The time I thought I had Parkinson's

One of my earlier posts, shortly after I started this blog, was one where I asked myself, Do I Have Ulcers? For the time being, no, I do not have ulcers. But as some of you know, or are slowly realizing, I can sometimes be a bit of a hypochondriac. Its a struggle, but sometimes my fears seem to get the best of me.

Scene.

I started a weight-loss blog a few months ago, http://sixpackhopeful.blogspot.com, and it was going well. I kept a track of my progress and it made me feel good to see that results were taking place. Then, two weeks ago, I pulled my quad playing indoor soccer. It wasn't even a game, I was just fiddling around with my cousin. Anyhoo, since then I haven't been to the gym. Therefore, I haven't updated my fitness log, because I wouldn't want to be saddened with what I saw. And I digress. So I haven't been exercising. But I still eat like I have been. My pants are now tighter; the product of cream puffs and nachos. Many, many nachos. So, I have been drinking even more coffee than normal, which is a lot.

Cut to two days ago.

For the past two days I haven't eaten much. Just had no desire for food with all the water and coffee I have been drinking. I thought it beneficial to give the digestive tract a break. But something wasn't right. Sitting at work and looking at the computer screen, I felt my eyes perched open, as though standing at attention. A rush of dizziness tickled me for a moment, then vanished. I reached my arm to grab my glass of water, but I couldn't keep it steady. I grabbed the glass and held it up, shivering like a child in the cold night's air. I looked at the TV. Michael J Fox was on for the Parkinson's Foundation commercial.

Of course.

I have Parkinson's. Michael J Fox gave me Parkinson's.

I didn't know how to tell my family. I spent an entire evening in solitude, coming to grips with what I had just diagnosed myself as having. I poured another cup of coffee - my only true friend in this cold, cold world. More shivers. I couldn't take it. I told my mom, "Mom, I think I have Parkinson's."
mom: (Blank stare)
me: I, I - (sigh).
mom: Are you fucking retarded?
me: I can't deal with this right now

The next day I woke up too late to make coffee. I ate some fruit on the way to work. Presumably, I felt fine. It became readily apparent that I didn't have Parkinson's. I just OD'd on caffeine.

I will forever remember that dreadful day as Parkinson's Wednesday.

I'm hooked on Lost, but the Sawyer Name Generator sucks

I don't know what more I need to say. Really. Check it out for yourself at ABC's Lost, Sawyer Nickname Generator website. Being the savant that I have titled myself to be, I conducted a test. By no means was it complicated. I typed in my name and filled out the questionnaire as I saw fit. Prince Charles. Hmm. Not bad I thought to myself. But what if I type in the SAME information again; will it yield the same nickname?

So I tried.

Ladybug. Interesting, I thought. So I tried it two times more and was dubbed Mr Zippie and Milquetoast.

Finally, I decided to give Mr Sawyer a taste of his own medicine. I typed my name as PRINCE CHARLES and continued as normal. Rinse 'n Repeat. WTF? I feel dirty. I am, according to Sawyer, sloppy seconds. That's a darn shame. But at least I don't have herpes.

So, being in the perturbed state I'm in, I called Sawyer on the telephone. We had a conversation, and to be honest, he's not all that bad. Here is a rundown of how it went:

First Article

Check it out, my first newspaper article.

Gummy Bears

My days are consumed by substantial bouts of nothingness. I like to do, what some call "lost in one's thoughts," or, as I like to call it, "daydream" hourly. In the midst of my all-too-often trivial and meaningless monkey-style data processing and amateurish website development (an art in which I have no personal inclination to better myself), I randomly, and without notice, zonk out. You can find me staring at a static computer screen, blank wall or even innocent passerby with an empty gaze on my face, resemblant of a coma patient, I have been told. Today was a special day. I recounted a part of my youth; something that contributed to who I am (and more so, who I am not) today.

I spent the better part of the day thinking about Gummy Bears. I loved the Gummy Bears cartoon. Yeah, I said it. How tight would it be to hang out all day with hot gummy girls, slide down rainbows and live in a paradise? Very tight. Plus, what about that Gummiberry Juice? That stuff looked delicious. Simply delicious. I have always wondered, though, exactly what it would taste like. Would it be fruity? I imagine it to be very fruity and also very sweet. I imagine it to be like Kool-Aid, but like a thousand times better. Thoughts like these clouded my mind for hours. Then I came up with a theory.

I speculate that the Gummy Bears cartoon was aimed, on a base level, at children. But at a closer inspection, I believe a huge undertone was dedicated to stoners. Pot-smoking young'ns. Think about it. What's the best thing to do when you're stoned? Eat. At least that's what I've been told... And what's a better munchie than a soft, sweet, delectable little fruity morsel? Nothing! And watching the Gummy Bears cartoon would be like watching your favorite little sweet treats become more colorful and dance around singing kick-ass songs. "Gummy bears, bouncing here and there and everywhere..." Lyrics like that are meant to be appreciated by those with low attention span, ie. children or reefer-noggins. I feel like I did way too much research on this, but when I stumbled upon this Wikipedia entry, I wasn't so ashamed with myself.

