there is nothing passive about my aggresion.

The last week of the month """last week of the month""" is usually kind of rough for me, probably rougher for Chad because he has to deal with essentially a mentally unstable female. This past 48 hours though have been ridiculous.

I will now elaborate.

I applied for North Carolina residency, this involves a long winded complicated form as to which they want to know some inane shit like, hey how many times have you been on vacation since you have lived in North Carolina? what did you do on vacation? why did you go on vacation? how much of your money is in what bank and for how long and why? What did you do the last Thursday of June in 1996 and was it in North Carolina? Were you thinking about North Carolina that day? Do you secretly wish you could shape your head into the state of North Carolina? Isn't North Carlina the COOLEST STATE YOU HAVE EVER EVEN HEARD OF!? Also, please submit your tax return. Hey its cool though because I was all frustrated as shit while I was in North Carolina. Also, while I was in North Carolina yesterday I received an e-mail from Julie who is reviewing my application. She informed me that I, *I*, I submitted someone else's tax return with my application, someone by the name of Pergolotti, and if I could please resubmit *my* tax form, thanks kindly. I had to walk away from my desk as to not return Julie's email with the bad news that I was going to inform her halfway home that she is using again. Hey Julie, I understand sometimes stapling documents together is complicated, but I'm kind of impressed with your gall to blame it on me.

So I went to resubmit my tax return, and the application is set up as such that you have to

fill
out
the
whole
thing
again

and now to trump assholitis story #1 we will proceed to assholitis story #2:

this morning on my bike ride I was hit by a car. no wait. one more time for emphasis. this morning on my bike ride I was hit by a car. That's right, a car slammed into my left arm so hard their passenger side mirror broke. The car thusly gunned it and sped off.

The car behind them pulled over to make sure I was okay, and I watched this nice lady's face turn from a look of concern and worry to a look of worry and horror as the most delightful combination of explicatives were stitched together in a way that would have made George Carlin blush. The lady slowly drove off after I assured her I was more pissed than hurt, but still in the midst of my detailed explanation as to what would happen after I hunted this man down, and did she get a make on the car?

More importantly, this confirms what I already know:

I have arms of steel.

this is going to hurt tomorrow.

After spending infinitesimally more cumulative time in the hospital over the past three months than either the gym or my bike combined, and after dropping almost 10% of my body weight, and after surgery, and after 100's of needle sticks, and IVs, and ER visits, and too many melt downs--and being so supremely out of shape that walking 30 min yesterday made my calves ungodly sore today -- dude, I just got on my bike for the first time in months and dragged my skeletal ass up and down 20 miles worth of man eating hills.



yeah. it was kind of that victorious.

and my skeletal ass, oh god, I may not be able to sit for a week.

Three caffeine induced life truths.

Upon waking yesterday morning from four hours of sleep to a really not so surprising wine hangover - I decided caffeine-- superfluous* amounts of caffeine that is, would be my answer to not only make it through my morning alive, but to also fuel what would be an otherwise miserable bike ride. <div><div> </div><div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BX5XZE96eqJPvv-gb65Cx30P7YIdVj8TqTqop-vpfBlxA6TXHUmBVqKuHFSAGJSchaFVflJiPA8wj0q_5DTYxtRAiFEbVDcRZNYUMZVTUSUpxRvpVM6qkg_BnhRe0aCmDyb5P8lFw34/s1600-h/n6204132_38339980_6157.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 201px; height: 344px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BX5XZE96eqJPvv-gb65Cx30P7YIdVj8TqTqop-vpfBlxA6TXHUmBVqKuHFSAGJSchaFVflJiPA8wj0q_5DTYxtRAiFEbVDcRZNYUMZVTUSUpxRvpVM6qkg_BnhRe0aCmDyb5P8lFw34/s400/n6204132_38339980_6157.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245330243771896114" border="0" /></a>* Main Entry: superfluous Part of Speech: adj Definition 1: more than enough; overabundant; extra </div><div>Definition 2: one cup of coffee brewed from espresso beans, one sugar-free red bull, one Centrum weight smart with Caffeine and Guarana </div><div><div style="text-align: left;">I began my ride as per normal, perusing through my mp3 player, and for the first time in years, not skipping over Jane's Addiction. One JA song led to another, and led me to another, until I was solely listening to the entire Kettle Whistle album - which leads me to <strong>truth number 1</strong>, Jane's addiction is totally worth revisiting, Jane and I have come full circle, furious grunge rock found its way back into my now rapidly beating little hamster heart. </div> </div><div>As I fiercely forwarded from one song to the next- caffeine was subsequently taking over my bike ride/heart/life/soul. Now, in an insane pedaling frenzy, frustrated that suddenly this whole, axle/chain system was making my ride way too easy, and contemplating perhaps running, whilst carrying my bike, and maybe a few average sized men on my back --to adequately consume this insurmountable level of energy surging through my soul, I transpired into my very own living breathing quintessential Brawndo commercial. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tbxq0IDqD04">www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tbxq0IDqD04</a> (and can also apparently, render the wolrd's longest and most impressive run on sentences) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Byw4Al8J2I1B_sAXdd52X0J6fDxcFuUFxu2VKiR-Bx6_rWohZkY6gH2pu34li4NMMDRGfLG0vodgV4f6my-YNYksD8u0uX2NEqUxAOii0XvNRg5n4QVfl-OyUpawte70YpVOdHHXlNY/s1600-h/Bike8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 186px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Byw4Al8J2I1B_sAXdd52X0J6fDxcFuUFxu2VKiR-Bx6_rWohZkY6gH2pu34li4NMMDRGfLG0vodgV4f6my-YNYksD8u0uX2NEqUxAOii0XvNRg5n4QVfl-OyUpawte70YpVOdHHXlNY/s400/Bike8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245328110612826658" border="0" /></a> </div><div>Riding, at perhaps 300 rpm, maybe averaging 50 mph, head-bopping and arm waving to Jane's addiction, I arrive at a stoplight and realize I am in fact, surrounded by morning traffic and perhaps I might look slightly foolish in my cycling/dancing endeavors. In my peripheral vision, I see a flurry - of something, something rapidly moving - furiously - scaring me that I am now starting to hallucinate on what can only be an overdose of caffeine. Upon further inspection, the flurry is a lady, and her arms are moving insanely fast. Her arm storm was inclusive of ripinng motions to her head, specifically her ears. I thought maybe we were on some caffeine induced ethereal page together. The terribly unexciting truth was, she just wanted me to remove my headphones to scold me, leaving JA to blare loud enough for at least three cars back to enjoy. (free beats!) </div> <div>"I can't believe you ride with your headphones on!! Is it really necessary for you to listen to music while you ride? Don't you know the dangers of riding and not being able to hear traffic?? You need to be careful young lady, I am just trying to look out for you, you should take those things off!!" </div><div>Hey lady, maybe the next time you go on a bike ride, and judging from your sheer size would be never, but if you do, and also you get lost - and you are now 40 miles into your ride and you blew through all of your electrolytes hours ago, and also your are trying to peddle up a hill - which if it was any steeper cars would fall off the face of the earth - and your thigh cramps, but you can't stop because there isn't enough time to unclip your fucking shoe without falling over because you are moving up said hill so slowly...and the ONLY thing you have to rely on, your only fucking thigh cramp emollient, is the strong beat of Particle --And the only alternative to Particle is to kill yourself, because the pain is ungodly intense, THEN YES I DO NEED TO WEAR HEADPHONES WHEN I RIDE. (<strong>Truth #2)</strong> And if you are so inclined to be such the altruist, then maybe you can go clean up the vomit I laid down on 751 north, exorcist style. </div><div></div> <div>Which leads me to <strong>Truth #3</strong>, when your eggs expired two months ago, don't eat that shit.</div></div>Upon waking yesterday morning from four hours of sleep to a really not so surprising wine hangover - I decided caffeine-- superfluous* amounts of caffeine that is, would be my answer to not only make it through my morning alive, but to also fuel what would be an otherwise miserable bike ride.

