tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71008732677499537662024-03-14T14:41:31.467-04:00Zuerk OneRandom Thoughts Worth Writing Down (Maybe)ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-18712337060152959882011-06-07T21:28:00.005-04:002013-09-04T15:03:35.737-04:00Addiction Advice from a Drug Pusher<br />
<div>
It started out never eating sugar cereals.</div>
<div>
Corn Flakes and Rice Krispies</div>
<div>
Corn Flakes and Rice Krispies</div>
<div>
Oh how I wanted to eat those Fruit Loops and Lucky Charms</div>
<div>
Randy always had sugar cereals at his house.</div>
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Now that I'm older I can eat whatever I want.</div>
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Except I don't feel so good after eating three bowls of Captain Crunch</div>
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before I go to bed. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Out of college into management training.</div>
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Coffee and donuts every morning.</div>
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Cookies and pop every afternoon.</div>
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My brand new suit was getting smaller and smaller.</div>
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I felt like the Hulk breaking out of my clothes.</div>
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I wonder if I will ever see that weight again.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Zak was a cute baby. </div>
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He was cute and liked to cry. Especially before my bed time.</div>
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Inconsolable I would strap him in his car seat and go for a drive.</div>
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Why we ended up at Taco Bell at midnight I do not know. </div>
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It seemed like the right thing to do except I did not feel so good when I finally got back to bed.</div>
<div>
Zak would sleep while I lay awake. Apparently a 32 oz. Coca Cola has trace amounts of caffeine.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
My wife found the Cheeto wrappers under the seat of the car.</div>
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I didn't really think I had a problem until she counted fourteen empty orange bags.</div>
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Or maybe it was the orange dust under my finger nails.</div>
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I confessed my weakness and asked for accountability and a wet wipe to clean my fingers.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Larry pushed the salted caramels my way.</div>
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"Only one", I said, "they are addictive".</div>
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(I should know because I ate half a bag at Christmas.)</div>
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"Salted caramels are very addictive I told Larry.</div>
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"Only if you allow it", Larry said.</div>
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"Only if you allow it".</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span">I would like to thank Larry at Costco for showing me that the salted caramels d0 not have power over me but rather I have power over the salted caramels. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. His grace is sufficient for me. Help me Jesus.</span></i></div>
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ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-41477425092119680422011-04-28T22:47:00.002-04:002011-04-28T22:55:46.902-04:00Fireside Chat<a href="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT-9KOBAr6IHqnoOUcAr_rLuCYnLOmgkDCrIKIiD520Xdc-xp5Znw" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 185px; height: 273px;" src="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT-9KOBAr6IHqnoOUcAr_rLuCYnLOmgkDCrIKIiD520Xdc-xp5Znw" border="0" alt="" /></a><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I will plant this seedling right into the ground.</div><div><div>Think about how you created the trees and every living thing</div><div>Sift this dirt between my fingers, this dirt from whence I came</div><div>I will sit on this hallowed ground of mine</div><div>and wait and listen for you to speak.</div><div><br /></div><div>I will set my chair under these branches in this shade.</div><div>Feel your breath blowing across my face</div><div>Hear the birds breaking out in worship</div><div>I will sip my lemonade</div><div>and wait and listen for you to speak.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I will rake these leaves of orange and yellow</div><div>Make a pile deep and wide.</div><div>I will run and jump and scatter them far</div><div>I will lie on this mattress of the fallen, sun on my face</div><div>and wait and listen for you to speak.</div><div><br /></div><div>I will fire up this chain saw of smoke and fury</div><div>Raise up this maul and chop this wood</div><div>I will stack these logs 4 X 4 X 8</div><div>Sit on this stump and rest </div><div>and wait and listen for you to speak</div><div><br /></div>I think I'll throw another log on the fire<div>Sit here with you and warm myself</div><div>Sip my coffee, smoky and dark</div><div>Think about life and think about death</div><div>And I will wait and listen for you to speak.