What are some of your favorite childhood cartoons?

Another Red Robin Experience

So, for those of you who read my My Encounter With Defeat post, here's a little bonus side story.

As previously written, my server was a bombastic juvenile female who reeked of unrequited excitement and yelped her nearly-unintelligible sentences in bouts of unwarranted enthusiasm. Her name was, and probably still is, Kayla.

What I didn't before mention, was that I was with my family, who in their own right, could make Saint Peter himself spew a rambling of profanities with our large gatherings and loud conversations. My family, though, has also mastered the craft of people-watching. Thus, I have been ripened with a language of observation that cannot be taught beyond the experiences of family outings. So in the midst of panic attacks and shenanigans on the wall and Mexican elephants sitting on my chest, I found a solitude, if only for a number of minutes.

At the local Red Robin, there is a server who's name is Eduardo. Eduardo has a crush on my aunt. Aunt Heather's daughter, my cousin, works at Red Robin, so she frequents it a good amount. Anyhoodle, when we are all out as a family (some 15 members or so) Eduardo also seems to be out. He's that creepy guy from which you can never escape. Eduardo tries to be smooth. He is tall, maybe 6'2", looks to be of Mexican descent, and has shiny black hair that is slicked back. Eduardo looks like a giant penis.

So sitting there, I see Eduardo. And he sees me. We give each other that glare that they used to do in western movies when they are about to draw, with the little doo-DO-doooo music in the background, maybe some tumbleweed rolling off into the distance. Then he spots Aunt Heather. He throws the plates down on the table in front of him like a dealer tossing the next losing hand. He approaches:

-Penis: (to my aunt) Heather, you look maaaaagnificent this evening.
-AH: Oh, (pulling her arm away) thank you.
-Penis: (now to our table) Hello everybody! I, am Eduarrrdo (note the tongue roll). And this, this is a lovely lady (completely ignoring the other women at the table).
-Me: Eduardo, is that toilet paper on your shoe?
Penis: (gasps and looks down) Ah, ha. Mr. Joshua. You have stung me again with your wit.
-Me: Just like I'm gonna sting your wife over and over and over again. (Note: I didn't really say that last line because, well, that would just be mean. I don't know his wife. Maybe she's hot, maybe she's not. If she is hot, then maybe I will say it because i might really want to sting her over and over and over again. Here's to enjoying the unknown.)

And that, friends, concludes my conversation with Eduardo, the walking penis.

Top 10 Movie Quotes Of All Time

So I know there are waaaay too many to list, but I think this is a good list. Please add what you feel should be included.

1. Shut The Fuck Up, Donnie.
-The Big Lebowski

2. Big Gulps, huh? Welp, see ya later!
-Dumb and Dumber

3. Nice fish. Big eyes, but nice fuckin' fish.
-Bad Boys 2

4. Mmm-mmmm. That is a tasty burger. Vincent, ever have a Big Kahuna Burger?
-Pulp Ficiton

5. Do you know what "nemesis" means? A righteous infliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent. Personified in this case by an 'orrible cunt... me.
-Snatch

6. Utah! Get me two!
-Point Break

7. You've gotta wait till the seed grows into a plant. Then you've gotta fuck the plant.
-40 Year Old Virgin

8. You shut your mouth when you're talking to me
-Wedding Crashers

9. You cotton-headed ninnymuggins.
-Elf

10. Any more lip out of you and I'll haul off and let you have it. If you know what's good for you, you won't monkey around with Fred C. Dobbs.
Treasure of the Sierra Madre

What are some of YOUR favorite quotes?

I'm Baaaaack!

Ok, so the computer is running again. Get your party hats on.

My Computer No Workey

So on or about February 9, my computer died. Knowing the [comparatively] decent amount about computers that I do, I came to the conclusion that a sector of my hard drive was bad. The gentleman on the Geek Squad at the local Best Buy agreed. My warranty covered the replacement of the hard drive, but not the data transfer. So I procured a $50 device to transfer the data myself and not give Best Buy $195 to do the same exact thing. The next day I brought it back and it was shipped to a repair facility in Oklahoma.

The repairs were speedier than expected (just under two weeks). But I was sad when told I needed the Windows installation disc, which, after two years and four house moves later, had predictably been misplaced. The reorder from Gateway was 20 unexpected dollars. Fine. I can handle $20. That arrived at my house yesterday. But, when I tried to reinstall windows and my computer did the SAME EXACT thing it did when I took it to be repaired. Did they really replace the hard drive? I don't know. But it doesn't work. So, as a result, my entries have been sparse.

So I apologize for not posting regularly or getting back to your comments in a timely manner. I do appreciate it and hopefully will be back in business soon! Anyway, if you have something to say hit me up at joshua.corbelli@gmail.com (i can check email at work easier than the blog)