Finally went to see Doc Cottle Tuesday to get this little wracking cough I have looked at it. Of course it couldn’t just be a simple, leftover remnant of my cold — no, it had to be fucking bronchitis. “Post-viral bronchitis” to be specific. The good doctor prescribed steroids to get rid of it, and lo hasn’t that made the last few days fun. I took my last dose this morning, thank the gods. Aside from making me feel vaguely nauseous most of the time, in that acid reflux sort of way, they’ve also been ensuring that I only get about four hours of sleep a night. And I think the ‘roids are turning me into a grumpypants, too. I’ve been a lot shorter with people lately than I usually am, and just generally irritable and in a crappy mood. Or that could just be because I haven’t been feeling fell for the last three weeks. Meh.

Last night was fun: we had another Battlestar Galactica Night at Jason’s house. The episode was riveting, as usual, the pizza was good, the Smirnoff Razamataz was tasty, and the company was entertaining. Nick brought Diana and his “dude” Chris along. Diana is fun to talk with, and Chris is just hilarious. They dressed like pirates; I think because it had something to do with something called “Halloween.” I most assuredly had more fun at our “Battlestar-Galactica-Ween” than I would have had at a certain someone’s “Halo-ween” gala that was running concurrently yesterday, about ten houses down the road. For my money, a night of Battlestar Galactica and pizza trumps getting pissed off at a video game that everyone else playing is godslike at. I’m sure those frakkers had fun, though.

In about an hour or so I’m going to Columbus to see my sister. Not so much because I want to enjoy my sister’s company, but more that I really want to see Jon Stewart get his funny on, in person. The Daily Show host is doing some sort of live thing for the OSU students. I honestly don’t know too many more details about the event, other than that it will probably by goddamn funny.

JAB

I really hate cold weather. I hate the fact that it’s almost never sunny; I hate the fact that I was not built for cold weather. I’m always cold, or at the very least, chilled. My hands go numb at the drop of the hat, so my fingers look like they belong on a corpse. And I hate how cold weather is so fucking depressing — it’s never sunny, and even when it is — hey, still unpleasant out. The only upside to wintry weather is that it usually signals the end of my writing hibernation. October to April is the most productive time of the year for me, and has been for the last three years. This year, it’s been particularly so. Since January, I’ve written over fifty thousand words — and the year’s not yet over. Granted, there’s nothing to show for it, publishing wise, but I feel like I’m this close. Time will tell.

I’m finally feeling better, though I’ve still got a nagging cough that all the medicine in the world won’t seem to cure. If I still have it by the end of the week, I’m going to ask my boss Mike if I can duck out a little early one day and see the doctor. He’ll probably say yes, since he’s real cool guy, but I’m reluctant to ask. I’m still “the new guy” at work, and I don’t want to make a bad impression.

Speaking of work, I really dig my new job. Eventually I’ll be the office manager, but right now I’m just the new meat. After working in a photo lab for six years, and being the shit at my job for the last two, it’s rough being the slow, unknowledgeable one again. I hate having to ask questions all the time; it makes like an idiot. My coworkers are cool, though, and the environment is pretty relaxed. What’s weird is I’m the only guy there that doesn’t watch racing or football, doesn’t like to hunt, and isn’t a Republican*. They chat about the latest episode of Survivor and I scoff; I mention I love Battlestar Galactica and I get blank stares.

“Isn’t that a show that was on in the eighties?” my boss asks.

“Yes,” I sigh. I try to explain that there’s a re-imagining of the show currently airing, and that’s what I watch, and the response I get is a round of “ohs” followed by more blank stares.

Despite the fact that they’re not geeks, I still like ‘em. My job kicks ass.

JAB

* To their credit, all of them now think Bush is a worthless idiot who’s fucked up and is continuing to fuck up the country. And I, with no small amount of smugness, remind them that I didn’t vote for Bush in the first place. Yeah, I’m well-loved.

I’m still alive, just sick. Been that way for over a week now, hence the lack of updates. Posting will resume its haphazard schedule soon.

JAB

I do believe that the fix on [adult swim] is one of the finer pleasures of the Internet — aside from pr0n, of course. Because of adult swim fix, I can watch The Venture Bros., Metalocalpyse, and Robot Chicken online, commercial free, without having to remember to watch/record them when they air on the television. All three shows are routinely brilliant, though Venture Bros. is still my favorite. And when Aqua Teen Hunger Force starts running new episodes at the end of the month, I can watch those too. Being able to watch shows on teh Interweebs is, I think, the next best thing to having TiVo. I just wish other stations would do the same with their shows.

