Trans-Siberian Orchestra Rocked

The show TSO put on in Hershey was amazing!  With over 2 hours of performance time and the mind-blowing laser light show with pyrotechnics and a beautiful story line….wow!  Powerful!

I was impressed the string section of the orchestra was made up of Hershey’s own local musicians and even more impressive was the $8,000.00 TSO donated to local charities from the ticket sales for the show.

Best Light Show Ever,

~P.

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He ate sh*t

Thank you for all the messages, texts and calls asking if I am doing alright.  I was one sick pup.

A week ago, I couldn’t stop vomiting.  I couldn’t focus on my finals or even the computer screen.  Given that I wasn’t improving, I went to the emergency room.  Stomach virus diagnosed but the doctors were concerned about the pain in my abdomen.  Lucky me got an internal exam in the ER and they took a sample of every bodily fluid possible.  The only thing they didn’t take a sample of was my poo.

The medication from the hospital slowed the projectile vomiting but didn’t stop it completely.  The next day I had a strange bowel movement.  Yeah, I know gross topic.  When I say “strange” bowel movement, I mean STRANGE.  There was this little ball in there, looked like tapioca.  I never saw anything like it before.  (not that I usually check out my poo, but because of being sick I was taking a keener interest than usual.)

I go see my family doctor and he gives me a lab slip to take a bowel sample to Wellspan to check for parasites.  Ok, now I was getting a little freaked out.  How the hell would I get a parasite?!  Well, college students are known for eating any food left out which is especially common around the holidays and right before Christmas break.  My doctor said it is possible to pick up a parasite anywhere.  That being said, a college campus must be a haven for parasites and germs.

The next day I poo in a “hat” and have to drive it within the hour to Wellspan.  I get to the one over on Monument Road in York but I’m not sure which building has the laboratory in it.  I park and go to the closest door.  The receptionist tells me I’m one building off so I head back out to my car to complete the poo delivery.  I get out to the car and Ying is jumping around all happy to see me.  I unlock and open the car door and the smell practically knocks me over.  The specimen container has been chewed open and my sample has been sampled.  I start retching in the parking lot absolutely disgusted by my shit eating dog.  The bowl is 95% empty but I still went over to the lab.  I explained my dog ate my sample and I would attempt to deliver another.  The sad little turds I submitted were rejected in person and I was given a new specimen container and told to come back when I could produce a larger sample.  My nurse did state that this was a first for her, no other patient has claimed their dog ate their shit.

So today, on what I had hoped might be my last earthly day, instead became sample delivery day without the canine interference.

Looks like the world is not ending.  I put up my Christmas tree.

Going to see Trans-Siberian Orchestra tonight with Dale.

Happy Holidays to all!  Jesus is the reason for this season.  Not Santa!!!

Still kicking on the last day of the world,

~P.

PS. Does this mean Ying might get a parasite?

Everyone works with a wacky bitch right?

Morry has been working at Chicken Mountain farm stores for a year and three months.  He likes his job and finds most days to be pleasant, unique and entertaining.  That is with exception.  There are always exceptions to rules.  Exceptions make life most interesting.

The Christmas music is monotonous.  The same damn tracks over and over.  I hate it.  Now I hate Christmas music.  Thanks Chicken Mountain.  Thanks.  I am working with that “wacky chick” the one whose is an oddball and weirds everyone out with her singing or babbling about the tiniest thing we have in common.  Hello new girl who doesn’t shut up.  I just focus on the rendition of songs over and over.  The damn “tape” or “loop” or what the hell ever drags or speeds up (at times amusing, if nothing else) causing customer comments.  At least working the deli keeps me busy.

Whack!  I instantly raised my hand to my cheek while looking down at the floor.  A decent size piece of green pepper just bounced off his face to the floor.  Seriously Wacky: you just pelted me with a piece of pepper?  What the hell are you thinking..?

Raising my eye level to her height but still looking down, “Don’t you ever do that again.”  She froze like a deer with its ass hanging out in the spot light (or whatever the hell that stupid saying is) and I saw her eyes widen.  “That’s right, I’m serious.”  I expected this to cease the bullshit, but never underestimate the wacky people.  Half a cherry tomato hit my right shoulder; it’s other half just below my name tag and into the front pocket of my apron.   The tomato goo was stuck to my work shirt with a few tiny seeds left behind for good measure.  That’s when my serious side arose from its slumber.

What the hell, I’m bleeding.  The wacky bitch threw a knife at me?  No, that’s a bullet hole.  I’m shot?  She fucking shot me?  Unbelievable!  Is she that starved for attention she will shoot me for ignoring her senseless ramble?  Where’s the gun?!  Screw it!  I grabbed the carving knife in front of me, ready to defend myself until I bleed out.  Out of nowhere my manager tackles me like she’s a linebacker for the Steeler’s.  The knife flies out of my hand, landing on the crappy tile floor with a clatter.  I was defenseless against the pair.  Wacky grabs the knife up and tosses it into the sink.  My manager kept screeching “Call the police!  Call the police!”  How can I call the police with her fat ass holding me down?

