Stolen Domain

I no longer own the domain name brokebutstilldrinking because someone bought it out from under my nose. Actually, it expired over the holidays and I was too busy partaking in holiday cheer to renew the domain. I looked over the new website and it's actually pretty strange because the domain name is completely irrelevant to the stuff which is published. I guess they thought they would get some free traffic...the jokes on them - good luck with that. I thought about finding a new domain but I don't really give a shit. I'll just have to rely on the old faithful blogger account.

Severe drooling problems and adult diapers

I don't know what in the hell is wrong with me. As a child I never thought I'd be the guy who woke up drenched in my own drool. I feel like at some point in the night a whale swims into my dreams and unleashes its blow hole into the direction of my pillow. My neck, my beard, the collar of my t-shirt all become victims of the slow leak that continues throughout the night. It would be one thing if the sludge creeping down my chin smelled like bubble gum or candy canes, but it does not.

I looked into some possible solutions and it seems I may suffer from sort of nasal congestion and this forces my mouth to search for an alternative source of oxygen. My mouth becomes the grand canyon of the bedroom as soon as I drift to sleep. I don't even want to think of the amount of spiders who have come to my mouth for shelter, only to find themselves heading down my throat hours later. Maybe this is why I no longer wake up hungry in the mornings.

I could head off to the store to buy some drool bibs, but then I'd have to borrow a child from someone, maybe my niece will do. Maybe the easier solution is to wait for some mother to leave her child's bag unattended and help myself to a few products.

There has to be an answer, and the answer is not for my fiance to throw my pillows off the bed each morning, "Those things smell disgusting!"

I hope this isn't a sign for things to come. I don't want to be a guy in diapers. Who will change my diapers?

A vodka enema

I was at the bar last night and 1000 Ways to Die played on the television. The bartender mentioned an episode where a man died from shoving a bottle of vodka up his ass and I immediately started laughing. I laughed at the thought there actually was an episode on the topic or if the network would actually broadcast such an episode on tv.

"It makes sense because your ass doesn't have a gag reflex so it doesn't know when to stop chugging so you'd probably die from alcohol poisoning," Otis O'Flanningan said, entertaining the fact that people in the world are shoving bottles of vodka up their asses.

"You two are insane. Why would someone want to shove a bottle of vodka up their ass?" I asked.

"I think he wanted to get a buzz quicker. A woman shoved a bottle of vodka up her husband's ass and he ended up dying," the bartender said and flicked her over her shoulder, as if this is everyday bar conversation around these parts.

"Who would want to get a buzz that quick?" I said - looking to Otis O'Flanningan who was hunched over the bar laughing and trying to keep his crutches from falling away from the bar.

"Well Bear Grylls drank dirty water through his ass because he knew he wouldn't be able to keep it down," he said.

"So now your asshole doubles as a water filtration system?" I said laughing.

"No but it can help you absorb water that you otherwise couldn't swallow," he replied.

I couldn't help it, even though I didn't want it on my Blackberry's search history, I had to look and so I Googled shoving a bottle of vodka up your ass. I think the responses on some of the forums were just as funny as the thought of someone drinking vodka through their sphincter:

Anyone asking such a question must be suffering from severe mental retardation.

One things for certain, nobody will be asking to sip from your bottle.

ROTFLMAO

These weren't the expert opinions I was looking for but it's probably best that the question remains a mystery to me. I don't think I want to know about people drinking vodka through their asses.

Don't place blame

A man was standing outside of his foreclosed home with a case of empty beer bottles, playing out the memories of a recent and bitter divorce in his mind.

"Yur'd da reason I don't av a wife," he said, smashing the 1st empty beer bottle off the wall.

"Yur'd da reason I don't av a car," he said, smashing the 2nd empty beer bottle against the wall.

"Yur'd da reason I don't av any friends," he said, smashing the 3rd empty beer bottle against the wall.

He reached into the case and discovered a sealed and full bottle of beer.

"Step aside my friend, I know you weren't involved."

Fake Betting

It's about that time of year again, college football has arrived and I really want to make the games interesting without costing myself an apartment or vehicle. I'll call up one of the bookies and go through my typical song and dance.

Bookie: What do you want?

Me: I want to bet on these games.

Bookie: Ten dollar bets again? You don't pay anyways.

Me: Let's make it 1 dollar bets this year and I don't expect to pay or get paid.

Bet against me and you'll make a fortune.

My picks:

Notre Dame -10½ over Purdue

BYU -1 over Washington

NC +9½ over LSU

Pic of broken file in root canal

You can see the broken file sticking out of the root on the left.

I was having problems with my teeth last year and finally decided to go to the dentist. I didn't have insurance so I knew any news would be bad news because my dead presidents were about to loose quite a few members.. I asked my mother who I should go see.

"Well, who's your dentist?" she asked.

"What do you mean? You know I've always gone to Dr. Clark," I said.

"Chad! Dr. Clark has been retired for 14 years."

"It's been that long? No wonder I'm having problems with my teeth."

Apparently the rest of my family had taken the retirement of our family dentist a lot better than me and moved on to new and younger dentists, but I'm not as easily talked into letting someone new play with my mouth. I finally agreed to see my father's dentist.

It was a lot different than I remembered. These new dentists had suction devices and rinsing with water and spitting into a bucket had become a thing of the past so I already grew concerned at how much this suction service was going to cost me.

Long story short, I needed two root canals and I was given an estimate of $3000 or I could have them both pulled for $400. I was going to have them yanked but my family convinced me that teeth were important and that I should try to hang on to as many as possible.

I paid $700 out-of-pocket for the first root canal and then my new job provided me with dental insurance and my expenses were cut down some. I ended up having the other root canal and crown done and it cost me about $700. The out-of-pocket tooth wasn't crowned because I was having problems with it. My dentist opened it back up and tried cleaning the root canals a little better but to no avail. It was about 8 appointments (I think the dentist was milking my insurance co) and close to $2000 later and my tooth was still hurting.

