I haven't done a good Cheddar X in awhile, so here I go:
1. What do you have planned for the future?
World domination, while trampling on the little guys to establish myself as the undisputed Emperor Of The World. I shall crush my enemies with the ruthlessness of a million sadists! I shall rule with an iron fist, and all will tremble before me!
Either that, or I'll buy a Slim Jim after work.
Whichever.
2. Who is the single most important person in your life and why?
Me. Oh, you mean besides that? I could say Melissa, but I don't think that's the case quite yet. Right now, I'd probably have to say it's a tie between my parents, although Melissa could probably usurp them sometime in the relatively near future.
3. Describe yourself in five words.
Smoking Hot Specimen of Male Hunkiness (The "of" doesn't count."
4. You can spend one night alone with any one person you wish--who is it?
Salma Hayek.
5. Name your five favorite movies.
The Shawshank Redemption
The Right Stuff
The Last Emperor
Schindler's List
Debbie Does Dallas
6. Name your five favorite musical artists.
Skip. Next.
7. Name your five favorite movies when you were in high school.
Debbie Does Dallas
Swedish Erotica Volume 1
Swedish Erotica Volume 2
Swedish Erotica Volume 3
Swedish Erotica Volume 4
8. Five favorite musicians when you were in high school.
I can't remember, but I'm sure they all sucked.
Today I suffered a migraine, and a potent migraine it was. It was if Mike Tyson greeted me at my doorstep, recited some Shakespeare, and then gave me a solid uppercut. That would undoubtedly leave my head reeling because, really, who would have guessed Mike Tyson reads Shakespeare?
I've suffered migraines on and off since high school, with my first recollected headache occurring while sitting in my computer class in front of a Mac. At that time, I didn't know what a migraine was, so it was kind of scary to suddenly see flickering lights in my peripheral vision. What was going on? Was I going blind? Was I about to be abducted by aliens? Would I be anal probed?!!
Gradually, the flickering peripheral vision encroached further along my line of sight, until I could only really see, clearly, a six inch circle in front of me. I explained my symptoms to the school nurse, who informed me I was expeiencing a migraine, and that I wouldn't be anal probed. She told me to go home and sleep off the sparkling vision. But, she warned, I'd have a pretty bad headache after the hazy vision passed.
I stepped outside, into a sunny spring day, and I realized that migraines don't react well to sunlight. It was as though God had put a giant magnifying glass between the earth and the sun, and focused the beam on my retinas. I felt like a vampire as I loped my way home, shielding my eyes from the cruel daytime orb, wishing for all the world that I had a dark cape.
Once home, I curled up on the couch and settled in for nap. In my mind, it seemed like a fair trade-off that, in exchange for some sparkling vision, I got half the day off from school and I got to take a nap. Pretty good deal.
A couple hours later, I awoke. And I awoke to the most cruel, piercing headache I'd ever experienced. It was is if every childhood bump, bruise, scrape, cut and illness had all gotten together for a reunion party right between my eyes, behind the bridge of my nose.
Oh, it was such exquisite pain! And I couldn't get away from it. I couldn't walk into the kitchen and leave the headache behind in the living room. I couldn't go back to sleep because, man, I had this really bad headache. It was one of those headaches that is so terribly bad, the only thing you can think of is how bad the headache is, which of course just makes it worse.
I attacked the medicine cabinet like a junkie needing a fix. I located the aspirin and tried that. Nothing. I located the Tylenol and tried that. Nothing. Surely there was a loaded pistol, or at least a sledgehammer somewhere in the cabinet! Anything to put an end to that unreal headache!
Nowadays, when I feel a migraine coming on, I hit the medicine cabinet right away, before I even settle in for a pre-emptive nap. I find that it helps alleviate some of the ensuing headaching nightmare, which is where I'm at right now.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I can't write any more. I have a headache, you see.
It's raining
It's pouring
The old man is snoring
He went to bed
And bumped his head
And he couldn't get up in the morning
It's been raining like all holy hell over the past couple of weeks, even after some doom and gloomers back in April were predicting drought. I don't mind rain, I guess, so long as it doesn't intrude on my weekends, which of course it has. Although, Melissa and I did manage to do a couple of rollerblading treks over the weekend that exceeded the 30 mile mark, which means my legs are jelly.
During one of our sojourns, we did get rained on a tad, and that stupid little childhood rhyme entered my head, and I started chanting it in a goofy little voice. And, I never really realized what a nonsensical bit of weirdness it actually is. Does anyone know the genesis of that rhyme? Perhaps I should do a Google on it. . .
Huh. Interesting. I just found out that it's followed by:
Rain, rain, go away;
Come again another day;
Little Johnny wants to play.
Little Johnny's an impatient little bastard, I think. Here you have an old man who bumped his head, and apparently he can't even get out of bed due to a massive brain hemorrhage of some sort, and yet all Little Johnny can think of is getting outside to play. "Sorry, gramps, but I want to get out there and play. Screw your old wrinkled ass."
Anyway. . .
Well, now this is interesting. This site says the old man actually has a cold in his head, rather than having bumped it, which is less violent and worrisome, I suppose:
It's raining, it's pouring,
The Old Man is snoring
He went to bed with a cold in his head,
And he didn't get up until morning.
Rain, rain, go away,
Little Girl wants to play.
And, be sure to notice, it's now Little Girl wants to play, rather than Little Johnny. I'm not sure what kind of feminist manifesto may be going on there, but I'd like to see Little Johnny and Little Girl duke it out.
Here, of course, we're led to believe that the old man has a serious drinking problem, and apparently the sun shines while it's raining. Also be sure to notice that his snoring inexplicably makes the buttons on his Chinese shirt spin.
Finally, I guess it was inevitable that I'd eventually come across a blog that mentioned the nursery rhyme. That blog also has pictures of a bra, which I think is kind of cool.
Unfortunately, I still don't know the genesis of that damned rhyme, or what it really even means.
Why, yes, I am slacking at work during a teleconference meeting. Why do you ask?
