johnnyhongkong says…

I’m at the computer lab at the Marathon County Library in Wausau, Wisconsin (famous for Wausau Paper that you probably use in your office) while Mary Milan is wedding dress shopping with all of the ladies in her family.

The computer lab is pretty swanky, full of these e-Series Gateways purchased with funds from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.  It’s going to good use too, full of teens checking Facebook, the hotttness on MySpace, other played out social networking sites, IM-ing, and playing online games like Warcraft and others.

There’s a boy playing a mid-80′s BBS-style text game.  He is reading the screen with his face two inches from the screen. 

There is a blonde girl next to me who is looking at what seems like pictures of a young Hmong boy in compromising positions.

Nothing to report on the baby front.  For now, it’s just content to chill, much to the dismay of Mary Milan’s sister.

We did go fishing yesterday and to everyone’s surprise, I caught my first fish, a 15-inch Walleye and then a 16.5 incher.  The rest of my bountiful catch was too small to keep. 

I felt like Jesus. 

We’re off to the farm to harvest maple syrup and be around when Mary Milan becomes an aunt.

Will the baby be Chet River or Faith Rose?

Stay Tuned.

In the meantime, vote for Sanjaya.

So I can’t stand Peyton Manning the football player but Peyton Manning the comedic actor isn’t half bad.

Here’s a skit from this weekend’s Saturday Night Live. I don’t know that there’s anything funnier than Manning sniping little kids from the pocket.

After the nearly three years of our lives together, Mary Milan and I found a new thing in common: we both hate putting new sheets on the bed.

It’s ungainly and ungraceful.  Our sheets never seem to fit properly without the tiresome battle of pulling and tugging at the corners to coax them over.  This causes the bed frame to slip and slide, crashing into our bedside drawers which we are invariably too lazy to move.  And to say nothing of the whole rigamarole of flipping the mattress (it’s stupid, in case you’re wondering).

And while clean sheets are nice, the jury is out as to whether or not its worth the struggle for us.  As Ms. Milan says, “I don’t know of another thing that is so frought with the potential of disaster.”

An explanation on the light posting: after my brief burst of Chris Rock related posts, cinetrix and ‘Fesser came to town.  Of course we made a trip to Lou and then shortly thereafter, my G.I blues returned.

The results of my biopsy came back last week and it turns out that I have a bacterial infection in my gut called H. Pylori.

The doctor is unsure if this or the hiatal hernia is causing my vomitting spells but since H. Pylori is linked to gastritis, peptic ulcer, and stomach cancer, it’s probably best to get rid of the motherfuckers.  He prescribed a two week course of Prevpak, a combination treatment of Prevacid, Biaxin, and Amoxicillin.

This Prevpak crap cost $180 (insurance only picked up $150 of the total cost) and it is a combination of the three drugs only in that they come in twice daily blister packs (presumably the “pak” part of the name).

So over the past three days, I’ve been on a total 3,000 mg of antibiotics and 100 mg of antacids each day.

3,000 mg!

When I had pneumonia a few years ago, I was only on 1,000 mg of amoxicillin a day and my pneumonia, as Conrad Connecticut will attest to, was pretty bad.

The funny thing is that it’s actually making me feel worse.  I’m lethargic, it gives me heartburn and I’ve only started to be able to keep food in.  Of course these are all the listed side effects but I think I’m getting a pretty bad case.

All these antibiotics better kill those little bastards in my tummy because this sucks ass.  There apparently is some debate as to whether or not H. Pylori needs to be treated.  I wish I had known this before I plunked down the $180 for the prescription.

Only 10 more days.  Only 10 more days.

Of course, as fate would have it, I find myself working on a spec script for one of the million medical shows on TV (the one with the acerbic doctor).  Unfortunately, H. Pylori is not dramatic but hemorrhagic fever is, especially as a Macguffin.

As a follow up to the last post, I caught Chris Rock on “Inside the Actor’s Studio,” where James Litpon confesses to his unabashed love of Pootie Tang.

Though I don’t believe a word Lipton says, it still had me in stitches when he said it in his ultra-serious, theatrical presentation.

Unfortunately, this video has nothing to do with P.T. Rather, it’s just Chris Rock’s opening monologue from this weekend’s SNL.

In Stephanie Zacharek’s review of Chris Rock’s I Think I Love My Wife, a remake of Rohmer’s Chloe in the Afternoon, she calls Pootie Tang an -

“Urban-Dada Masterpiece”

Pootie says, “I’mona to sine your pitty on the runny kine!”