to figure out what to give me for my pending celebration of doom on Friday (insert maniacal robotic laughter here), a donation to the “Brett’s a poor bastard again” fund would be greatly appreciated.

Now playing: Sahara Hotnights - Jennie Bomb

If you haven’t heard, MCG and wife are having a girl, and have settled on Emily for her name. I can dig that. It’s a good name, and lets you know right off the bat that the owner of said name is, in fact, a girl. Anything but the sudden rash of androgynous names that seem to have swept across our fair nation like a plague of frogs. Taylor. Jordan. Morgan. Ugh. However, I still think I had the best name for their baby, but they didn’t think Shitbox Glisson would look good on a college diploma. I even referred them to an online list, but nobody listens to me anymore.

My birthday is next Friday. 29. One more year in my twenties. Then we’re on to failing kidneys, liver spots, and blurring vision (not induced by sweet, delicious booze). My joy is contained to the best of my ability. However, I did get a kick ass Superman birthday cake from the Madre, who was down visiting this weekend for a wedding shower (more below). And with some of the recent events going on around my life, I’m feeling my mortality a bit these days. I feel a change of routine coming on - the kind of changes that can only be brought about by intense physical workouts. Or maybe I should just take some sage advice.

Jamie and Roger (whom I have yet to come up with good nicknames for yet) had a co-ed wedding shower thingie over at Statley Cosner Manor Saturday night. Food, fun, frolic, and toilet paper wedding dresses were had by all. And I have photos. Oh yes, I have photos…which will be posted when I quit being lazy.

Finally, back by popular demand - haiku movie reviews. This time: Jackass.

Panda bears, whale sharks,
fat suits, toy cars, disco trucks.
Don’t eat yellow snow.

My depest condolences to to Andy Biggart and his family, on the passing of his father this morning. When you get a chance, Andy, I have a bottle of Jack with your name on it.

I had a bunch of things to tell you all, but somehow none of it seems important right now.

Now Playing: Tom Petty - The Last DJ

Holy smokes. I woke up this morning, did my usual morning routine (which includes unplugging Robby after his overnight recharge), grabbed the required items for driving to work (keys, wallet, tin of Altoids, shotgun, bullet proof vest, King James Bible, life preserver, ferret, rubber ducky, 8-ball of coke, garden weasel), and stepped outside…into a arctic freaking blast. What happened? Did everyone in town decide to leave their refrigerator doors open overnight or something? Whatever it was, I was not prepared for the horror that awaited me. Clearly, winter has come too early to Florida - I am accustomed to a three to five day visit from Old Man Winter, but I was not ready for this.

Mmm, whiny.

For those of you who are concerned - yes, I’m fine. No, I have not had another episode. Yes, really, I’m fine. I’ve got appointments with a cardiologist and a neurologist scheduled in the next few weeks, so just simmah down nahw. The receptionist at the cardiologist’s office, when informed of my age, had this reassuring nugget of information for me: “Wow, you’re young.” That’s funny - suddenly I feel pretty old now. Way to make me feel better, lady.

A funny thing happened to me in the Waffle House over the weekend.

That’s not to say there’s only one Waffle House in these fine United States - in fact, I believe in the city of Atlanta there’s a Waffle House for every man, woman, and child in that sprawling metropolis, and still enough left over for some people in Macon. But I’m digressing, aren’t I?

Anyway, I was sitting there, just finishing up a good-for-you Waffle House breakfast with a couple friends…when I started to feel lightheaded. I knew something was wrong, but I wasn’t sure what exactly. Then my head and body got heavy, and I started to lean forward.

When I came to, I discovered I was lying on the freshly mopped (as only a Waffle House can be) tile, with about six people surrounding me. I was helped back up to my booth, and handed an ice pack for the now growing bump on my left temple. Apparently, I was only out for a few seconds, which by my watch is a few seconds too many.

By now, I’m sure most of you have begun breaking windows, rolling over cars, and running down the street in terror over this news. Can’t say I blame you. But it’s fine, really. I saw a doctor yesterday, and my heart rate, blood pressure, and EKG are all normal. As a result, they’re calling what happened yesterday syncope. I get to visit a cardiologist, a neurologist, and have some blood work done to rule out other possible causes, but this seems to be the most likely diagnosis.

For those of you who have never had an EKG taken before, I highly recommend it - especially if you want to know how it feels to be your home entertainment center. Wires were everywhere, and during the whole process I kept wondering if the machine had a button on it that could deliver an electric shock. Ah, the joys of a wandering mind.

The doctor was interesting as well. Here’s a sample of his questions after I told him what happened:

Doc: Are you on any medications?
Me: No.
Doc: Are you on drugs?
Me: No.
Doc: So, you’re not on drugs?
Me: No.
Doc: You’re not taking any drugs?
Me: No. Are you?

Perhaps I was a bit harsh. But it felt like he was gonna ask me that question until I said yes - because all of us 28 year olds are hooked on smack, you know. Honestly, I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition.

* Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise! Surprise and fear, fear and…our two weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency…our three weapons are fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, and — *

Enough with the Python quotes, Robby! And where did you get that outfit?

