Rock legend Tom Petty has passed away after suffering a heart attack. He was only 66 years old.
So far this week has sucked copious amounts of ass, and it’s only Tuesday.
Tom Petty died on Monday, one day after he was found in cardiac arrest at his home, Variety has confirmed.
The iconic singer, 66, was rushed to the hospital and placed on life support after he was found unconscious inside his Malibu home, TMZ first reported on Monday. He was rushed to UCLA Santa Monica Hospital, where sources told the gossip site that he had no brain activity and a decision was later made to take him off life support.
Petty rose to fame with his band Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers in the 1970s with hits like “American Girl” and “Free Fallin.’” The band recently completed a 40th anniversary tour. Their last performance was on Sept. 25 at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles.
Heartbroken. I listened to his music on my Walkman for hours and hours traveling to and from college. His music is timeless, and he was larger than life. I can no way express the grief I feel right now. It’s like losing a family member.
Below is not only one of my favorite Petty songs, but also the greatest video ever aired on MTV. Enjoy.
Continue reading “Tom Petty, 1950-2017”
Last week I mentioned our summer vacation at the Jersey shore. During said vacation, Mr. Skin Cancer got his upper arms scorched – because I’m a stubborn, stupid, silly man. The burn was fairly severe, but I sucked it up and went to work.
This week, my arms started peeling, and the sunburned skin dried up to the point of pain. I rotated between applying aloe lotion to my arms during the day and Gold Bond anti-itch cream at night. Things were progressing slowly, so I made an appointment with my dermatologist. I figured I’d rather he yell at me now than later.
Last night, I went to bed at 1am and woke up at 4 to a wet shirt. My arms were leaking some discolored liquid, and, thinking it was an infection, I rushed to the ER. One doctor came in the room and asked what happened and what I put on the burns. After he listened to me, he left and brought in a specialist. The specialist heard about the Gold Bond and stopped me in mid-sentence.
“There’s your problem. The skin was cracked and broken, and the Gold Bond caused a chemical reaction which started the oozing.”
Hooray. The doctor had the nurse apply silvadene creme on my arms, covered them with gauze, and wrapped the arms to keep everything stable. I was also given prednisone for the burns, and benadryl for the itching. The itching is by far the worst part, but falling asleep immediately after the benadryl means no work for a day or two.
So there you have it. Once again, my health is a mess, and I am ready to be turned into a cyborg.
On June 6, 2005, a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed dreamer took fingertips to keyboard in an attempt to unleash his biting wit upon the world. A dozen years later, I am still trying to lure in readers with sexy photos of Milana Vayntrub, bile-fueled rants, top-notch sarcasm, and Oxford commas.
The O.K. Corral has not taken off like SYLG did, but I attribute that to the declining popularity of blogs in general, and the fact people were tired of me starting, then quitting blogs. The good news is most of the regulars are still here, and I still receive epic hate mail.
I appreciate you guys sticking around to read my nonsensical rantings, and supporting my when I was off my meds. I’m doing my best to keep you entertained, and plan to continue for as long as I am able.
Sorry about the lack of posts today – or you’re welcome if you hate this blog – but life interfered.
My neighbor Denny – aka Captain America – had his two five-story tall trees taken down. It has been an all-day project, and because of the height of the trees, the electric company left us without power. All day. On my day off.
So no video games, no blogging, and no sharing my sex tapes on YouTube.
In the interim, I did get a few things done. I reorganized the shed, bought new work shoes, and washed my balls. Well, my lacrosse balls. After a while lacrosse balls turn into “greasers” – not Mexicans, the other kind. Dirt, wetness, and the elements make the balls lose their grip, so – like my personal balls – they need to be scrubbed.
Unfortunately, they need to be scrubbed with sandpaper – the lacrosse balls, not my personal balls. It’s a long, painstaking job, but I cleaned two dozen balls in a few hours, so now I don’t have to hear Kyle whining about his shots going awry for a week or two.
I promise tomorrow will be a full plate, and I think I finally have a really good caption contest photo. Time will tell.
When I started blogging, the only real platform available was BlogSpot. BlogSpot was great for its time, and I spent three years there boring people and posting pics of fabulous babes.
Then, on this day in 2008, my friend Jim purchased a domain name at WordPress, and blogging history was made.
