Yeah, Really.

I love to read. I go in phases where I have time, then I don’t have time, etc. I’ve recently finished a couple of great book and I’m in the middle of an amazing one. So great, in fact, that I wanted to share:

The Alienist by Caleb Carr

The Angel of Darkness by Caleb Carr

If you like murder mysteries and historical fiction, you’ll dig these.

Carter Beats the Devil by Glen David Gold

This is also a historical mystery. I just started it and it’s blowing my mind.

People have told me I look like the following:

-That Guy

-That Dude in that film about the robbery

-That guy with the goatee

-The Fat Dude in that Toy Story movie

-Han Solo

I’m sure you’re all riveted by this news. Stay tuned. 

John Carpenter is starting to populate Netflix streaming. Last night was Escape from New York; tonight is The Thing. Kurt Russell is a lethal weapon in the hands of the right director. 

Awesome. 

I know I’m always posting pics of my *wonderful* kids, but as any parent will tell you, a lot of being a parent is just full of suck. I was so angry at my children last night that I’m still reeling today. I hate being the bad guy, and I’m glad we can talk on a friendly basis, but I’m your Father, Goddammit, not your friend. 

I hate posting status updates about anything I’m trying to accomplish, especially weight loss, because I feel like I’m setting myself up for failure. Um, However. It seems as though my workout and diet routine is finally starting to show results. Even after taking a week off due to illness, I apparently lost enough weight to have to cinch my belt tighter to keep my pants from falling. And the scale just surprised me. So I got that going for me. Which is nice.

I don’t post a whole lot about work, because that shit will bite you in the ass. I did want to mention, though, that even being out a lot in the past week, my boss recognized the fact that even though I was sick, I still put in full work days from home, and he also knew that I’ve been putting in extra hours to catch up and he thanked me. That was cool. 

CHSH is still up in the air for me. I’d really like to attend. 

I’m getting drunk tonight. 

Since I’ve been sick for the past few days I’m taking today to relax, do some office work and watch a movie or two. 

I’m currently watching The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. Terry Gilliam has always been in my top five list of all time favorite directors, in front of Woody Allen, but behind Stanley Kubrick (my all time favorite).  His vision and seemingly limitless imagination pulls a viewer in and literally takes them to another plane of existence for a couple hours. 

What’s blowing me away about this movie is not only the story, but this is the movie that Heath Ledger was filming when he passed away. Without a lead actor, Gilliam decided to change the story and use other actors in Ledgers place. Instead of simply changing a face, Gilliam uses Johnny Depp, Jude Law and others that interweave thought the story in the most fascinating way. If that weren’t enough, in an inspired bit of casting, Tom Waits plays the Devil. 

Amazing. 

For Fartwithheadphoneson

Dear Charlie Sheen: Congrats on selling out Radio City! Just remember that Andrew Dice Clay used to sell out MSG, and now the only time he sees MSG is when he orders Chinese takeout.

When I realized that I was having slight fever hallucinations, I thought it was time to see a doctor. (Speaking of which, driving is AWESOME during fever hallucinations). After a few uncomfortable minutes in the waiting room where someone literally got up and moved a few seats down from me, I was called into my Dr.’s office. When he looked at me, he LAUGHED and said, wow, I think I know why you’re here! Dr.’s make big money due to years of schooling and by honing their perception skills, apparently. 

He took just a few minutes to diagnose me with acute bronchitis. I was quickly given prescriptions for an impressive array of inhalers, antibiotics, and steroids. He then sent me home, but not before giving me an inhaler treatment in the office, and a steroid shot in my ass that he so kindly let his young, cute, and slightly confused looking student administer. He gave her the needle and left the room for the two of us to stare at each other for a second then bust out laughing. I then jumped up, dropped trou, and she shot me. I turned around and we started laughing again. Then I left, got my drugs, came home and collapsed. 

Anyway, I feel much better today. I’m not in the city, but I’m working. It amazes me that, as bad as I felt yesterday, a handful of pills made me feel so much better. Huh. And to think there was a time in my life that I thought drugs were for party time, not make me less sicky time. 

Oh, yeah, and a big shout out to those of you who offered to shoot me, and to those of you who said they wouldn’t. I’m sure there was wisdom in each of your decisions, but the fact that you simply took the time to acknowledge me in my time of need meant a lot. 

I am horribly, amazingly sick. 101 fever, I’m freezing cold, headache, coughing and I can’t breath. 

If any of you cared for me, you’d come over and shoot me. 

I keep forgetting to take my blood pressure meds. If the medical establishment wants guys like me to live longer, they should change the dosage instructions from: 

“Take twice daily with water”

to 

“Crush pill, apply to hookers ass and snort twice daily with water nearby, preferably a hot tub”

My stress levels at work are rising, which is making me cranky. This crankiness is seeping into all aspects of my life, including here. I hate being Mr. Cranky Pants. 

