Keywords

Dean Winters played Ryan O'Reilly on OZ on HBO. He played a cop on Law & Order and was a felon in Homicide: Life on the Streets. On Rescue Me on FX, he was a cop again. IMDB has this option to select keywords. I was browsing the site and found the keywords for Dean Winters.
Observe.

murder
flashback
new-york-city
suicide
torture
twist-in-the-end
african-american-man
alcoholism
amnesia
anal-rape
angel
anti-death-penalty
arson
aryan
aryan-nation
asian-american
asian-culture

That is the first bunch. Did they just go through a dictionary and pick words? it seems a little over inclusive. Maybe I'm being oversensitive. What would your keywords be?

It's my birthday so I'm going to be indulging myself

By asking anyone who comes here to check out these sites- I am not a political person or anything like that and while I do view most of the world with a certain apathy, this is a different thing for me. It's the one thing in the whole world that I am really passionate about.

This is where my Isaac dog is from. Petfinder.com.

Both of our cats were also found through this website. Isaac's place of adoption is called RescueAdopt.com and there are some very sad articles and stories on the webpage, as well as lots of happy endings.

If you or someone you know is considering getting a new dog or cat- please consider adopting a shelter pet instead of buying from a pet store . The facts about puppy mills are sickening.

Look down at your pet dog or cat or any dog or cat (or the myriad other pets people keep- I don't mean to imply that gerbils, rats, hamsters, bunnies, guinea pigs, snakes, lizards, turtles, etc. should just be ignored) and think about these facts:

That's my preaching for now. If anyone reading this has any happy endings about an animal that they've adopted or rescued, I'd love to hear it.

I promise my next post will not be nearly as preachy. I'll even try to be funny (I will work really hard, I swear) if some of you just check out these sites and maybe even make a donation if you can't do the ultimate- saving one of these animals.

That is all...

Still injured

And I forgot to mention the other glorious gifts I received for my birthday from Aughra. They include a CD , a super cute snake bracelet made of ivory enamel with gold tones that I can't find any damn pictures of anywhere on the internet, so instead please look at this bracelet and possibly buy one. I also got two awesome antique medicine bottles because Aughra knows what I like. Cause she rocks.

And my pets love her.

Aughra brings snow

As anyone who's been near a tv set knows, (or I guess by a window), there is snow. In the NYC region, we've gotten about a foot so far. For people from upstate NY or Michigan, as both Aughra and Bug are - this is like no snow. For people in this area, as soon as there is 4" people start freaking out. Jersey drivers are infamous in good weather- sunny skies and they still stop and go every thity seconds- when the weather is bad.....ooh. Not so much with the fun. It's hard to get to your exit. Right now Aughra is cutting Bug's hair. The dog is scared that he will be next. I am wearing the fabulous t-shirt Aughra got me for my birthday. We all woke up at 3 in the afternoon. This link made me laugh a lot. That is all.

Your mission, if you accept, is.....

Go to the DMV and get new driver's license. You need to present 870 forms of ID, including your SAT scores, a piece of equipment from the room you were born in, carpeting from the car of the physician who delivered you, DNA, and 687 forms of photo ID with both your married name and your maiden name.

AAAgggggh. I also have to go pick up another copy of my marriage license cause somehow, I can't find the thing. Which is kind of sad. I'm a slob in a big way. Anyway, I also have to drag myself through the shower which is difficult as it is very painful still to stand on injured foot. Haven't washed hair in days cause IT'S REALLY COLD OUT and I don't have the coordination to blow dry my hair without ending up looking like Chaka Khan only without the style.

So it's off to the Borough hall to get the marriage license. Then to the DMV. Then to Sweet Valley General to human resources to get my disability papers filled out correctly. Then to the doctor's office to drop off said papers. Then to the laundromat at mom's house, where Milo the dog is terrified of my cane and will bark at me a lot.

Hooray!

the conveniently crippled's commentary

Look! Alliteration! Ooh! Everyone loves alliteration. Here's some fun stuff I found for all of you wonderful people out there. I know that Aughra has two dogs. These dogs shed.

I also have a dog. The Almighty Isaac and his two "siblings" Bernadette and Simon. You can see their pictures by following the links on Isaac's page.

