Tuesday, January 10, 2012

A bag of shit tricks

There's a magic item in D&D called a "Bag of Tricks". I think you pull animals out of it, pokemon style, and throw them down where they expand then fight for you.

Anyway, I wanted a clever post title for a random series of grumps so I chose that with the grumps being the tricks pulled forth.

I've spent two days looming around the house. I can't walk anywhere, leg not strong enough for walks to the shops and back, and even though my left leg was the one operated on and both our cars are automatic, thus not needing the left leg to drive with, I cannot legally drive. Which is why I am off work.

I should be spending this Summer of George more productively. Writing for example, perhaps even completing or re-tooling one of my many word projects. Except sitting at the computer is a bit of a pain (1). That and my guts have flared and I've spent several attempts at defecation in an effort to move things along. Sometimes successful but always painful, with severe abdominal spasms after every visit to the small white room.

So for the most part I've spent my time watching TV repeats. Episodes of 30 Rock for the most part though other things as well. As a member of a couple that watch a lot of TV there are some new shows I am not allowed to watch ahead of theWife. The last time I made that mistake was with Mad Men. But repeats, war stuff like Generation Kill, or shows she's deemed un-Wifeable (2) like Mr Show then I can knock myself out.

So there's that or lying on the couch or bed and using my Beloved to go on wiki-jaunts or current affairs perusing such as following the latest madness of the Republican primary process in the US. Doing that and moaning or farting lots because of my IBS afflicted state.

Speaking of the latter, the other night I gave myself a Dutch oven. I had unleashed hell deep into the bounds of the bed clothes when I was forced to re-jig the sheets' arrangement. This created a funnel between my feet and up my body and out through the top ... where my head was. The full impact of my nasty nearly choked me as it escaped the confines like a ghost out of the ark.

Today I raided the off cuts of shortcrust pasty that were in the freezer. About half of it was in a neatly rolled up half-sheet. The rest was in a sausage of squeezed together bits. The former air-defrosted within half an hour. The latter remained a frozen sausage. So I nuked it, foolishly selecting 40 seconds. It ended up a sticky horrid mess, like home-made glue of flour and water when it's too liquidy. I could have spread it out like pizza dough and sprinkled toppings of ham and cheese upon it but even I baulked at that attempted reclamation.

I'm growing as a person!

(1) Though yesterday I did spend an hour or so playing Freecell and listening to Marc Maron podcasts. However that's monging out not active creating. Big difference.   
(2) It's not that they're bad shows ... it's just they don't grab her enough to want to watch them during couple tv time. 

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