I hear the sirens; the medics are the first to arrive.  Interesting…as fat ass never yelled for an ambulance.  She finally gets off me at the demand of the medical team.  I could hear them and saw their little pen light pierce my eyes.  No one was paying any attention to the bullet holes in my body!  Do they want me to die?!  One shouts something about my eyes and dilation.  I’m not sure what the hell they are so fixated on.  Wow, what a morning I’m having.  How the hell did my roommates know I was going to have an epic morning?  I remember them harassing me about being scrambled in the head.  This conversation took place over coffee they prepared while they showed me a fascinating rendition of Van Gogh’s Starry Night printed on a heavy perforated sheet of paper.  I never saw such a thing and pulled it out of the thin plastic piece of cellophane.

“This is so cool! “ I told them.  “What is this called?” I inquired.  “Oh, it’s called a blotter sheet.  It’s a big thing in the art world.  Never saw one before huh?” they asked.   I responded, “Nope.”  They giggled and said, “Enjoy your morning.  We have to head out.”  I called out as they made a beeline for the door, “Thanks man.  You guys have a good one too.”

They had no idea what I was in for.

Dear John~Tell Your Friends

I know exactly what I ain’t
I put it here in this complaint
You think my childhood passion
Just needs a pan to flash in
Cash in, you sinner — I got patience like a saint

It shouldn’t get me but it does
I only bring it up because
I know the way you pander
To any second-hander
Some slander how I’m not the lock you thought I was

Heard what you say about me
You’re better off without me
Heard I was beggin’ you to stay

Don’t have to do this, do we?
Each word gets right back to me
This town’s too small for you to say
(And since you’ll say it anyway)

You can tell your friends that I changed

Heard what you said about me
You’re better off without me
Heard I was beggin’ you to stay

So we’re above this, are we?
Why won’t you say you’re sorry?
I get more sorry every day

You can tell your friends that I changed

 

You’re wrong
And I’m right
And that won’t change
Not even if we fight

I’ll take
That bet
And this will be
The last of me you get

Offered the riches
That went along with the realm
A seat at the table
Even a turn at the helm

Just not too certain
About the points that you’re sure on
’Cause you know “negative feedback”
Is such an oxy-damned-moron

You’re there
And I’m here
And that’s the long
And short of it, my dear

I live
This way
And that is all
Her highness has to say

Offered the riches
That went along with the realm
A seat at the table
Even a turn at the helm

But that bad machinery’d
Only tear me to tatters
And I got plans for the future
Well, you know — not that it matters

Offered the riches
That went along with the realm
A seat at the table
Even a turn at the helm

Whispering voices
Too soft and soothing to measure
“Why be a regional hero
When you’re a national treasure?”
And you can tell your friends that I changed

 

Lyrics by Mary Prankster

York College Graphic Arts Election Posters

Election posters hanging in the halls at YCP.  A fresh look at encouraging voter turn-out.  ~P.

Loving the Comment

Another blogger wrote this comment:

WOW! I’m so stoked to find this blog, it’s the garbage dump of the internet! Keep up the good work, nothing like a Whiskey Tango Trainwreck to pass the time!!  -Puddentame

My response:

Yes, my life is full of garbage. Lucky me. I do have a few roses within the compost area. People hate loving to look at a train wreck. I’m surviving so I just wave and appreciate the comments as you pass through. :-) ~P.

 

 

Artist Photography

Photo shoot: Nude Men in Chain

~P.

Click on the first picture to open the gallery.

The Shadow Knows

Shadows are interesting.  Like your favorites….feel free to comment!  ~P.

10 Ways to Tell if Your Story Should be a Memoir or a Novel | WritersDigest.com

10 Ways to Tell if Your Story Should be a Memoir or a Novel | WritersDigest.com.

Dear John~Stop contacting my family

Letters he nevers learns from

Dear John,

This is the last straw.  They had to medicate my mother in rehab after your surprise visit.  Or should I call it an attack?  Do not call my parents to take Tesla to them.  They have a daughter (AS IN ME) who will gladly take their granddaughter (TESLA) to see them.

My dad is a drama king, just like you.  It is my mother who suffers.  She doesn’t give a shit if you’re mad at her or not.  What she does give a shit about is you staying out of her physical therapy room, interrupting like you have something important to say.  If my mom talks to Tesla, butt out and let them talk.  You listening in is causing all types of problems.

As far as your refusing to let Tesla and I spend time together over the Thanksgiving break from our schools, you don’t surprise me.  If you feel like it’s a win for you to separate us over extended amounts of time….well that wouldn’t surprise me either.

Stop contacting everyone in my family, including Dale.

Not dearly yours,

~P