Anyway, these animals are secretly building other animals, using huge piles of shedded fur. Not this kind of fur , but pet fur. Then I found this wonderful site VIP Fibers! . Now I can have Siberian Husky Yarn! .

I actually had a hard time picking which one I liked. It's kind of expensive for yarn, so I don't know if I'll actually buy it. Probably not, because then Isaac would attack me for smelling like another dog.

this is what i did to my foot

Here is an illustration of the exact way I did it. Except I wasn't barefoot. This is the lovely boot I have to wear. With this, 2 Percocet, and my cane, I can walk at about half the pace of a 3 limbed tortoise. . Since I commited this act of fantastic grace, I have had a total of 6 hours of sleep, despite narcotic analgesics. The fact that I now have to sleep with a FUCKING SKI BOOT ON makes it harder. In happier news, I was able to smoke almost twice as many cigarettes as I normally would have. I am out of work for a minimum of 2 weeks, and am ordered to walk as little as possible for the next 72 hours. I fear my Percocet supply may run out. Sigh.

Careful what you wish for

Remember me saying I wish I could break an ankle or something so I wouldn't have to go to work for a few weeks? Yesterday I tripped in my driveway- I have the weakest ankles on earth- constantly stepping "wrong" and having them "roll"-my left foot is hugely swollen and I cannot walk on it. I roll the ankles all the time, happens almost daily, but usually stops hurting after about five minutes. Not this time. Made it to work (car is automatic and can drive with right foot only) and limped along in the parking lot. Ran into Val, one of the nurses I work with who took one look at me and said in her sweet little Filipina accent "What the hell did you do? You're going to the ER, right?" I said no, I'll be fine, I'll just take some motrin and get someone to wrap it for me. When it took me 15 minutes to walk inside and get up the elevator she actually marched me to the Head Nurse (slowly) who took one look at my lurching Igor like gait and sent me to the ER.

Now I have a cane. They were going to give me crutches but reconsidered when I mentioned I'd probably end up with a broken neck. "Some people just don't have the coordination for crutches", said the doctor. I'd be one of them. The cane helps- except my foot still touches the ground. I have a prescription for Percocet. They work in the sense that I feel all fucked up, but my foot is still killing me. I have to go to the orthopaedist today- the one in a million doctor I mentioned in a reply to Blog Ho- and I'm hoping he'll tell me they're going to amputate. Cause this fucking hurts. I'd actually rather be at work. Got three hours of sleep- apparently throbbing pain doesn't go away when you sleep. And then the cat, sweet 19lb behemoth that he is- stepped on the foot. So then I had to take another Percocet.

Bug has to stay home to take me to the doctor and worst of all- drive me to my mom't to do laundry. She's gonna be furious that I missed work last night and will be out tomorrow also. I spoke to her on the way to work yesterday (that's why the cell phone bill is out of control) and told her I'd hurt my foot. "Take some fucking Motrin and walk it off!" "If you keep calling in sick they'll fire you!" My hospital is so short staffed, I don't think they could fire me unless I intentionally gave someone an IV Push of Potassium chloride. Now it is 8:38 am on my day off (official day off, not sick day) and I CAN'T SLEEP. I will take MORE damn Percocet and watch morning tv until the doctor's office opens and I can get my Bug to drive me there. Where he will probably write me a note for 5 days out of work which is great but Aughra is coming to visit me a week from today and we can't go shopping in cool expensive stores (ok window shopping) in NYC if I CAN'T WALK.

I'm an idiot and a gimp. Whimper. Luckily I have such an open mind on pain medication.

dead little animals in dresses

I found this site, A Case of Curiosities, one day while doing a search for reliquaries. . Why was I searching for reliquaries? I think it might have been because I'd just watched HELLBOY and Abe, the fish guy whose voice is performed by Niles from Frasier, mentions something about a reliquary. Or someone does. Anyway, I found this site and the pictures on it were just amazing. The ones with the kittens, done in the 1800's by Walter Potter, are unbelievable in their scale and detail. It's fascinating, and this is kind of stupid, but the creator of this site, who is also a taxidermist, is a woman, and for some reason I found that really strange. I'm over it now. It only lasted about ten seconds of "Huh?" but I go back to this site over and over again. And no, I'm not planning on having my dog or cats taxidermied. That's because they're never going to die. Hmph.