I think I’m falling into obscurity on Tumblr and Twitter. I know it shouldn’t matter to me. But, dammit, sometimes it does. And that in turn irritates me that something that shouldn’t bug me does. 

I have a friend that I’d really like to see more often but I can’t because she lives in another state. 

Although I’m part Irish (I’m even named Patrick after my Irish grandfather), I can’t stand St. Patrick’s Day in NYC. Specifically, the train is full of gross drunk armatures in the morning, and it’s ten times worse on the ride back. I’ve decided to work from home on Thursday.  

I need a vacation. 

This hopefully concludes my little rant. 

I feel as though I’m losing relevance.

I love all kinds of Sci Fi, from the brilliant to the campy. I’ve recently started to watch Dr. Who on Netflix. I know this show has years and years of history, but I’ve been doing some research so I know a bit about the show. Tonight I watched my first episode where the Dr. encounters his nemesis, the Daleks. 

And, um, honestly? the Daleks really don’t look that threatening to me. I know there’s a lot of camp and low budget props going on, which is part of the shows charm. However, I have a hard time fearing a robot that looks like R2-D2 on steroids. 

It was the year after 9/11. I was still working in NYC, and I remember still being pretty shaky to the point where anytime I heard a siren, fire alarm, or saw a crowd of people I was weirded out. 9/11 also prompted a major shift in my love life and relationships, so in 2002 I was both mourning the end of a relationship with a woman who I was seriously in love with, and rediscovering a relationship with a woman that I had history with with. All in all, a pretty weird year for me. 

This is no big surprise as I’ve been an Uncle for years now. However, it’s a trying time in my sisters life, and as much as she plays me like a fiddle and breaks my heart, I don’t let that get in the way of my relationship with my niece and nephew. 

I picked them up this morning and took them to the mall. We ate junkfood. We window shopped. I spent a ridiculous amount of money in the Build a Bear workshop. (seriously, that place is some racket). Then we went to Fishtopia, and I let them pick out fish for my tank that they can come over and visit any time they visit Uncle Pat. Then we came back to my place and all flopped on the couches until their Dad picked them up. Before they left, I got big hugs, thank yous, and they each told me that they loved me. 

When I look at those two children, I see myself and my sister when we were that age. It wasn’t a happy childhood. When I had my own kids I promised that they would never, ever have any of the worries that I had when I was growing up. I think I’m doing a pretty good job of that. Unfortunately, my niece and nephew are growing up almost exactly like Kelly and I did. I can’t change my sister. Only she can do that. It breaks my heart to see what they are going through. So when I see them, I spoil them. They know Uncle Pat can never say no. Instead of taking advantage of that opportunity, they rarely ask for things, and they are genuinely grateful when they get stuff. And it makes me unbelievably happy when I can put smiles on their faces. 

The fact that I’m able to be there for these kids, as well as my own, makes me feel that I’ve done something right somewhere down the line. All in all, I feel really fucking lucky. 

Pictures and two lovely ladies may or may not be involved. 

The Jury is still out, although I like the camp of the killer department store mannequins, and Billie Piper is fantastically, ridiculously cute. 

I consider my sessions with my trainer to be drunken one night stand in reverse: I hate actually doing it, but when it’s all over, and I’m all sweaty and tired, I feel really good about it. 

I spent the weekend with a family member because after Monday I knew I wouldn’t be seeing her for a while. The circumstances of her absence are bad enough, but seeing her go really fucked me up. 

The extent of my being locked up consists of one weekend in JDC (Juvenile Detention Center), eight hours in a drunk tank, and one afternoon spent at Stark prison in Florida for a scared straight program.

I cleaned my room last week and I realized it’s sort of a mirror of how I live my life. I let things go until they become overwhelming and chaotic. Once I take control I marvel at how simple life can be, yet hate myself that I let things get so chaotic in the first place. 

I watched Wall Street with Charlie Sheen yesterday and actually got really pissed at him for throwing all of his potential away. 

I have two.

One on my thumb from putting my hand through a plate glass window during the course of a botched motorcycle robbery.

The other a hernia scar that’s hidden by my pubic hair. I got that one by having relations with a witch**

*True story, I absolutely am convinced this is the truth

I both love and fear the Lookatthisfuckingperson blog. Love it, because it cracks me up every day, and fear it because I could easily be one of the subjects. 

I really liked Groverviolet’s TT post today. I identify with some of it, but mainly I found it brave to throw all of that out there.

I’m meeting with a personal trainer tonight. I’d love to be one of those amazing people who can do it all alone, but the fact is that I really need a kick in the ass to begin working out. 

My train buddy may do the trainer with me. It would be cool to have a work out partner. 

I just realized that my last statement made it sound like I’m going to have a threesome with my train buddy and the trainer. Unless my trainer is a woman who begins and ends every workout with Tequila shots, that probably won’t happen.

I find it ironic that, for someone so impulsive, I work best when things are planned and scheduled. 

I’m ecstatic that Spring is just around the corner. Winter can place it’s frosty lips ever so gently on my ass and fuck off.