Of broken bones and broken promises...

Also known as: "I'm a reasonable man, get off my case."

Well, I'm back. Kind of. Let's just say it's been a busy week. One of those busy weeks that really shakes up the status quo. A week that literally kept me from blogging anything. Where to start? Well, first off, my air conditioning is definitely fixed. That's the good news. Of course, that feels like a month ago already. Which leads me to...

The bad news. Well. I've been spending a lot of time in St. Vincent's Hospital over the past week. I wasn't the one in there, though. Backing up and starting my story from the beginning, my parents drove up last weekend to help me finish painting my garage. They were also here to check out the last few condos I had visited, to help me decide which one I'd be buying. To make a long story short, my mom fell off a ladder about three minutes after we started painting the garage, fracturing the tibia and fibula of her right leg. This led to eight hours in the emergency room and six days in the hospital, including surgery that lasted three hours on Monday night. And guess who was expected to be visiting at the hospital pretty much every waking moment (including lunch breaks) if he wasn't at work? Yes, the guy on the major league guilt trip. Some would say deservedly so, considering she was helping paint my house and all. I still think them describing me to the orthopedic surgeon as "The Culprit" was a bit uncalled for, though. Either way, my garage remains unpainted and the condos remain unvisited. I did get six days of my dad staying at the house, which involved him tossing his dirty dishes in my sink and then complaining about how I need to clean up my kitchen because it's cluttered. As you can guess, he's in upper management at his workplace. Shocking, I know.

So, now that I finally have my own house to myself, I'm realizing that the list of jobs that were going to be completed last weekend is kind of sitting right where it was this time last week. Garage isn't painted (save for a few feet completed before the big fall), driveway still needs to be pressure washed, still some weeding and mulching to be done and still more boxes to be packed up and moved elsewhere. So really, I've got a shitload left to do around here. Not good. But it did bring me to a realization -- I'm not ready to move just yet. I need to sell the house before I go anywhere, and considering the interest rates right now, I might as well wait until it sells. So, as much as I'd like to pack up and go and let it sit on the market, that's just not happening this summer. Oh well. Better to realize it now than once I'm in a contract somewhere else and paying for two mortgages and considering the cost of shotguns and seven-day waiting periods, right?

Now, there was a benefit to all the time spent in the hospital. Since there was nothing else to do there except watch TV since my family isn't much for casual conversation and all, I discovered the joy of cable. Well, one show in particular. I have determined that this and another show which I'll be writing about soon enough (yes, another broken promise, call me on it in a few weeks) will make me break down and give the inevitable call to Comcast. What is this show, you might ask?

Dog The Bounty Hunter.

I know, I know, I know, I know. I should hate this show with every fiber of my being. But I just can't. Maybe it's from years of my dad watching Cops; I guess I've somehow absorbed that love of scum of the earth being chased down and tackled. Who knows? Whatever it is, this show is 500,000 times better than Cops. It's like Cops if the police were all white trash who called everyone "brah" and shined bright lights while screaming at anyone within a 25-yard radius of the criminal. It's amazing stuff. They even bring Dog's wife along, an immense woman whose head could fit inside either one of her breasts easily. The best part is she picks fights with the criminal's wife/girlfriend/baby's mama/whatever, then gets her sons to step in between them to tell the irate crackhead woman that their mom has no beef with her, they're just collecting a bounty. I swear to you, this is the second show going on my Tivo season pass after the aforementioned "Show Maki Will Blog About At A Later Date.™™"

It's a good thing I don't have cable already. I might not do anything else but watch this crap. It's like having a bag of "fun size" Snickers left over after Halloween. You know you should bring it in to work or just throw it away or do something to get rid of it, but instead you keep eating them, knowing how many calories and fat are in them. But you don't care because they taste too damn good and you're enjoying eating them too much. Dog The Bounty Hunter is that bag of Snickers for me. Awesome stuff. I don't miss the brain cells at all.

Oh yeah, the new Thom Yorke disc is really good, despite the fact that the man should probably be force-fed Xanax at this point. Ah, who am I kidding? He's probably more well-adjusted than me. He could definitely afford to buy a condo and keep the house. And hire people to paint his garage. Ones who know how to properly use ladders. I'll give him that much.