Buddyhead will get you free shit

i learned this morning that this shirt will get you free coffee and a dozen Dunkin Donuts for the price of 6 at the kw hwy DD, compliments of your friendly hardcore counter help. (the tall skinny guy with all the piercings. whist!)

i am in a shitty mood because rudy informed me yesterday afternoon that i've torn my hamstring again -- not as bad as the first time -- and i didn't get much sleep because i started reading The Raw Shark Texts last night and could not stop.

so i'm sleepy and i hate the world, and then some guy gives me a break cos he likes my shirt. here's where i could be all blog-closurely and claim i feel so much better but even with that act of kindness my shit's still torn, my head still throbs and and i still want to be the fuck alone.

The Raw Shark Texts is really good, though: well-written, unusual plotline and unputdownable. recommended by mark danielewski and rightfully so.

noli me tangere

remember the hammie??

well, rudy's claimed my calf as his next victim. it crashed like a harddrive baby. while i lay sweating and groaning on rudy's table i considered biting my tongue in half because i thought that might make him stop sooner.

-- it's all soft tissue, deep soleus, some gastroc - rudy said as he prepped an ice bath for me - NOT a stress fracture: there're no hotspots on the tib. but i don't want you running or doing anything high-impact for the next week; there's too much acute pain in there.

i might have pouted a bit here. or it could have been my pained face as i hobbled over to the whirlpool.

-- oh stop it with the hangdog look. this is no big deal. remember your hamstring? you got over that. you runners... vicki does the same exact thing. 'oh woe, doldrums, i'll never run again moan moan moan.'

-- my world's crashing down around me, like.

-- yes, that. it's not that bad. come back in two weeks, one if it gets worse.

MF FattyTime.