It all keeps coming back to the sinuses.  While emerging from the food coma Thursday I felt a bit sinusy and did meds to get me through a late client meeting.  Then after walking in the coastal night air and sitting in a Starbucks for an hour going over documents I felt worse so I did more sinus meds.  While my sinuses felt great, my eyeballs and throat dried out, and some of the sinus meds got lost and thumped on the nuked prostate, as cold and sinus meds tend to do.  That wiped out my Friday.  So I was off meds for a while and force-feeding healthy foods to my sinuses.  Now I’m trying that moderation nonsense, but after napping most of the afternoon I suspect I won’t sleep tonight, which will just make me cranky. 

 I’ve got to get them  (and the rest of me) healthy enough to work Monday, survive the Penguin Plunge Tuesday*, and head out on a little surf trip the rest of the week.  Of course a couple days bobbing up and down in the ocean will probably just give me a head cold and get my sinuses all uppity again, but you’ve got to enjoy these things when they come up. 

On a related note, what do the sinuses do for me anyways?  Why can’t I just jettison them like tonsils or sobriety?  (more…)

Can’t move.  I keep pushing the nurse’s buzzer but all that happens is the channel changes.  I’ve been in and out of a food coma for two days and while I keep waiting for someone to be merciful and pull my plug, the white light is just the little bulb in the back of the fridge.

Just taking a moment away from the new shineys to share two thoughts from yesterday.

• Since the cops were still at my bank doing their crime scene investigation for the latest robbery, should I have maybe gone somewhere else to make my deposit yesterday?
• When the soused hausfrau two seats down from me at the Charger’s game was melting down, both mentally and in terms of what the tears were doing to her makeup, should we as a crowd have come up with something better than the twenty-something offering her nachos?

Good Santas.

Bad Santas.

Who knew that even the jolly elf had evil twins? 

It was also interesting to note that while the Times reported on one woman’s request for “a new cellphone and Shaquille O’Neal under the tree”, they didn’t say what, if anything, Santa was going to bring her for wanting to get a little naughty.  Since hopefully it’s acts and not thoughts that matter, I guess that’s an issue for Santa to take up next year.

Woe is me.  Winter is upon us.  Boo hoo.  However will we get though this?  Will the poor woman lose her tan and have to endure a white Christmas?  Will the frustrated surfers have to find thicker wetsuits, or worse yet, *gasp* layer?  Will poor Santa remember to slather on enough sunscreen or is he going to end up as red as Rudolph’s nose?  This is truly the season of tremendous hardships. 

Spinnerdude’s winter sabbatical starts today whenever he wakes up and recovers from the sugar coma caused by students not trying to buy grades with excessive seasonal treats.  Please go keep him occupied so I can get some work done.

Escaped to the Wild Animal Park this morning after a particularly awful conference call.  Needed to get clear of clients, and people in general, so I went over to watch the animals play.  Relaxing for the most part.  It is a nice place to sit and watch the animals in almost natural settings, and the botanicial gardens are first-rate too. 

But a terrifying sight literally stumbled into me in the back of the park.  I was just past the elephants and heading toward the big cats when I topped a hill and saw a herd (or flock) of them in front of me. 

American Teenagers (immaturis americanis) out of their element.  Sixteen-year-old consumers and future temp workers who were too stupid stoned oblivious to know the difference between a lion and a tiger.  I suppose they were too involved with their video games to even watch Disney movies as kids.  I really do think some kind of a trapping and sterilization program might be our only chance for survival as a species. 

Now, as a public service for our younger readers:

• This is a tiger.
• This is a lion.

Sitting here with my coffee and a plate full of left-over mini quiches for breakfast.  Bacon, eggs, cheese and pastry all in handy bite-size morsels.

It’s really about freedom of expression and tolerating individuality, which are core values of our society.

The Right to Wear Tigger.  It certainly sounds silly when you say it that way, but the ACLU attorney quoted (and at S.F. Gate) above got it right.  Hopefully paying $95,000 in attorneys fees will help some bureaucrats learn that lesson as well. I’ve never understood how squelching expression in the young was supposed to teach them to responsibly express themselves as adults, but then again I’m not an education bureaucrat. 

Not just gingerbread men, but California gingerbread men.  Soft and doughy won’t cut it, even in the winter months. 
Time to get those little bodies firmed up and properly browned.  Even the appetizers have to be looking good for the big day.  We’ll be having none of that pasty ‘white christmas’ nonsense in these parts.