(But That Some people Apparently DO NOT know)

Insulting somebody is not an effective way to persuade someone to do a favor for you.  i.e. Calling someone a "wimp" when they say that they do not want to march in the 4th of July parade will not change their mind.

Ehhh ... that's all I've got today.  Sorry.  Hopefully I'll have more to post this month than last month.

I got beaned in the nose by a softball today, and for a split second I thought my nose was broken.  It's been quite a while since I've posted a gross-out story, so allow me to indulge my nastier side.

I was at 3rd base, and was thinking, "if it's on the ground: run home; if it's in the air: hold up."  Kent came up to bat and hit it straight down the 3rd base line.  It was on the ground, so I started running.  I got maybe a step or two when it took an amazing bounce, right into my face.  It smashed into my sunglasses, and I was glad I put them on.  It didn't really hurt, rather, my whole face felt numb.  I put my hand up to my nose: it was still pointed in the right direction and wasn't bleeding, so I ran home. I was careful to step on the base before heading towards the sidelines.

I took my hand away from my face, and saw the facial expressions of the people around me change.  "Is my nose bleeding?" I asked, even as I looked down at my hand and saw blood.  It was right about then, as I was walking towards Dave (who I knew would have the first aid kit) that I felt the blood welling up inside.  I pressed my hand against the sides of my nose, to stop it from spilling out.  I felt a tiny crunchy crackling sensation on the right side, and started to panic just a little bit. I was scared to breath through my nose, and so began to breath through my mouth.  I realized that I was breathing very quickly, and then I concentrated on the fact that I WAS breathing and so I would be okay, until my breathing slowed to normal.

The blood poured out when I released my nose in order to get a gauze pad in place. Dave also fished out a cold pack for me to hold over the bridge of my nose (per Abby's advice).  I spent the rest of the game sitting on the sidelines , squeezing my nose with one hand and icing my nose and forehead with the other. I leaned slightly forward to keep the blood from sliding down the back of my throat.  Once I sat upright, and felt a clump of something making it's way down my sinuses and into my mouth.  I spit out a big clot of mostly blood (with some mucus and saliva thrown into the mix) into the grass. Dave was so grossed out that he actually scooped up some dirt and covered the blob, like a carnie throwing down sawdust to soak up all the vomit from the tilt-a-whirl. It took about 25 minutes for the bleeding to stop.  By then I had soiled 2 large gauze pads, 2 smaller pads, and one of Will's old t-shirts

After the game we walked back to the car, me dabbing at my nose to catch the occasional drop of blood loosened up by the jarring motion.  Back at the car, I used the mirror to see how bad I looked.  My nose was definitely swollen, and there was some dried blood on my upper lip and on the right side of my face.  I tried wiping up the blood on the side of my nose, but it was stubborn and the alcohol from the wet nap I was using actually stung.  On closer inspection, I found that I actually had a scrape on that side of my face.  By now I was breathing through my nose again.  The right side was relatively clear, but the left side felt very congested.

Traffic downtown was slightly more congested than normal because of the Printer's Row Book Fair.  A fat traffic attendant waved at us to stop even though the light was green, and we jerked to a halt.  The jolt loosened something large, and I felt it slide down the back of my throat.  I smelled alcohol as I spit a great gob of congealed blood and mucus into the wet nap.  Now the left side of my nose was finally clear!

Here's a list of things to be happy about:

1. Softball starts tomorrow!
2. Tickets to Pitchfork have arrived!
3. My blood test results were spot-on this month!
4. There's leftover Chinese food in the fridge for lunch!
5. A nice note from my Dad arrived in the mail!
6. Yesterday was payday!
7. I don't have to work today!

Kathleen has already guessed the second commercial that creeped me out, which either means that a) she's psychic b) I'm not the only one who's creeped out by White Castle's foray into pulled pork or c) both a & b. I've seen a lot of comments on teh internets about the bad timing of this commercial to coincide with Swine Flu, but that's not even what disturbs me about this commercial:

What I find disturbing (beside the simple fact that White Castle + pulled pork = wrong, wrong, wrong) is the bestiality/food fetish component.  Are furries the target audience here?  They aren't just selling pork, they're sexualizing it.  The splattering BBQ sauce needs no explanation, nor does the guy who licks it off his finger.  Eww...

[Update:  I thought this was a McDonald's commercial, but thanks to Kathleen for setting me straight - it's a Wendy's commercial.  That makes it all the more funny- this commercial is so awful that I couldn't even remember what it was advertising.]

There are two commercials airing now that really creep me out.  I was all set to post a little thing about each one and include a link to the videos on youtube, but guess what?  Neither one seems to be on youtube.  At least, I can't find them on youtube.  So, I may have to record them myself.  They both air very regularly, so I don't think catching them will be a problem.

The first one is (I think) for McDonalds.  I s'pose it could be for Buger King or Wendy's, since they're practically interchangeable, but I think of it as a McDonald's commercial.  It shows a guy biting into a Big Mac (or quarter pounder, or whopper, or spicy chicken or whatever) at several different stages in his life.  The setting, hairstyles, and wardrobe all change - he goes from a Ridgemont High era locker room to a generic looking "university" frathouse to a generic grunge wannabe to a lamaze class with a pregnant wife, and then in the last shot he's in McDonalds (or wherever) with his wife and kid, and it suddenly looks like all the life has been sucked out of him.  His hair line is receding and he just looks like a shriveled husk who's been beaten down for so long that he's given up on himself.  Meanwhile, the wife looks way hotter than she did before.  It's like she's a succubus, and she's spent the last 5 years sucking away all his life energy.

I even went to the McDonalds' website to see if they had it online, no dice.  Instead, I found this: 365 Black.  Wow. I'm so glad that McDonald's gave Keith Sweat a chancce to share his love for chicken mcnuggets.  There's definitely not one iota of sarcasm on his face.