*
Main Entry: superfluous
Part of Speech: adj
Definition 1: more than enough; overabundant; extra

Definition 2: one cup of coffee brewed from espresso beans, one sugar-free red bull, one Centrum weight smart with Caffeine and Guarana

I began my ride as per normal, perusing through my mp3 player, and for the first time in years, not skipping over Jane's Addiction. One JA song led to another, and led me to another, until I was solely listening to the entire Kettle Whistle album - which leads me to truth number 1, Jane's addiction is totally worth revisiting, Jane and I have come full circle, furious grunge rock found its way back into my now rapidly beating little hamster heart.

As I fiercely forwarded from one song to the next- caffeine was subsequently taking over my bike ride/heart/life/soul. Now, in an insane pedaling frenzy, frustrated that suddenly this whole, axle/chain system was making my ride way too easy, and contemplating perhaps running, whilst carrying my bike, and maybe a few average sized men on my back --to adequately consume this insurmountable level of energy surging through my soul, I transpired into my very own living breathing quintessential Brawndo commercial. www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tbxq0IDqD04 (and can also apparently, render the wolrd's longest and most impressive run on sentences)

Riding, at perhaps 300 rpm, maybe averaging 50 mph, head-bopping and arm waving to Jane's addiction, I arrive at a stoplight and realize I am in fact, surrounded by morning traffic and perhaps I might look slightly foolish in my cycling/dancing endeavors. In my peripheral vision, I see a flurry - of something, something rapidly moving - furiously - scaring me that I am now starting to hallucinate on what can only be an overdose of caffeine. Upon further inspection, the flurry is a lady, and her arms are moving insanely fast. Her arm storm was inclusive of ripinng motions to her head, specifically her ears. I thought maybe we were on some caffeine induced ethereal page together. The terribly unexciting truth was, she just wanted me to remove my headphones to scold me, leaving JA to blare loud enough for at least three cars back to enjoy. (free beats!)

"I can't believe you ride with your headphones on!! Is it really necessary for you to listen to music while you ride? Don't you know the dangers of riding and not being able to hear traffic?? You need to be careful young lady, I am just trying to look out for you, you should take those things off!!"

Hey lady, maybe the next time you go on a bike ride, and judging from your sheer size would be never, but if you do, and also you get lost - and you are now 40 miles into your ride and you blew through all of your electrolytes hours ago, and also your are trying to peddle up a hill - which if it was any steeper cars would fall off the face of the earth - and your thigh cramps, but you can't stop because there isn't enough time to unclip your fucking shoe without falling over because you are moving up said hill so slowly...and the ONLY thing you have to rely on, your only fucking thigh cramp emollient, is the strong beat of Particle --And the only alternative to Particle is to kill yourself, because the pain is ungodly intense, THEN YES I DO NEED TO WEAR HEADPHONES WHEN I RIDE. (Truth #2) And if you are so inclined to be such the altruist, then maybe you can go clean up the vomit I laid down on 751 north, exorcist style.

Which leads me to Truth #3, when your eggs expired two months ago, don't eat that shit.