September 15, 2009

Our parrot Elliott vomited today. He does this periodically as it is a symptom of his chronic illness. It is an arresting sight, to say the least. I am not revolted by the function, but feel empathetic when someone is experiencing this act; it is humiliating to say the least, and my compassion swells when I see it occurring. Well, apart from one time when I was on the Portland transit system, Tri-Met. The bus line that went by my former household on Division Street was the Number 4. For some reason in their compromised opiated minds, the heroin addicts would get on the bus, thinking for some reason it went to the Belmont Street methadone clinic. How they ever thought this is beyond my comprehension, as the numbers or streets are not similar. But, there they would be, slumped over in their bus seats, all strung out and pasty, like little E.T.s from that lovely movie by Stevie Spielberg.

On one ride from the downtown area to my home, there were a couple on board the Number 4 that exhibited such a physiognomy, and were muttering gibberish most of the ride. When they finally figured out by 39th Ave that they were on the wrong bus, they began to agitate, albeit at strung out speed, which is surreally slow. Then one of them vomited, but the vomitus came out equally slow; I suspect that peristalsis is also compromised by opiate abuse, which is quite phenomenal as the function is involuntary. And the vomitus; it looked just as white and pasty as them - how does that work?

September 6, 2009

Paul and I finished all but one window and fitted our new faucet. I assembled a new waterhose spindle and began washing the house's exteriors. In the evening, we drank much beer, and some of Paul's friends came over who were visiting their families in Stoughton. The end result was that 4 men, in ages from late 30's to early 40's and one of their wives, managed to drink about 27 beers in about 3 hours; not bad for a 'Pabsting.'

Before we retired for the evening, we caught some of Jerry Lewis. It is sad to see such an old man attempt to sing, walk, and look cogent.

September 5, 2009

Paul and I purchased materials to replace our basement windows. I helped in painting the wood 2X4's, and chiseling some of the wall borders to help size the window casements better. In the evening, we drank plenty of cheap beer, which is a great help when doing projects; it doesn't alter you that fast, and you can drink plenty of them during the day and evening, and still be OK in the morning to proceed with work. We also watched the Badger game and during halftime, the squirrels outside my house on Regent Street that have been eating and gathering all the hickory nuts from the lone shagbark hickory tree on that part of the street. The squirrels are at such a rate that every second pieces of the nut would fall onto the street, and every once in awhile a few nuts themselves. The street in that section is littered with nut pieces and resin from the nuts.

September 4, 2009

Paul came into town from Milwaukee, and we began sizing up projects for the house. For the evening, we drank lots of beer and caught parts of Natural Born Killers, which was the first movie date Karen and I had.

September 3, 2009

In going to our closest grocery store, Whole Foods, to pick up some fruits for Elliott and a few other items, I had another brush with academic royalty. I was walking into the store and practically bumped into Chancellor Biddy Martin. She is pretty small, like Donna Shalala was, but more plump and red in the face as contrast to Donna's visage resembling that one witch in Wizard of Oz. Biddy was pretty pleasant but a little removed in that she knew that I figured out who she was when I apologized for bumping into her.