Tell a short story about some dull event that occurred in your daily life.

I totally fell down the stairs. I am slightly bruised.

In Response to tynic (#34752):

That's less of a story and more of a one-panel comic.

Can you expound on how and where you fell down the stairs, and who observed such, and etc?

In Response to zamphir (#34753):

I could, but I'd rather leave it to the readers' no-doubt prurient imaginations.

As i awoke this morning, nothing chirped, nothing whirred, and the sun most definitely did not crest over anything. it was already light out, a harsh, humidity-laden light that drove me from my bed to a slightly dirty bathroom in the morn of this day.

I reapproached my room with the disdain of a millionaire approaching a fetid pile of tattered dollar bills that had been covered with excrement. The bed was there. it had been mussed. i was to be the unmusser that day.

grasping a corner of the fitted sheet, my sharp eye fell upon the fact that in my restless sleep, i had pulled the sheets entirely fromthe corners of the bed. it was to be a daunting task today.

I stretched the fitted sheet with its pattern of faux chinese design over the mattress and made a note that i needed to purchase a mattress cover later. The fitted sheet was eventually placed upon the bed and i next moved to the other sheet and blanket.

By this time, i was frustrated and leary of the value of bed-making and its wear on my fragile form. I then made the decision to tear away from centuries of culture and western tradition. I threw my sheets to the wind (as created by my AC unit) and left them lay in a pile of unmade terror upon the bed to which i must return tonight. a limp pile of cloth smelling like mountain air that marks my laziness and compromised loyalty to quality and self-pride.

Fin.

My apartment's air conditioning broke two days before it decided to stop being chilly, and start being really hot. Today it was cool in the morning, then we closed the windows and drew the blinds and curtains to keep the coolness in. Unfortunately by noon, it was rather hot inside, as nothing can stop the juggernaut rays of sunshine.

I went outside to burn papers and generated a very hot fire thans to special and precise arrangement to maximise air currents. Inside felt much cooler after that.

There are 10, not 8 tortillas in this bag.

I requested that the friendly lady who answered the telephone at the Rite-Aid pharmacy please order refills on five of my ten current prescriptions. She asked which five, and i gave her the code numbers for the Tenofovir, Lamivudine, Nevirapine, Dronabinol, and Esomeprazole. I still had enough Mupirocin, Lomotil, and Clotrimazole to last for a while. The Pentamidine is not dispensed by Rite-Aid, but rather it must be administered to me tomorrow at my monthly visit to the Respiratory Therapist at the hospital. He'll rehydrate the lyophilized powder, then we'll use a nebulizer for about half an hour to aerosolize the drug into the recesses of my lungs.

My jar of Triamcinolone gel has supposedly "expired", but it actually seems to work just as well now as it did when it was first opened, so i'm not going to have that refilled for at least a few more months. It's not like the antifungals or antibiotics which actually lose potency when past their expiry date.

The only tiny snag is related to my lack of periodicity. Somehow over the past few days i've slipped into a habit of being in bed all day and being awake all night, but tomorrow's appointment at the hospital is scheduled for mid-afternoon, when i would probably prefer to be fast asleep. If i manage to take a short nap at some point tomorrow morning then i'll only be slightly groggy when it comes time to head over to the happy-mist-suck-suck machines. But if i end up staying awake all the way until my appointment (quite likely) i'll be extremely exhausted by the time i get back home in the late afternoon. Maybe then i'd sleep fourteen or sixteen hours instead of my usual eleven, and my (non)schedule could get turned around, so i'd be back to daytime-active and nighttime-unconscious by Wednesday, like most people.

In Response to AsphaltBuffet (#34756):

That was poetic.

In Response to Teledildonix (#34767):

i've slipped into a habit of being in bed all day and being awake all night

Sounds periodic to me.

In Response to deerboy (#34791):

It's rather variable and mostly unplanned. I've changed factors such as caffeine and sugar consumption, occasional exercise, and THC intake-- but the messed-up sleep patterns seem to occur regardless. I'm tempted to blame the Nevirapine and Lamivudine, as they're known to be possible aggravators, but i'm stuck taking them twice daily.

It's not a big deal. I thought it would sound boring, as Zamphir suggested.

I was stubbly when I woke up, so I shaved this morning. I was going to use shaving cream, but my beard was short enough that I didn't need to. And I seem to have escaped without any nicks!