I only know this is the day I began on WordPress because they sent me a keen little notification. My official start at SYLG on Blogger was June 6, 2005, and my first post here was October 30, 2015. Since I’m getting older, and my feeble brain is failing me, I need posts to remind me when a milestone pops up.
So, I’m reminded.
Well it’s been a full ten weeks since I had a serious health issue, and lord knows I was more than do for something awful.
That something awful is cellulitis. Again.
I woke up at 4am with searing pain on my left thigh, and it was bad enough that I couldn’t get back to sleep. I am working the day shift today, and even though Mrs. Earp said my temperature vacillated between 99 and 100, I sucked it up and went to work.
Yeah, that was a mistake. I feel worse now – the rash always gets more painful as the days go on – and my head has been burning up all day. I was supposed to submit an arrest warrant this morning, and the squad was shorthanded, so I dragged my lazy ass in.
I’ll do my best to keep posting on a regular schedule but as I told the kids, right now “Daddy’s down for the day.”
UPDATE: As of a few minutes ago, my temperature was 101.5. Hooray.
In its continuing effort to keep its websites free, the people at WordPress place advertisements on their hosted blogs. The ads are only a minor inconvenience, mostly because the author cannot see them when he or she is logged in. The ads are only visible to the readers. Which brings me to my point.
Apparently readers have been seeing advertisements for Hillary Clinton’s presidential campaign here on the blog, and are upset because their faces keep melting.
For the record, I have no control over the content of the WordPress ads, and obviously, I do not necessarily agree with their subject matter. (Unless, of course, it is an ad for Brooklyn Decker’s fine milk-fed cans.)
I would rather pluck out my own eyes before voting for Hillary Clinton. I would rather have sex with Representative Rosa DeLauro than vote for Hillary Clinton. I would rather crush my private parts with a hydraulic press than vote for Hillary Clinton.
So yes, I apologize for the Hillary ads, but neither I, nor this blog, would ever endorse that lying, ham-cankled manatee. F**k her and everybody who looks like her.
Today begins the department’s DNC detail. Twelve-hour days and canceled days off until July 28th. Posting will continue at its normal rate, but since my work days now end at 6am, I will be sleeping most of the day.
Obviously I will not be able to respond to comments in a timely fashion, so if you don’t see me on the blog, it’s not because you have B.O. It means I’ll be trying to sleep in a house full of sugared-up kids.
I’ll catch up on the blog conversations in the evenings. Wish me luck.
Well, two months after my abdominal surgery, my – hopefully final – follow-up with the surgeon is scheduled for this morning. The doc will poke and prod me – not in a good way – check me for any lingering pain and examine my scarring. It should be the last step before fully clearing me for all activities.
Hear that, Vica? I’m ready for some hot, sweaty adult sleepover action!
I’ll be more than ready to get past this unseemly ordeal – the surgery, not boinking Vica Kerekes – and back to my every day grind.
Speaking of grinds, I received my orders for the Democratic National Convention. As of this posting, I am assigned to my division, and starting Friday, my days off are canceled, I will be working 12-hour shifts through July 28th. With the canceled days off, I will be working for eleven straight days. Hooray.
I assume I am staying in the division because of my surgery, which is completely fine by me. I had no desire to have bottles thrown at me while protecting politicians who hate my guts.
Of course, the orders are subject to change – they have changed three times since Monday – but as of now, I’ll be dealing with the normal, everyday violence, and not the imported political violence.
Although I am on a well-deserved vacation, I feel it is my responsibility to put up some
drek interesting, informative posts to entertain you rubes good people.
The problem with living in Pennsylvania, but posting in Arizona is I can never keep my time zones straight. There is also the inconvenience of waking up while the east coast is already enjoying their
three martini sack lunches.
After talking to Kevin and Kari about this, they
demanded mentioned it is difficult to participate in the Weekend Caption Contests because by time they are up and on the computer, the good entries are snatched up.
After posting in Flagstaff and Tucson for five days, I realize they have a valid point. So, I am officially moving my post times forward to
pander to accommodate my western readers. Instead of 7am Eastern posts, you’ll see 10am Eastern posts, and forward from there. Hopefully, this will keep the blog slightly more current for everyone, and allow more interactive bitching commenting.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled breakfast/brunch/lunch.