New Game - "Four Words"   The rule is simple: Put together four words that really don't belong together.   (This based on the "Bob Dole: Sex Machine" idea.)   Here goes...   1. Quadriplegic Ultimate Fight Championships.   2. Interracial midget clown porn.   3. NAMBLA Child Protection Services.   4. Dane Cook Comedy Show.   5. Manson Day Care Center.   And so on...   Today is Sunday   I have a three day weekend this week and will continue to do so for the next several weeks.   I'm sure you are saying to yourself, "Frank, last I checked, I really couldn't give a flying lizard fuck about your days off. Why in God's name are you wasting precious seconds of my life with this retarded trivia?" To this query I reply as concisely as possible... "Fuck you. And I hope you fall into a pit filled with rotten guacamole, fried eggplants, and starving pirhanas..."   Anyway, I have a couple of days to work on the page. Yay. I just don't know what to write about.   Wednesday: Snow Driving   I just drove through a bunch of snow to get to work. Yay. Adrienne's car has antilock brakes. Being an old-schooler, I'm used pumping the brakes rather than relying on these newfangled antilock brake thingies. This antilock brake thing is new territory for me.   In doing my own research, I have found that the difference between pumping the brakes and antilock brakes is relatively insignificant. With pumping the brakes, you get to pump the brakes repeatedly just before skidding into oncoming traffic and dying a horrible death. With antilock brakes, your whole car vibrates a lot all by itself just before your violent demise. The difference between the two is that one can start up the vibrating antilock brakes long before the accident and possibly reach death and orgasm at the same time.   A Nightmare, sort of...   Dreaming about work is weird, especially if one works in organ and tissue donation. Last night I dreamed about being one of a five-member team of super-heroes that had supernatural organ transplant abilities. I was Lung-Man. Lung Man was partnered up with others of his ilk - Heart Man, Kidney Woman, Liver Boy, and Pancreas Guy.   Superman had his obsession with Lois Lane, Spiderman had a thing for Kirstin Dunst, and Lung Man was preoccupied with his disdain with directed organ donation. (Apparently, Lung Man didn't believe in a patient saying that he or she could determine that his or her organs could go to an ailing relative.)   I dunno...   The problem with being an organ transplant superhero is the idea that someone calls out to Lung Man for a transplant and Lung Man just, what, shows up with a pair of lungs? How does he intend to do the transplant? Where are the immunosupressant meds going to come from? And, most important, where the hell did he get the lungs in the first place?   It was just weird...   Revenge and the Revelation...   I was recently ruminating over various things and ran across an odd memory.   A long time ago, just like almost every other straight guy on the planet, I got my ass kicked by some woman. Wah, wah, wah... While that part of the story is fairly normal, my reaction to it was not.   In taking revenge on every other woman on the planet, I, for the next two years, decided to deny every woman on the planet the joy of being with ME. Yup, you got it, no sex from me for ANY OF THEM!!!   Yeah, I guess I showed THEM! I'm sure that all of the women in my life at that time were so upset that they immediately, uh, spent an entire FOUR SECONDS finding someone ELSE to be with. What the hell was I thinking?   Sorry, just a random thought.   Anyway, that's it for now. I'll write more when I get a chance...   Copyright 2009 by Frank Emsley

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