* You like it? Two for one sale at Our Lady of the Perpetually Guilty. Apparently, they have a lot of extra cardinal outfits these days…maybe it’s because [EDITED FOR OFFENSIVENESS] *

Robby! That’s disgusting! I can’t believe you’d use the problems in the Catholic church to tell crude jokes.

* And since when have you known me NOT to laugh at the ridiculous things you stupid little meatsacks do? I AM trying to conquer you, you know.

And doing a mighty fine job of it, might I add. I am soooooooo scared of you.

Other news: Andy has left our fold to work full time for the gentleman who hooked him up with AC. (As an aside, this marks the last time I’ll ever link to the home page of a boy band, scouts honor.) I wish our Photoshop guru only the best in the future - as long as he keeps introducing me to all those cute girls he knows.

Finally: Michelle has purchased an address book to keep addresses and phone numbers. In a related story, it’s raining blood, and the ornaments of the heathens have fallen.

Now Playing: Bloodhound Gang - Use Your Fingers

More new stuff for the Brain! Because no one demanded it, I have added an internal search engine, ready to help you find all that valuable, pertinent information I’ve so generously tossed up here for your consumption. Just type in what you’re looking for, click Search, and go! Fun for the whole family - as long as that family is partially brain damaged. And as an extra special added bonus, I’ve also put up a helpful page in case you get lost. See? I’ve only got your best interests at heart.

I suppose I should apologise for one of those previous pictures. It is a pretty mean thing…but I just couldn’t help myself. I’m sure the Madre is tearing up my picture on the bookshelf in the as we speak.

And now, for your surfing pleasure, I bring you the following quality links.

I can’t really describe this one, just watch the epic saga of the Viking Kittens.

Remember Real Ultimate Power? Apparently, everyone else does too. Here are a few more groups that have real ultimate power as well. Or maybe not.

Apparently, Microsoft can’t get anything right.

And finally…I thought you might need a reminder.

Now playing: Beck - Sea Change

So my week has been chock full of problems with servers. First off, as you loyal readers (both of you) have noticed, the web site has been down. This time, the problem can be traced back to a recent upgrade my lovely hosting provider has done to my server, which caused the DNS updating system to go haywire.

A quick word for the non-techies out there (just one of you, I think) - DNS is the system the Internet uses to tie web addresses (addledbrain.com) to IP addresses (66.227.34.106), which is the “physical” address of a computer on the Internet (or as physical as an electronic series of 0’s and 1’s can get, anyway). If that DNS does not get updated properly, the Internet doesn’t know where to find the site, and steers you to everyone’s favorite web page.

Isn’t learning fun, boys and girls? No? Yeah, you’re probably right.

To compound my problems this week, our server at work caught a lovely case of the flu. That’s right, some jackass broke into the system and planted a lovely virus that ate up our security and compromised our e-mail. I got to spend a LOT of time getting that little problem fixed, but now the box is sitting pretty behind our firewall with a lovely new antivirus program.

Both of these events have Robby laughing at my expense. Personally, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s responsible for at least one of these problems, mostly out of spite for feeling ignored on these pages of late.

* Ignored? I could care less about whether you mention me or not here. But when you try and glorify that…that…pretender to my throne - well, I’m gonna be a little upset. *

Pretender?

* Don’t patronize me, skin boy. You know damn good and well who I’m talking about. That tinfoil excuse for a machine - Pimpbot! *

Wait a minute. You’re upset about that sig I made for MCG? You’re kidding, right?

* No, I’m not kidding! He ruined my plans for a big television comeback! I was going to conquer this planet utilizing the power of late night TV - but NOOOOOOO, Pimpbot comes along and steals my thunder! I was a lock for the part until he came along…suddenly, I didn’t have “enough soul” for the part - I wasn’t “hip” enough! I know the dilly-o! I’m plenty phat! But not “phat” enough for Conan O’ freaking Brien, apparently! Those bastards!*

Oooooooook. Somebody’s in need of an upgrade to their Lithium software, apparently.

Now playing: The Chris Thomas Show

My best to David and Dori Jones, and wishing a swift recovery for little Emma, who is in the hospital again. Stay strong, you two, I know it’s been tough.

Well, I think I’ve got everything in order, kids. The last piece of the puzzle, the dynamic menu update, should be complete, and have propagated itself across the site. So now, you can head from just about everywhere to just about everywhere without having to go near that pox upon humanity, the back button. Well, assuming you didn’t use it as soon as you got here, anyway.

I played around with Photoshop over the weekend with MCG, who was looking to create a "sig" for his posts on the Buccanneers message board. His board name is Pimpbot 5000, and he’s got a decent presence on the boards. Well, it took a couple of hours to scrounge up the appropriate information, and this is what we came up with. (For those of you who don’t get the gag, the three "gentlemen" in the picture are prominent members of the Bucs division rivals.) Not bad for a couple of guys who don’t quite know what they’re doing, if you ask me.

Today seems to have calmed down at work, so I can focus on things like making sure our new payroll system works (so we all get paid) and updating my web site from work…er, ah, I mean, on my lunch break. See, told you this new system would make me update more…