In the last five days, every time I have visited Goats:The Forums, there has been less than 5 new messages.

I had a really really nice steak dinner tonight.

It was a decent steak - porbably a sirloin, with frites and bearnaise. It was perfectly cooked (I ordered it medium, and it was warm and pink in the middle, and slightly crispy on the outside with a good grill mark), and the frites were excellent. I also ordered a small side of spinach with butter.

Sooooo tasty.

I also ordered "a glass of Cabernet". And ended up having two.

The restaurant was a French bistro - so I wasn't expecting the wine to be inexpensive (especially given the price of the steak). But my two glasses of cabernet were the same cost as my steak.

I guess next time I'll ask to see the wine list.

I made out my shopping list for the week. Three items, bread, lunchmeat, apples. I'm planning on finishing up some leftovers and rummaging around in the freezer to see what I can create. I know I have chicken breasts so I'm thinking cord en blue later this week.

In Response to Rich (#34805):

cord en blue

String cheese?

I mean, not to start an incident.

Yesterday I was sitting in the parking lot of our local supermarket, waiting for my wife to emerge with eggs and other necessities. A woman carrying a single cigarette, no pack, roamed the parking lot, apparently accosting every person she could to ask for a match or lighter. What was strange was that she was constantly looking under cars, as if she expected to find a matchbook, a lighter, or perhaps just enlightenment under someone's tranny. Finally she gave up and walked away. Then my wife came back with the eggs, and we drove home.

In Response to Teledildonix (#34792):

It's ironic, don't you think?

In Response to deerboy (#34810):

Like so many things, yes it's ironic. But i really shouldn't put any tone of complaint into my comments, because really i'm feeling very fortunate overall, and i generally have much better results with this particular combination of HAART drugs than any of my previous regimens. I hope i didn't sound like i was moping... i was just blabbing about some small day-to-day trivialities. I suppose there's not much point talking about myself and my attitudes so frequently, as i've rarely anything interesting to mention. It will only be notably ironic if the 'life-saving' therapies in fact turn out to be the primary instigators of my demise.

I wouldn't be surprised if i get killed by ignominious germs found at the hospital (or pharmacy, outpatient labs, etc). But that would definitely rate high on the Alanis Scale.

In Response to mkinyon (#34809):

Isn't it illegal to pester trannies like that? I mean, they're people too.

In Response to gtyrrell (#34813):

Remember which option [goats.com] I checked in the I Feel Old [goats.com] poll? My first association for tranny [wikipedia.org] is the automotive [georgetrosley.com] one.

A transmission repair shop in South Bend still runs TV ads that say: "If your tranny is dead, just call Fred". I'm sure your prurient imaginations [goats.com] can fill in appropriate images.

In any case, to consider transistor radios to be people is very forward thinking of you, Gary.

In Response to mkinyon (#34815):

A transmission repair shop in South Bend still runs TV ads that say

What about that guy who sells RVs out by the Ohio border? Tom something-unfortunate, right?

In Response to zamphir (#34816):

What about that guy who sells RVs out by the Ohio border? Tom something-unfortunate, right?

Yes, very unfortunate [campindiana.com].

Yesterday there was a family of crows making a ruckus in my back yard, so loud I had to look at what was going on. There were the two parents fussing around this chick that was on the ground and who was yelling all it had lungs for. The chick had probably fallen from the nest, but it was big enough to fly out of there and it didn't look hurt, more scared than anything.

Later a chipmunk passed by the same spot. You stay outside for a while and you notice it's a jungle out there. A really tame one but all the same.

On the hottest night of the year, we had a fire in the back yard so the kids could roast marshmallows and make s'mores. I decided to show the inexperienced whipper snappers that it is possible to roast a marshmallow without it catching fire. With my marshmallow positioned over the red-hot coals, it began to swell until it was four times it original size. Soon it was nicely browned on the outside and melted all the through the inside. Just as I pulled the most perfectly roasted marshmallow, it fell with a splat onto the pant leg of my favorite pair of jeans.

In Response to IceCreamAddict (#34859):

ha ha ha ha ha.... ha ha ha ha ha... i'm suprised you didn't catch yourself on fire at some point. shovels are not fire-pokers! ;)