I’ve been spending more time than usual in bed. I’ve been saving up sporks for a busy week. Since, I only have cable in the living room now, and since there’s nothing new on, I’ve been watching vintage TV, Emergency on Netflix.

I got my tumbleweed fix. One rescue had an old man and woman in the desert called because the house was surrounded by tumbleweeds. They scared the old lady.


Tumbleweeds ain’t scary. Now horny toads I could see getting scared of. Hundreds of them staring at you with their devil’s horns could get frightening.

A couple of episodes later I got a real nostalgia flashback, 1970s IT. Anonymous caller tells hospital that she took pills and turned gas on. They only are able to trace call to a rough area. And they find she’d been at hospital recently.

The billing computer can only search by name or account #, the head computer geek declares. ‘We’ll have to go through the punch cards!’ Ah, yes, 1970s technology. They start feeding cards through an IBM card sorting machine. It works but you can only sort a column at a time. sometimes it was faster to flip through the cards. A big goof is when the Doc asks for patients between 8/24 & 9/4 and the machine does it in one pass.

I don’t miss those freakin IBM cards. I was in heaven when I went to work and had a video terminal with  a backspace key. With the cards, fat finger and you start the card over.


<a href=”http://youtu.be/j7xUqTHGkw8″>Tumbling Tumbleweeds</a>

One armed man

In a fucking nasty mood tonight. I tried to get a roll of paper towels out of a cabinet and got an avalanche of crap that some helpful[sic] arsehole piled on top of the rolls.

You have to think of me as the one armed man. I have two and they work somewhat well. But effectively I only have one because the other is always holding on to something to keep me from falling.

I don’t have a free hand to lift crap off of what I need to get. If I need to use both hands I have to lean against a wall or something. Or in the case of lifting the trash bag out of the can, use my head against the refrigerator for support.

I’ve told people to think of me as a one armed man and not do those things. But, they keep insisting on piling shit on top of  other shit.

Well, anything in my kitchen on top of what I need to get to will be flung as far as my weak muscles can throw them. Usually in the direction of the dining room. And I’m not fucking picking that shit up.