Speaking of other shows, I downloaded and then watched the newest episode of South Park, the one where “the boys dedicate their lives to defeating a mad gamer and saving the World of Warcraft.” (If you like, you can watch the first half of the episode on YouTube here and the second half here.) Once again South Parks proves to be one of the better-written and funnier shows on television, putting plot and a cynical “message” over irrelevant site gags and increasingly unfunny “shock” humor. It beats the hell out of Family Guy (season 4 and on, at least), that’s for fucking sure.

JAB

What an annoying, aggravating day. Nothing has gone right, and I feel like the hours have been mostly wasted. I’ve been in a shitty mood the last few days for various reasons — none of which I feel like sharing — but I’ve finally calmed down. A trip to Tim Horton’s and some solid writing usually have that effect on me. I’m about 4,000 words into a new story, one that I feel really good about. Two other stories are currently submitted to various publications. Maybe I’ll get lucky.

I’m having shrimp for dinner, so that will also help improve my mood. If I had to label one food as ambrosia, it might be those tasty little crustaceans.

FearFest is tonight at King’s Island, which will either be fun or just piss me off again. Time will tell. Ordering the tickets was almost enough to make me put my fist through the monitor. So yeah, a big “fuck you” to Paramount and whatever “Canada’s Wonderland” is.

In other news, Battlestar Galactica is the greatest show ever. Watching the season premier at Jason’s house last night was great fun. Nick was there, and David would have been there, but he had better things to do, like a woman. We’re considering having these little soirees somewhat regularly. But if we do, they need a name. My vote is for “Frak Night.” It’s catchy, activity-oriented, and fun to say.

Y’know, I’m ready to just say “fuck it all” and become a hermit. Spending my days on a little boat somewhere in the Caribbean, with the sun on my face and a laptop in front of me, sounds better and better every day.

JAB

Celebrated the third birthday of JOSH BALES dot NET yesterday with Nate and his dad at the Seoul House, this Korean dive near Fairborn. Nate’s dad brought little party hats for us to wear, while we drank sake and sang karaoke, which mostly consisted of Korean pop hits. It was pretty sweet.

Okay, I’m fibbing slightly.

We didn’t actually drink sake, or sing karaoke versions of Korean pop songs . . . or do karaoke at all, really. And we weren’t there to celebrate JBdN’s birthday, though that did fall on yesterday. Honestly, I’m not sure if there was even an occasion behind us going to the Seoul House, other than to be badasses and pick up chicks. Maybe it was for Nate’s birthday. I dunno. I’m sure if he does know, Mister Valentine will undoubtedly chime in with his usual mixture of wit and cockery.

So . . . I guess I was really just lying during the entire first paragraph, except for the parts about going to the Seoul House and it being pretty sweet. Though the food was indeed delicious: a spicy beef melange called boolgogi served with the most flavorful white rice. And the restaurant/bar really was a dive. It was nice, and I liked it quite a bit, but it was a little rundown. Places like that appeal to me, though — especially when said places are bars. They’re more . . . interesting. Why I enjoyed New Orleans so much, I suppose.

I can’t believe I’ve been doing this shit — this particular shit I’m referring to being blogging, of course — for over four years now. Every few months I always tell myself, “Self, I think I’m going to quite blogging real soon. Perhaps I’ll take up golf, or join the Model T Ford Club International (MTFCI) and race very, very slowly on the weekends.” But I never do (quit blogging, that is — I will race Model Ts one day, by God), and probably never will. I’m so used to to doing it that not doing it would just be . . . bizarre. Plus, I’m really lazy.

And that’s the kind of attitude that kept me at Wal-Mart for five years. At least I’m consistent.

JAB

What the hell happened to September? Or August and July for that matter?

It seems like just the other day that it was June and I was sitting on my back porch, reading, writing and sunning myself like a sexual virile cat. This must be how it is to get older: the seasons passing progressively faster and faster, until months stream by like hours, and then you’re dead. At least I got a new job out of September.

Yesterday I went downtown with friends Rainbow Brite, Sergeant Slaughter, and Rom to peruse what the kids now call “the Oktoberfest.” It was a reasonably good time, if a little lacking in things to do. I drank beer, stared at pretty girls with my best Biff Tannen leer, and made fun of people. Actually, now that I think about it, that’s all it pretty much takes for me to have a good time. What can I say — I’m easy to please.

Later, we went back to Rainbow Brite’s house and watched MST3K: The Movie on hi-def VHS. I hadn’t seen the movie in years, and I’m fairly certain no one else had seen it before, but I’d forgotten how goddamn funny it is. The movie-within-the-movie is This Island Earth, a fairly good 50s sci-fi b-movie in and of itself. My favorite part, I think, is still during the credits, when one of the ‘bots keeps going on about “Amazing Rando.” Classic, classic stuff.

JAB