It's been a week alright!

Let's see where do I start. On Monday, I sliced my tongue on a candy coated peanut. And I'm schtill tawking funny...not to mention eating and drinking. My word, that hurt, and it's still is not totally healed. I have sliced the ole wagger a few times by licking envelopes...not the whole envelope you arses...just the tasty gluey part of it...but you knew that. It's kind of strange when your tongue is sore, you keep rolling it around your mouth all the live long day, until it drives you batshit. You can't put a bandage on it to keep it safe from, let's say... food! You can't stick it out as you normally do at jerk face drivers on the way to work, because it starts to tingle the minute air reaches it. I think the tongue has long been overlooked in wellness. It got me to thinking, yes I do that once in awhile, what if something happened to our tongues? I have gone through a trillion scenarios of what if's with all the other parts of my body, but I forgot about this one VERY important part.

How would you eat?

How would you talk?

How would you drink wine?

How would you give tongue?


Is there a prosthetic type tongue they could attach if you lost yours? Like dentures if you lost your teeth, or fake legs if you lost them? What would they attach it to? The little flabby part in the back of your mouth that makes you gag??


I'm doing some deep thinking here folks, I don't want to loose my tongue..ever. So, I haven't even googled "tongue"...because I don't want to know about tongue disease. Or split tongue in my case. Snakes have split tongues don't they... Why shouldn't I.


I bought a electric fireplace for my office at home on Tuesday. It's a pretty little thing. Well, not as little as I thought it was.


I have been at Home Depot 584 times since Christmas to see if this thing was going to go on sale. Last Tuesday...it did. I said to the "associate"...load her up man..I got my truck parked by the front door! The pimply faced youngster put it in a cart, we went through the check out, and then brought it to my truck and threw it in the back of my Explorer.

When I had been at the store the previous 583 times, I tried lifting the fireplace a few times and found it suprisingly light. I had convinced myself that I could very easily carry it into my house myself after I got it home. The box it came in looked surprisingly big as compared to the fireplace on the show room floor, but I was undeterred. I was in mission mode.


When I got home, I wisely backed the Explorer into the driveway. I was in my preparedness mode. I backed up a little too close to the garage, but I only nicked it. Driving backwards is not something I do well . Then I pulled forward, and all was good. I left enough room to get the hatch open to get the fireplace box out. I wanted to be close enough to the stairs leading to the front door without having to worry about dragging that bastard in the house and be tripping all over shit.


Well, hell's bells...I parked way to close to the garage and couldn't even get it out of the truck. So I moved it forward once more. Went back again, opened the hatch, and finally pulled her out gently. No problem, the box was in the snow on the driveway. Piece of cake....now I could just slide her to the front steps. And I did.

Can you tell, I wanted no help with this at all. No, it was supposed to be a surprise for Gord, who told me not to buy it. That's the way I roll. If I buy it, I buy it...and do all the heavy lifting, don't fuck with me.


Okay, now I had to get her up 4 icy steps. Ice was my friend, she slipped up them like a greased monkey. Now we were at the front door. Challenging times. Because there was another step up, getting it into the house, plus 8 steps up to my office where her home would be. I was not in the least deterred, because until this point I had no idea how heavy it really was.

When I finally had to lift it up to get through the door, I realized, hey..maybe I should have asked someone with a muscle to help.


I huffed and puffed and got the box in the front landing. I scared the dog with the big box, so I had calm her down...after catching my breath for a moment I continued. I tried to push that huge box up the stairs to my office, but God came to rescue...and said...if you do shit like this one more time...I'm going to take a kidney...so I backed off.


I sat downstairs with the box for awhile and devised a plan. I took the fireplace out of the box to see if it could be taken upstairs in a more reasonable fashion. When I unpacked it, it had two handles on top...yesssss, for grip, so I thought I could use that to push it up the stairs. Not so. It helped in a way, but after I got to the third stair it became unbalanced, so I just pushed my leg against it and kept of lifting to the next stair... and the next one... and the one after that. I huffed and puffed, and kept on pushing until my eyes started to bulge and fell out of my head, then rolled down the stairs...plunk plunk deplunk. Penny retrieved them. Thats what dogs do.


Well, after all this effort it did not look as good as I thought it would in my office. I put it here...than I put it there...then I put it everywhere. Finally I found the sweet spot. Then it didn't look right there either..then I put it over yonder, to ponder.

The picture does not do it much justice because the camera didn't pick it up the flames. It has a mirror behind it and it picked up my lamp and shit.. I will take a picture during the day and it should give anyone who gives a hairy rats ass what it looks like have a gander.

I was making some pizza buns tonite. I poured some olive oil in a small dish with some fresh garlic in it to give it flavour. I kept smelling it over and over to see if the garlic had gelled with the olive oil... and I guess I got my nose a little close to the dish...and my nose still stinks like garlic. I can't wipe if off...I stink, a good stink, but I still stink stanky.
And I have a very shiny nose.

Rudolf... I can relate bud. Give Santa and all those Elvises my regards.