Neanderpundit

My old Ryobi ate its final shitburger this afternoon while hanging new sheet rock. It was the industrial grade, bad MF that took ten+ years of my abuse. Dropped more than Billy Blastoff and abused like a rented mule.

RIP ol’ friend.

With that said, Popular Mechanics did a review on Lithium drills and in taking their advice, I bought the winner. What can I say about my new friend? This sucker has enough torque to snap a lugnut off a wheel.

My god, I thought Billy Mays sucked.

Vince Offer (was there ever a more apt name?) has dethroned Billy as the most annoying TV huckster ever.

And what’s with the microphone? Has he not heard that they have decent microphones on TV?

Anyway, I just had to get that off my chest, and onto yours. He’s a former scientologist– which should give you a little clue about scientology. When Vince Offer says “hey, this looks bogus” you gotta wonder.

You know, the kind of beating that you get in a bar after standing on a barstool and call everyone in the bar a cousin fucking booger eating union liberal obama voter? You know, the beating where you push a handful of fuckers into the women’s crapper and then kick the doorknob off it so they’re stuck in there? And when they come out they take turns holding you and beating you with the pieces of the door? The one where the cops show up and you’re on the ground bleeding while six big fuckers stand and kick you, and the cop shoots one of them and takes them all to lockup and calls an ambulance for you, even though you instigated the whole shebang? Where the hospital sews you up and sends you home with a half dozen icebags ace-bandaged to various parts of your body? The morning after THAT beating?

yeah. When I was 18, or 25, or even 40, I could wake up the morning after that beating, and smile, drooling a little blood, and groan, and go about my day. And in two, three days I was fine again.

For the last two months I’ve woken up feeling like the day after that beating every fucking day. And it ain’t got any better. Leading me to ask, WTF? So I had a bucketload of blood tests friday morning, hopefully I’m just an old fuck getting older, and I just have to accustom myself to the new pain levels.

I am a bit surprised they left me any blood, the number of vials of the shit they took.

And I pissed all over myself before I realized the instructions they gave me for providing a “Clean” sample were the “female” ones. I couldn’t figure out why they wanted me to wipe first.