</div></div>ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-87754282924013945782011-04-22T21:22:00.000-04:002011-04-22T21:22:26.816-04:00Martyn Joseph - Lonely Like America<iframe width="480" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/S4BnTYv8TsY?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-11210957437697381032011-04-08T22:32:00.003-04:002011-04-08T22:57:49.244-04:00Moon<a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3180/2671118436_65f75dffd4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3180/2671118436_65f75dffd4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We ran these fields from sun up to sun down<div>We played hard and played long</div><div>Time was of no consequence, it never ran out</div><div><br /></div><div>They called you Moon</div><div>but you were Shooting Star</div><div>Buried under the shade of the willow </div><div>Your story ran out of ink</div><div><br /></div><div>We played baseball on the ancient diamond</div><div>Basketball in the dusty gym</div><div>Football between the pines</div><div><br /></div><div>They called you Moon</div><div>but you were Shooting Star</div><div>Buried under the shade of the willow</div><div>Your story ran out of ink</div><div><br /></div><div>You went left and I went right</div><div>Our stories on separate shelfs</div><div>I hope we end up in the same book.</div><div><br /></div><div>They called you Moon</div><div>but you were Shooting Star</div><div>Buried under the shade of the weeping willow</div><div>Your story ran out of ink</div></div>ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-78068036503116986882010-09-28T22:04:00.005-04:002010-10-28T19:16:03.150-04:00Street People 2<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTKwdne2Huw6iXS_C-iod6FxsEnUKE5A_MjLft_MQFUuXxVZPc&t=1&usg=__szit3bD-k_SGNnHQkufya-XnZi0="><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTKwdne2Huw6iXS_C-iod6FxsEnUKE5A_MjLft_MQFUuXxVZPc&t=1&usg=__szit3bD-k_SGNnHQkufya-XnZi0=" border="0" alt="" /></a>I went to the Shell station to buy some gum.<br /><div>Larry asks for 40 cents to take a shower.<br />I sense he is telling the truth while I'm explaining I don't hand out cash.<br />I said I would buy him a sandwich.<br />With reluctance he accepts and asks for chips and a pop.</div><div><br /><div>Shelly wanted $1.00 for some food.<br />She was homeless, jobless, hungry and pregnant.<br />I didn't doubt it...at least most of it.<br />In typical fashion I counter with food.<br />I said I would buy her a sandwich.<br />We crossed the street to Quizno's and she realized I would really buy her a sandwich. She wanted to make sure I wouldn't settle with giving her cash. I was good, I would buy the sandwich. She cussed at me and walked away. I guess she wasn't hungry.</div></div>ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-26464464729693126362009-07-23T21:54:00.004-04:002010-10-05T22:06:26.673-04:00Street People<a href="http://www.photographyblog.com/images/photo_of_the_week/28030405/Homeless%20Dinner.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://www.photographyblog.com/images/photo_of_the_week/28030405/Homeless%20Dinner.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Carl sits in a lawn chair in front of the pawn shop<br />He sips choclate milk and scratches off lottery tickets<br />I think he supports his choclate milk habit with his lottery winnings<br />He told me a dirty joke once, I think, but I couldn't comprehend him<br />I'm not sure of his job description but his cherry cigars smell nice<br /><br />Jimmy asks for money and I say no but I will buy him some food<br />We go to get hotdogs, chips and pop at the gas station<br />He tells me about his sister in West Virginia who has money<br />I guess he is planning a trip to visit her and drink beers<br />I'm fairly certain he made up this story<br /><br />Shaky Jake wants a $1 for bus fair, I say no but counter with a sandwich<br />Ham and swiss but no mustard. It's too spicy.<br />A bottle of Coke but no chips because they are not healthy.<br />I wonder how he feels about alcohol.<br /><br />Preacher man stands at the corner telling everyone they are adulterers and whore mongers.<br />A monger is someone who promotes something that is undesirable.<br />I'm sure most people think he is irritating. I do.<br />It seems to me his promotion of the gospel is undesirable.<br />I think next time I see him I'll tell him that Jesus love's him.<br /><br />I gave a guy money once for bus fare<br />He was going to Cleveland to see his sick mother<br />I think she was dying but I'm fairly certain he made up this story<br />My guess is I financed his illicit drug use<br />From now on it's hot dogs, chips, pop and an occasional espresso.