Oh, Yeah . . .

. . . I forgot I had this blog.

Quite a bit has happened in the past several weeks. Some of which I started to write about before, but was soon interrupted and left unfinished.

The last few days I've been out of the office. I've written before of my eye issues, where swelling and rock hard glands have become the norm every few months. I'm not pointing any fingers at the cause of this malady . . . cough . . . the cat . . . cough. . . but it's become an aggravating recurrence that leaves me being rude to my co-workers, pissed-off at anything that so much looks at me, and eats away at my vacation days like a yellow cartoon pie chart noshing away at tiny pellets. (I fucking hate the word nosh. Why did I just use it?)

The only pro of this ailment is that I get to wear novelty eye coverings. Last time was an eye patch that illicited fear from anyone in the same room as me. Today, it's the giant aviator sunglasses whose pitch-black frames resemble those of a champion poker-player rather than a lackey of the tax industry. Thus far in my sole office-hour, I've been standing up at random intervals and breathing heavily - like a man whose existence is tied to the face of the next card.

And with that, I've adopted the style and manner of a drunken Scotty Nguyen:



I sent this video to my friend, David. He replied with a story that Scotty Nguyen told to a table.

When he was fleeing Vietnam in his youth, he and his brother were on a boat for 22 days with a group of refugees. They survived off condensation, but without food they were slowly starving to death. Nguyen's little brother had gotten sick and it was assumed there'd be no recovery. The group had decided that they'd eat the sick child the next day. When Nguyen was told of the plan, he replied, "Yeah, baby, let's eat my brother."