I hate health insurance

I need a referral. I don't need a referral. The insurance company says I do. My card says I do. My PCP says I don't . I'm out $85. I hate insurance.

Monkeys on the keyboard and a small amount of copyright infringement

I have little fuzzy monkey stickers on the new IBOOK. Bug, the husband (and no, that's not his real name), saw them and immediately reminded me of the Onion article about the dental receptionist vs. her " brand-new, state-of-the-art Dell Dimension 4100". Especially the part where the computer states that " you'd think my name was "Tweety Bird Sticker Receptacle." She's got me faggoted up like a 10-year-old girl's notebook." I can't directly link to the article because it's in the archives and I just shelled out $30 for the premium membership so I can read the old articles that remind me of carefree days. My favorite was about the Filthy Hippie Ferret owner. My college had lots of these guys, but as far as I can remember none of them had ferrets. I had ferrets for a brief period in 96- Ferret sitting as it were. They were fun. They stole shiny things and also socks and slippers and carried them to the bottom drawer of the dresser that they had chewed a huge hole in to hide. If I couldn't find my keys, I knew to look in there. They also liked to dive headfirst into large Big Gulp cups of vodka and cranberry juice. Then they would try to lick themselves clean before I could wipe them off to prevent alcohol poisoning.

and here is where the copyright infringement starts. Sorry, Onion, I just love this bit. I'm going to just leave in my favorite bits.

Achives: Volume 33: Issue 14:
By Thunder The Ferret
Jesus Christ, do I ever hate my filthy fucking hippie owner, Zach. You have no idea the hell I go through, living in this disgusting house with him and his hordes of skank-ass hippie friends.
I didn't ask for this shit, you know. I try to keep clean, giving myself frequent tongue-baths. But it's simply impossible when, everywhere I step, there's a moldy black-bean pita sandwich or an ashtray overflowing with half-smoked joints.

The agony never ends. I can't even sleep, because, every time I try, Zach starts beating on his bongos, while some other unwashed bozo tries to play some crappy didgeridoo he made out of some PVC pipe. And if I hear one more hippie fumble through the bridge of "Sugar Magnolia" on Zach's untuned acoustic guitar, I'm going to squeeze my head between the bars of my cage and twist until my neck snaps.
I'm a ferret, goddamn it! I have a very acute sense of smell! Day after day, I am forced to choke on the nauseating stench of strawberry incense and sweat-soaked Guatemalan wool doused in patchouli oil. The absolute worst thing that ever happened to me, though, was when that son-of-a-bitch Zach got out that goddamn collar and took me down to the park to watch him take off his sandals and juggle sticks. I stretched the leash as far as it would go, but I'm sure people could still figure out I was with that loser. There was a bunch of squirrels standing by a tree, laughing their asses off at me. Christ, talk about humiliating!
Mark my words, one of these days, I'm gonna make another run for it. It was the last straw today when he tied that teeny fucking hemp necklace around my neck. I chewed through that piece of shit in 10 minutes. Just because he thinks it's goddamn 1969 doesn't mean I have to play along. If I can just make it past the rusted VW microbus in the driveway, that fucking hippie will never see my ass again.


I love the byline. Unfortunately I can't post the photo, cause again, it's in the archives and you'd have to be silly like me to pay for it, but it's just fucking priceless.

As is the fact that the hospital I work at called me and asked me to come in today. On my day off. HA! No way. Even if they paid me $100 /hour (well, ok, for $100/ hour I probably would go) there is no way I'm dragging my ass back to that hellhole until 3 pm on Monday. ANd that's only if I can't somehow break an ankle or an arm or something this weekend to prevent that.

Wish me luck. Hope it's painless and not one of those really bad fractures (you know, where you end up paralyzed or dead)

pretty things I like

Ok, so most of the pretty things are boys. There's skinny smart boy, Thewlis, , smarmy eurotrash boy Cassel , all time favorite have wanted to do bad things to since I was 14 years old boy Mr. Oldman , boy who was so lovely back in the heroin days Nick Cave, the cute boys who heroin killed, Layne..., cute Irish boy with the lovely brogue , the boy I papered my walls with in 7th grade, Michael Hutchence , a lovely man, who really doesn't meet the "boy" criterion, Clark Gable, .

Ok. For this list, all the pretty things are boys.

I'm sure Aughra can remind me of the ones I've forgotten....