Random Notes from a Crank

Yesterday I went to a doctor for the first in about six or seven years since I've had this weird rash in certain spots on my arms and legs. My doctor told me that her "hunch" is that I have some sort of fungal infection. How I got it, who knows, but she gave me some prescriptions to take care of it. I hope her hunch is right. I guess maybe I've been consorting with mushrooms of ill repute. Don't tell Mrs. Nasty.

One of the drugs she gave is a steroid. She mentioned that for some people it's makes them irritable and more prone to anger. In other words, don't piss me off. I could get into a rage like Rowdy Roddy Piper during his prime.

When the nurse took my blood pressure at the doctor's office, she was a little concerned about the bottom number of my blood pressure. It was a little high. Both her and the doctor chalked it up to me being stressed about visiting the office. That could be, but I told the nurse I think it's more about the conference call I was on Tuesday afternoon. The nurse smiled and doubted a conference call would cause that much stress or last that long. Lady, you don't know what the hell you're talking about. You have no idea.

We went to a party on Independence Day where a bunch of us got into a discussion about a pet care product called the Furminator. It's expensive, but apparently it's really good at drastically reducing shedding. And my dog Darby is shedding like crazy. All over the damn place. One of our friends made a joke about how the product sounds sort of like a sex toy, which we laughed about. I can see the ads now: "Billy Bob, honey, tonight let's make it a Furminator night." Bow-chicka-wow-wow [bad imitation of porno music].

Yesterday the Nasty family ate sweet corn for the first time this year. It wasn't bad for the first batch of the season. Hannah had a hard time eating because one of her teeth up top is gone and another front tooth is unsteady. That little girl loves corn on the cob, so it's an unfortunate situation. We had to shave off the kernels for her while Quinn ravaged his ear of corn.

If Adam Dunn doesn't get it together, he's going to help destroy my chances of winning the fantasy baseball league I'm in. Before the draft this spring, I did internal research on our league about when Dunn usually went off the board. After looking at drafts from the past four years--years he's consistently hit close to 40 homeruns and 100 rbi--I selected him as the 49th player off the board in the 4th round, a justifiable draft pick considering his track record and that he moved to a hitter's park on the south side of Chicago. And how do I get repaid? Here is that schmuck's line so far this season: 23 runs, 8 home runs, 32 rbi, and a .302 OBP. I can't trade Big Ass (I prefer not to call him by his traditional nickname of "Big Donkey") for anyone valuable, and if I dump him from my team, I'm sure he'll start putting up big numbers.

At the informational fair I frequent this summer, Greek Life has its own table, and they have a iPod player going with a regular cycle of tunes. Two of the songs they're playing are AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long" and the chorus of The Weather Girls' "It's Raining Men." For an audience that includes parents, I don't think they want to promote that image. But maybe that's just me. If they really want to go that route though, they need to go all the way and play Jimmy Buffett's "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw?"

I liberated one of my kids' CapriSun juice pouches to be my drink for lunch today. It was Berrytastic.