<br /><em></em><em></em><br /><em>"Paralytics, lunatics and the back-street fringes<br />All find a place in Your home, at Your table<br />And You make them well 'cos You're willing and able"</em><br /><em></em><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">from the song "Who Knows When the Sunrise Will Be" by Bill Mallonee (</span><a href="http://www.billmallonee.net/"><span style="font-size:85%;">www.billmallonee.net</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">)<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Jesus said the poor we'll always have with us. </span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">I hope to break bread with Carl, Jimmy and Shaky Jake<br />Preacher man can come too<br /><br /></span>ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-75665627875704725102009-07-16T22:11:00.004-04:002009-07-16T22:27:07.531-04:00Greco-Roman Wrestling<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_NAMRonH1v0VV2OBO6SNeQQ5hRbfz12kWP8iyDc8QpYcsEAjZEU8FC7msXF7zk79-_REz_FwfIL1IHQ9OaGkmQGw1_dCSpqBHq3Y8FgzKfCZ45ECGlyRw90m_B1bC6qFyL3hHURvUmw/s1600-h/41686624_9ac4537752.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359249557250287986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_NAMRonH1v0VV2OBO6SNeQQ5hRbfz12kWP8iyDc8QpYcsEAjZEU8FC7msXF7zk79-_REz_FwfIL1IHQ9OaGkmQGw1_dCSpqBHq3Y8FgzKfCZ45ECGlyRw90m_B1bC6qFyL3hHURvUmw/s200/41686624_9ac4537752.jpg" border="0" /></a> Took my brown bag lunch to the park <div>Found the shade under the tree</div><div>Settled in for a quick bite and quicker nap</div><div>Alarmed and disturbed by the sights and sounds</div><div>Two men Greco-Roman Wrestling on a tablecloth</div><div>Can't eat </div><div>Can't sleep</div><div>May as well work</div>ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-59219396303002948742008-05-14T19:56:00.004-04:002008-05-14T20:20:39.480-04:00Pain Sorrow Fear Tears<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC1TT_qcKQF6YYQ2sHrEirqt4d-I90iaPqQQ5Ek5XvRb-D07P6fp0QB6IWJabtj7P_7CYsD8UWQNzsdoq7agwvMl2l5o7x76o3I6HBqxfWaKMHvlBf0_q4m7cStK7A4WfFBHSQ_UgtlDg/s1600-h/china.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200389903753320146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC1TT_qcKQF6YYQ2sHrEirqt4d-I90iaPqQQ5Ek5XvRb-D07P6fp0QB6IWJabtj7P_7CYsD8UWQNzsdoq7agwvMl2l5o7x76o3I6HBqxfWaKMHvlBf0_q4m7cStK7A4WfFBHSQ_UgtlDg/s200/china.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:78%;">A mother mourned near the body of her child who was killed when a school collapsed in Dujiangyan.<br /></span></span></div><div></div><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>The greatest pain is the one you presently endure<br />My greatest pain cannot be compared to yours<br /><div>Your pain I cannot endure else it would be mine</div><div><br /> </div><div>The greatest sorrow is the one you presently mourn<br />My greatest sorrow cannot be compared to yours<br />Your sorrow I cannot endure else it would be mine</div><div><br /> </div><div>The greatest fear is the one you presently fear</div><div>My greatest fear cannot be compared to yours</div><div>Your fears I cannot fear else I would be there too</div><div><br /> </div><div>The biggest tears are the ones that presently fall</div><div>My tears cannot be compared to yours</div><div>Your tears I cannot dry else I would</div><div></div><div><br /><br />Revelation 21:4</div><div>God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and death shall be no more, neither shall there be anguish (sorrow and mourning) nor grief nor pain any more, for the old conditions and the former order of things have passed away. <span style="font-size:78%;">Amplified<br /></span></div><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div></div>ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-50305072686788114382008-03-25T20:08:00.011-04:002008-05-13T22:22:32.049-04:00Music<a href="http://persuasion.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/antique_radios_25.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://persuasion.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/antique_radios_25.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://persuasion.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/antique_radios_25.jpg"></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br />How many songs have been written?<br />How many melodies have been wrought out of the heart of man, the heart of God?<br />How many rhythms, rhymes, and beats?<br /><br /><p>I'm looking for You on my radio dial.<br />On the airwaves and satellite rays I'm trying to tune you in.<br />Somewhere you are singing to me<br /><br />Listening to the radio in the backseat of my mothers station wagon<br />my brothers scratchy 45's, 8 tracks, cassettes, CD's, and MP3's<br />I will not shy away from this tecnological age </p><p>I'm listening for You<br />Only You who wired me understand why.<br />Only You who wired me know the exact frequency<br />Only You can make me in tune, bring me in time,<br />"I have heard the Big Music and I'll never be the same "<br /><br /><a href="http://contentedcow.com/blogimages/erikprofile.gif"></a></p>ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-37782781763741136452008-03-04T22:15:00.004-05:002008-03-04T22:31:25.055-05:00Orange Shirt with the Smiling FaceIt's not my favorite shirt but I thought it was more visable<br />Not that I thought anyone would recognize me but you<br />Nontheless I wanted to be seen by you while I was out running in the street<br />Something to keep me going until I reached the end<br /><br />I had an idea where you might be<br />Somewhere around mile 13<br />I looked and looked to catch your eye<br />Looking for me, the <span style="color:#ff6600;"><strong>orange shirt</strong></span> with the smiling face<br /><br />Well I saw you there with your hand waving high<br />Your smile mirroring mine or was it mine mirroring yours<br />I ran straight for you even though it