Effed up the old finger

I was reaching into the mailbox, (I know, right?) and managed to tear a flap out of my trigger finger. I probably deserved it, I'm a devil y'know. It's not the first little flap I've torn. There was the 'trying to get a bug out of a bottle by smacking it on the ground palm flap-tear' incident, and the 'big Danish guy drunkenly slamming the door on my hand as I was trying to open it finger-plus-nail c-shaped flap-tear' incident. I like that there's a professional sportsman called Kaka.

Cinderella was murdered

In my stairwell, apparently. High on meds, and slept the weekend away.

Grumpus, Meowsers, and Wump

I beat a delivery driver kid in an old-fashioned green-means-go drag race today. Pulled up to the punk and he looked my scoot and I up and down with a sneer. I looked at him and spit. Light turned red, and he initially got a quick jump on me, with his foot-clutch jobby. Two seconds later, he was out of gears as I cruised passed him, making sure to flash him the same shit-eating grin he showed me. I got his ass! The Beach Boys oughta write a song about this epic win. Actually, I respect these kids, with their 3$/hour pay, no tips, no helmets, and balls-out driving style. Sadly, I watch them for tips on 'urban maneuvering'. One delivery kid I often see has glued massive foot-long Batman-style streamlined plastic horns to his helmet. That's cool.
A similar drag-race happened to me a month or so ago, except this time it was a cop on a Harley I pulled up to at the light. He looked at me without expression, and when the light turned, I swear I got a nose ahead of him in the first ten feet, before he smoked me bad.

Daurian Redstart

He's a dapper little fella, init? Haven't been able to re-locate the Munias, I hear they don't stay put for too long, so I musta had a horseshoe up me arse on that one. Well I've avoided going to the real doctor. I think I'm whipping this throat infection thing on my own. Tons of tangerines, ginger honey tea, and bland homemade vegetable soup seem to be doing the trick, but if I go anywhere near a lit cigarette, the coughing begins anew. Looks like I might have to to keep the self-imposed hermit-dom going for another weekend, as Korea is still the ashtray of the world. I'm babbling, I blame Advil cold & Sinus. Ahhhh, Advil cold & sinus.

Is it just me...

...or does that cloud look disturbingly like an a-bomb mushroom? Shudder.

Graphically dead Siberian Weasel

Not trying to gross people out, so just pretend the entrails are silly string, and you'll be ok. I've seen a few of these sneaky little guys, and I'm glad I share an island with them.

Sexy sexy Halla

She just keeps getting sexier.

Glaring Verisimilitude

Big words for a toy gun, but I approve.

Seuk Seuk Teun Teun

If I needed any more proof that Dr. Stickem is a full-on quack, the last batch of medicine he gave me is intended to make little kids grow up big and strong. I'm a full grown man, but thanks anyways. QUACK!

More quackery

I returned to Dr. Stickem today, for some reason. He was grasping at straws this time, because I'm still sick. "Are you cold?", he asked. "No", I replied. As he prepped my PALM for insertion, he said "Ok, you're cold, so this will make you hot, but it will hurt..." - Y'think? It hurt. After he fired the needles into me, the doc was too good to touch them again, so he sent in the smiling She-witch to pluck them out.
Then, he brought me into the alien autopsy room for more advanced silliness. The room looked like a restaurant, complete with the adjustable smoke-eating vents commonly seen in BBQ joints. He strapped a wooden cup filled with burning coal and hocus pocus grass onto my lower stomach, and left me there for 30 minutes of solitary head-shaking and eyebrow-raising. I'm guessing the smoke was supposed to have been sucking bad hoo-doo out of my gut, like the spectral smoke produced when the Stonecutters burned Homer's underwear.
As I walked out, still coughing like a dog on fire, I swear the She-witch was about to mouth the words 'I'm sorry'. Bring on the 'real' doctor with his trail mix bag of pills, because I'm done with all the snake-oil liniments - any medical treatment that leaves you with stigmata and a scorched treasure trail is not cool.
Well, I'm gonna go listen to my second favorite Ramones song now, 'Needles and Pins'. Number one is of course 'The KKK took my baby away'.

Creepy bag tree

I was sneaking through the bushes the other day, clinging to a trail on the edge of a steep valley when I found this. A creepy monument to bags of different crap. I quickly turned around, fully expecting to see a hydrocephalic Korean hillbilly with a banjo in one hand and a crudely fashioned war-axe in the other. Shiver. I'm pretty sure there was a torso heap under the plastic sheeting.
I went back to Dr. Stickem today, and he put needles in my face this time. I had to keep my eyes shut, because the sight of quivering needles coming out of my face made me feel uneasy. I'm open-minded, but I'm still not sure how needles in my face are supposed to clear up phlegm in my throat. I was wondering if the quack would pull a chicken liver out of my stomach, in a John of God-style psychic surgery. And the murky crap I've gotta drink is foul. It knocked me out last night while I was watching Hitman (merciful then), remote still in hand. I woke up a few hours later and wondered why Hitman had become blurred-out Korean soft porn. Life is funny. On the subject of the blurred-out bits, I bet some Koreans raised on those late-night blur and wince-fests get a shock when it comes time for their first sexual encounter. "What the hell is THAT?"

Sexy Halla

Halla Mountain is sexy, especially from the south side (the only good side). She's been looking extra sexy these days, with her snow.
I missed out on the Leonids meteor shower last night, due to clouds and sleep.
I went to an acupuncture doctor today, to have a look at my nagging cough (he looked right at it). Yeah, I could have gone to a big hospital quack, but he'd just violate all of my facial orifices with prods, hit 'shuffle' on his prescription-dispensing machine, and hand me 7 different and mostly useless pills (coincidentally all made by the same up-and-coming Korean pharmaceutical company). I'm not a fan of needles, and he was firing them into me like crazy. He flung them into my toes, wrists, gut, and neck. Neck. I lay there pretending to be calm. Now I've got some magic sachets of powder (deer fins and shark antlers mostly) that I'm meant to drink thrice daily. We'll see, we'll see.

It might scare your friends

Now I've casually called things 'the best' this and that before, but this, surely, has to be the best thing ever. "Looks so real - it might scare your friends."

Think Rammstein is scary?

Then you've never seen this German gem, dug up by Cobain, who really must have too much time on his hands: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQAKRw6mToA&feature=related

Dead Siskin

Another one that shoulda looked both ways.