"I think there may be a broken file in one of the canals and that's why you're still having pain," said my dentist, "and I'm going to send you to a specialist I know to take a look at it."

"Will I have to pay for that?" I asked.

"You'll have to pay for the visit and see what your insurance will and will not cover," she explained.

I was pissed. Why am I responsible for paying for her mistake? I stormed out of the office and called my mother bitching. She told me I should have gone to her dentist from the get go and said to go see her specialist and not bother seeing the dentist's recommended specialist. I did go see the specialist my mother recommended and she said it didn't look like a broken file but it looked like the tooth was fractured. The specialist called my dentist and recommended she put in a tighter compound and see how that works out. Thankfully the specialist was nice enough not to charge me for the visit. I decided I was going to hold off on having the tooth finished because I was going to wait until my insurance was back to covering the rest of the treatments.

It had been about three months since the last visit to the dentist and I couldn't take it any longer. My tooth was killing me and I could no longer take the pain anymore. I was at work the other day and called my dentist during lunch break. I wanted to tell her to just pull the thing out because I wasn't giving her anymore money. Conveniently the dentist was on vacation for the week so I had to call on my mother once again. She called and made me an appointment with the oral surgeon she had seen in the past. He was able to squeeze me in the same and I left work early and made my way to the surgeon's office. Three shots of Novocaine, some very firm twisting and pulling and the tooth was finally extracted from my face.

"How about that," he said and held up one of the roots. "Looks like there was a broken file in your root canal."

Son-of-a-bitch. That stupid dentist botched my root canal and I had to pay another $200 to have the $700 dollars worth of worked pulled out of my mouth. I'm pissed. I've google searched broken files in root canals and it seems to be a very big occurrence in dentistry. How can these crooks get away with this bullshit? Most forums say you can't do anything because you sign paperwork stating that root canals are not an exact science and dentists aren't accountable. I wonder what would happen if the rest of the world operated this way.

Prostate Exam somewhere...

"Mr. Johnson, we're going to put this instrument up your rectum but we're going to need you to sign this form because we can't guarantee will get this instrument out of your ass once we get it up there."

Pet Groomer somewhere...

"I'm here to pick up Rover."

"Ahh, Rover is dead."

"What!! He was only getting a haircut."

"Yeah but the intern had him in the tub and forgot to turn off the water and Rover drowned. Sorry about your loss. We have some strays out back if you want to go have a look. We can give you one for twenty bucks."

Making adult decisions

I'm not known for making adult decisions but something happened over the weekend and I actually made an adult decision for one of the few times in my life. I was recently offered a new job and it's actually a professional job, so I'll be working in a professional environment for the first time in nine years. I don't know if my brother was as happy about the news, being I would no longer be working the front desk at the salon and practicing my skills as a shampoo boy, I'm sure it was a sad day for the women patrons as well.

I decided I should take a vacation before I started my new job in the city, so I called up some of the old tree guys in North Carolina to see what was happening down there and tell them of my plans for a visit.

"Come on down, Plinky." I earned the nickname Plinky because I used to takes bottles of Pelinkovac to them back from my visits to PA.

"Get down here, Plinky. We're actually going deep sea fishing in Charleston, SC for the weekend and we already rented a fishing boat and hotel room so the trip's already covered," my old boss explained.

"Ok, but how much do I have to chip in?" I asked.

"Not much. I know how big of a cheap ass you are and we won't make you throw in too much," he explained.

A cheap vacation is exactly what I had in mind before starting my new job so I made quick arrangements to get down south. I told my brother I needed him to find someone to fill in for me because I was leaving to go on vacation. I pretty much had my bags packed in an hour and I was out the door and on my way down to North Carolina to meet up with my old coworkers, where we would leave in the morning for Charleston, SC.

I was in my car and headed down south on interstate 79 when my phone rang, "Are you on your way?" my former boss asked.

"Yup. I just left. I'll be in town around 12:15 tonight so have some beer ready," I said.

"We'll have more than beer ready. We bought all kinds of mushrooms and cocaine so the weekend is going to be killer," he said.

"Really? Sounds great," I said reluctantly.

I immediately had a bad feeling from that point on. I stopped working for my boss years ago and started my own tree business because there was too much drug use at his company and too many missed paychecks, so I didn't want to be associated with that lifestyle anymore, especially since I was starting a new job in less than two weeks. I had a sense of foreboding for the next three hours and I kept thinking I should just turn around, even though I kept pushing further south.

I made it all the way to Beckley, WV and decided this trip was a bad idea. I didn't want to risk getting pulled over or something along those lines and getting some kind of drug charges against me, so I went through a 2 dollar toll booth, drove a mile down the road, turned around and paid 2 more dollars to head back up north. My old boss called and asked me my location and I told him I never left and that I was still back in Pittsburgh. He was in disbelief and hung up the phone.

I had driven exactly 7 hours and paid $6.50 in tolls to not go on vacation. I called my girlfriend and explained my situation and she said, "Wow! You're actually making big boy decisions."

"Well don't think this means I'm not going on vacation. I'm going on vacation in the apartment, so I don't want to be bothered. I'm planning on sitting on the couch, watching tv, and drinking beer and I don't want to be bothered."

"So what will be different from this weekend and the past 4 weekends," she asked.

"This is an official vacation. Just like the vacation Al Bundy took on Married with Children, the one where Al sectioned off a piece of the living room and Peg, Kelly and Bud had to leave him alone," I explained.

"Sounds great. I can't wait," she said.

And that's exactly what I did, I sat on my back deck with a couple of buddies and went fishing for a beer buzz.