“H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A — Fo’ shizzle my nizzle, used to dribble down in VA.”

This is not the song I woke up with today.

It was, however, played on NPR today during Terri Gross’s interview with Jay-Z.

So, on behalf of all the embarrassed white kids who didn’t know what the hell this song meant, but liked it anyway:

Thank you, Terri Gross.

“Izzo (H.O.V.A.)



The Blueprint

Staph, sepsis, and a death balloon attached to my liver

The “hurt now or later” question: I think I answered “later” to this question today, except I was dealing with whether or not I wanted to be in the hospital.

This morning, I went in to drink a bunch of contrast dye (which is actually pretty tasteless now; thank you technology). I got an IV dose of more contrast dye, which makes my throat feels all warm and fuzzy, and I was then exposed to some more radiation, which is always cool. I picked up copies of my imaging records, dropped by my office for about half an hour, and then saw my GP.

Doctor takes a look at me and asks me a couple questions, at which point I figured out he’d been able to see my CT results.

So much for referred pain.

Your gallbladder, if you have one, is shoved up next to a lot of other important organs — as is usually the case with anything in the abdomen, which is why you should usually avoid getting shanked in prison. When your gallbladder decides it wants to get huge and develop a rabid infection that would make a zombie blush, it gets pretty touchy-feely with its neighbors: the pancreas, the stomach, and its favorite, the liver. Do you remember that really clingy boyfriend you had or that aggressively flirtatious drunk girl at that party? That is what the gallbladder is to the liver.

It's a thorax!

So, my gallbladder was a dick. We’ve been over that already. However, my gallbladder was, apparently, the kind of dick that’s so miserable it just had to make everyone else miserable. The bad apple that ruins the bunch, basically.

When he was pulling bits and pieces of my insides through an incision in my navel, my surgeon noticed that there had been some slight damage to my liver due to the acute cholecystitis he was treating by removing my gallbladder. This isn’t unusual. Most people with collateral damage from a kamikaze gallbladder are pretty much okay after everything’s said and done.


Aaaapparently, this is one of those times when I’m not in the “most” category. The inflammation of my gallbladder literally rubbed my liver the wrong way.

Imagine NASA built a tiny little spaceship (about the size of a Port-a-Potty), and they sent you into space with some fat kid with extremely poor manners and a very low IQ — he also happens to enjoy tumbling down hills covered in poison ivy. Lucky for him, he doesn’t have an allergic reaction to the oil on the leaves — or if he does, he  just doesn’t give a shit. Due to the size of your craft and NASA’s tight spacesuit budget, you and Augustus Gloop — who we already know is just a all-around mind-numbing irritating kid — are in constant skin-to-skin contact.


"I'm going to make your life horrible!!!"

Guess who’s not a fat inconsiderate little jerk, but who is going to break out in a horrible itchy rash? Oh, but you happen to go into anaphylactic shock. Problem is, Augustus decides he’s going to go explore space in his underwear, so while he’s freezing and boiling at the same time outside your window, you’re desperately trying to reach mission control as your airway closes up on you.

I wish I could remember who drew this.

This is what happened. My liver was irritated by my swollen gallbladder. My gallbladder was full of really horrible bacteria. Horrible bacteria were overcrowding the gallbladder, so they decided to spread out, taking the path of least resistance.

So, I have a hepatic abscess. There’s a balloon of bacteria — probably either E. coli or staph — attached to my liver. It is just small enough where it might be treatable with rest and constantly eating antibiotics. It is just large enough that it could burst and make me go into sepsis.

Numbers on hepatic abscesses with treatment aren’t entirely within my comfort zone, but I keep having Mark remind me why those are all shit. My doctor is letting me take antibiotics and stay on bed rest at home. If I get so much as a stubbed toe, though, I’m off to the hospital. Since I was on a round of antibiotics already for the respiratory infection I had when I left the hospital, I’m not going to start lifting weights and running marathons this week.