was a little off track<br />Hoping to get a kiss or a pat on the back<br /><br />I had an idea that you would be at the end<br />Near the finish line somewhere looking for me<br />I'm glad I wore something bright for you to see<br />So my eyes could catch yours looking for the <span style="color:#ff6600;"><strong>orange shirt</strong></span> with the smiling faceZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-40522645710976568142008-03-01T20:26:00.002-05:002008-03-01T20:41:50.035-05:00Buddy Miller-"To New To Have A Title"<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyxz6_08YRImbcq1x0lHyzrjVYfiSUFH6cW2WwJ_x8U4qA25BjyoSoCK5jQe9UL_dI92sYiaMESrcAm9HFQ0w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-45828728218158366022008-02-09T11:08:00.001-05:002014-04-30T11:51:55.235-04:00Where did you go Jack?<div align="center">
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Where did you go Jack?<br />
The light is out in your living room.<br />
I can't see you asleep on the couch with the TV on.<br />
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Where did you go Jack?<br />
Your pickup is no longer backed up to the street.<br />
Tomato's and onions can't be found.<br />
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Where did you go Jack?<br />
The rooster's call is silent.<br />
The dog is not on watch.<br />
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Did that dirty bastard take you down?<br />
Did that dirty bastard blind your eyes?<br />
The ones you loved you hurt the most.<br />
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Where did you go Jack?<br />
The One that loved, you recited His creed.<br />
Every Sunday week after week after week.<br />
...I believe in God, the Father Almighty,<br />
the Creator of heaven and earth,<br />
and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord...<br />
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Did that dirty bastard take you down?<br />
Did that dirty bastard blind your eyes?<br />
....was crucified, died, and was buried; he descended to the dead.<br />
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Where did you go Jack?<br />
Were you blind and now you see?<br />
....On the third day he rose again; he ascended into heaven, he is seated at the right hand of the Father, and he will come again to judge the living and the dead.<br />
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I hope you're in the garden admiring the lack of weeds.<br />
Eating sweet onions at the table with the King of kings.<br />
I hope that dirty bastard didn't get the best of you.<br />
I hope that dirty bastard didn't keep you from the Truth.ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-84566156847220342832008-01-08T17:57:00.000-05:002008-01-08T18:45:04.885-05:00Claustrophobia Part Two<a href="http://www.toc-stl.com/images/elbow.gif"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.toc-stl.com/images/elbow.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p align="left"><a href="http://www.toc-stl.com/images/elbow.gif"></a></p><br /><br /><p align="left"><br /><br /><a href="http://handballcity.com/images/elbow.jpg"></a><br /><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />My elbow is feeling much better.ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-29278281901315992972008-01-04T20:34:00.000-05:002008-01-04T20:59:08.041-05:00Claustrophobia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.burtonbradstock.org.uk/History/Farming%20-%20Andrew%20Bailey/Material%20from%20Frank%20&%20Mary%20Bailey%202002/Copy%20of%20cogden%20farm%20%20sheep%20being%20driven%20in%20litton%20lane.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.burtonbradstock.org.uk/History/Farming%20-%20Andrew%20Bailey/Material%20from%20Frank%20&%20Mary%20Bailey%202002/Copy%20of%20cogden%20farm%20%20sheep%20being%20driven%20in%20litton%20lane.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Yesterday, as I sat on the table getting ready for an MRI of my elbow, the nice lady asked if I was claustrophobic. I said "no" but part of me wanted to say, "no, unless I am stuck between my bed and the wall." I seem to recall being placed in this position by my older brother when I was eight years old. I didn't much like it as it felt like some sort of torture. As the nice lady slid me into the MRI machine I asked if there was any air in there and why was I getting so hot. I didn't really panic but realized that this wasn't going to work. As the nice lady slid be back out after about 20 seconds she said I would do much better next time with a mild sedative. I think I will wait to see if my elbow starts feeling better.ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100873267749953766.post-71604464149041265172007-11-06T20:05:00.000-05:002007-11-06T20:09:24.531-05:00Thanksgiving Holiday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://plus.maths.org/latestnews/jan-apr06/disease/turkey.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://plus.maths.org/latestnews/jan-apr06/disease/turkey.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I love Thanksgiving. Actually I like it more in my mind then in reality. It never meets my expectation but my expectation never changes. At least this way I enjoy Thanksgiving more days out of the year then the actual day.ZUERKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03817309478275184591noreply@blogger.com1