I’m not quite sure how I’m taking this, because I think I went “bargaining, anger, depression, denial,” and it’s supposed to go “denial, bargaining, anger, depression.” Since 2, 3, 4, 1 isn’t the same as 1, 2, 3, 4… yeah, I don’t know where I’m going with this.

I will get back to posting music. I’m just not going to make any more promises on a time line for the next week. Bear with me if you can.


Okay, I’m going to go insane if I can’t identify this song

I may be on the wrong track, here, but:

There is a piano piece that sounds EXACTLY like something Thomas Newman (Road to Perdition, Pay It Forward, Finding Nemo, American Beauty…) would have composed — but I’m not 100% sure if it is actually his work, and no matter how I match the chord progressions, I can’t find the name of this piece anywhere.

It’s been featured in probably a million shows (Mark says House is one), but when we were flipping through the channels, it just so happened that it popped up on On the Road with Austin and Santino. I’m sorry?

Skip to 14:55 and I will love you forever. I wasn’t forced into any commercials, FWIW.

On the Road with Austin and Santino, Episode 4, “Brickfest Beauties”

For inspiration, this is one of the most beautiful modern movie compositions in existence.

If the only movie/TV composers alive were Thomas Newman, Michael Nyman, and Danny Elfman, I am pretty sure I’d be okay with that. Fuck John Williams, though. He and his lawyers are dicks. I’ve been holding this grudge against him since high school, and everyone who was in marching band with me knows why.

If I could revive Henry Mancini just for “Moon River”, though, I would. Zombie or not.

Oh, entirely unrelated: I don’t truly hate a lot of things, but I hate Nancy Grace. There are a couple words, despite all my cursing, that I do not use lightly. There’s one word in particular I wouldn’t even use for Sarah Palin — but Nancy Grace and Ann Coulter… in private company, I have used this word to describe those two. Only in private company. The following link is to a Mixed Martial Arts bulletin board, and I’m only linking you here because I happen to agree with the title of this thread and the first comment, and if my mom reads this and clicks that link: I apologize for my behavior, Mom.

Also, distantly related: have I ever mentioned that I giggle like an idiot whenever anyone says anything completely innocuous that could be construed as even remotely sexual? How It’s Made is so perfect for this. Mark thinks I’m an idiot. I agree. I’m ten.

WikipediaWictionaryChambers (UK)Google imagesGoogle defineThe Free DictionaryJoin exampleWordNetGoogleUrban DictionaryAnswers.comrhymezone.comMerriam-Webster


Finally caught up on songs from my hospital vacation. They’re posted under the appropriate date (starting August 26th) — quick links also via my Twitter feed.

suck it, gallbladder

“if you could see me (whoever I am) — it’s not like the movies, it’s not all skin and bones.”

Walking the Dog



Aim and Ignite

So, obviously I failed at this blog, but apparently some people were reading it (I only know this for sure because I got yelled at), so I’m going to try to keep up with WordPress for a while until I get my tumblr account up and running. While WordPress is wonderful, I figured tumblr probably made more sense for the kind of posts I make.

AAANYWAY. I’m not dead or anything — that’s my point, I guess.


Just in case you’ve been missing my catch-up blogathon, these are the days/songs I added:

July 5, 2010: Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody

July 6, 2010: La Roux – Bulletproof

July 7, 2010: B.o.B. ft. Hayley Williams of Paramore – Airplanes

July 8, 2010: The Hood Internet – Single Foxes (Put A Wood On It)

July 9, 2010: Gnarls Barkley – Crazy

July 10, 2010: Scrabbleggs – Bang Bang!

July 11, 2010: Soul Cannon – Phrases

July 12, 2010: Mastgrr – Cooking by the Book (A Lil’ Bigger Mix)

July 13, 2010: The Weepies – Be My Thrill

July 14, 2010: Bon Iver – Blood Bank

Hopefully that has taught me not to suck at blogging anymore.

And with that, I present Mystery Kanye!

click for kanye

By the way, I procrastinate.

Workload has been insane, body has been ill, but check out how fast I’m about to get this shit up to speed!

Updating July 5-13 with timestamps at 0:00 — regular programming should resume this evening!