Saturday, January 12, 2013

Oh No Not I, I Will Survive

I'm sick.

Much better now, but sick. Coupla days.

Like several hundred million Americans, I have some version of the Martian death flu (one of the cute little known thingies about diabetes is slightly compromised immunity, and slow healing - given that I seem to open a major blood vessel daily at work, I should have stock in Band-Aids. No one has ever seen my complete hands, it's possible no one knows I have hands.) 

What little lunch I have eaten has been kept down. Yesterday for breakfast I had oatmeal. Comfort food, right? Well, in the space of a few hours it not only stuck to my ribs but set up a thriving civilization, complete with a social safety net and a Ferris Wheel attached to my stomach, but it did stay down.

I know I'm in trouble when I'm cold - I'm never cold. 45 degF is t-shirt weather for me. But I was cold, so I pulled the plug at work, went home, went to bed, late afternoon. 

It's been a long, what, 30 hrs? The cold sweats, the hot colds, TheraFlu (the generic, anyhow, local stores have pulled TheraFlu due to quality control concerns, apparently, but the generic still works and still tastes like deep-fried ass), the hallucinations; so vivid, so seemingly memorable, but in the end ephemeral.

About 4 in the morning, things seem to have come to a head - my wife was sleeping on the couch, she loves me but had no intention of getting anywheres near me until I was healthy, or spring, whichever came first, and heard me come into the kitchen for water, medicine, and a conversation with the unicorn making me scrambled eggs and farting fairies, and said I was a blur, shivering, teeth chattering, freezing and sweating, like a penguin doing aerobics, except that I don't own a tuxedo - I've worn one twice, and honestly, I look like a Greek god, or Michaelangelo's David, only with a tux and much larger junk, at my brother's wedding, where I would have been swamped by the chickies if'n they weren't already married or about to become in-laws, and at my wedding, where I would have been swamped by the chickies if'n it weren't my own wedding, plus I got swamped by Teh One Chickie What Counts - W00t!!1!!!

I have returned, somewhat, to humanity - at least the unicorn has left, the fairies stink (sort of as expected), and the eggs were delicious. Watching a bit of Baltimore - Denver, waiting for the Packers - San Francisco, I love my guys but this is gonna be a tough one, we spent too much time punting last week, and while we managed to quiet Adrien Peterson, in part that was due to the back-up QB for the Vikings being seriously bad, we could put 8 guys on the line. Frank Gore for SF is perfectly capable, and Colin Whoozenwhatzitnick is a pretty good quarterback. Wish I could do a better analysis, what I can say is that we are a much different and I think much better team than at the beginning of the year.

I've got a pile of work slated for my vacation week starting Monday, so there will be some remodel blogging, and tomorrow something about the game. For now, since I feel up to it I have got to eat something, I'm effing ravenous, and the game starts in a few.


  1. I got the sore-throat-and-phlegm edition of that MDF.

  2. did you survive?

    I was banned from my own blog. mikey's trolling was unbearable, and I went to bed.

  3. Ugh.
    I had to work today (don't dare burn all my sick time in Jan, and I feel reasonably human), so I held out until that classless jackhole Harbaugh went for the hard-count draw on 4th and 1 when a field goal already made it a three score game(ya know, Jim Schwartz is also a classless jackhole, but I now understand him going after that goddam fratboy doofus Bud-light drinker after the Lions-49ers game last year).
    Just ugh.
    We were horrible, and we saw it coming, Rodgers constantly running for his life, three-man rush and man-to-man coverage just getting burned by a wildcat offense.
    Seriously, ugh.
    I survived, basically a good season, but we have A LOT of work to do, I do not like short playoff runs, I spent too many years actually getting stuff done on Sundays in December and January.

  4. Dom Capers needs to be fired, drawn and quartered, his head marched through the streets of Green Bay on a pike and thrown into the lake; his office demolished and the ground salted.

    Fucking overrated hack. How does he draw up a defensive scheme that leaves Kaepernick such huge holes, and then MAINTAIN THE SAME SCHEME after the holes are exposed in the first half?

  5. Awfully forgiving for a zombie.

    I'd have said, "every stockholder gets one junkpunch, THEN dicing marching piking drowning dozing salting."

    170+ yrds for a QB. I'm taking a litle abuse at work; only a little, because not too many people here, and anyone here on a Sunday who isn't required to be here is dumb.

    'Course, they're Vikings fans so screw 'em.

    1. One thing struck me during that. I wonder if Kaepernick realizes that game planning around a QB running that much kind of indicates that he is EXPENDABLE. Sure, some of the runs were scrambles, but a good number were sneaks. And nobody has taught him to slide.

      Harbough obviously doesn't give a shit for the kid lasting beyond one or two seasons.

    2. Ummm, yeah, see Robert Griffin III. I haven't seen MRI results in the news but I suspect he won't be running much for a bit.

      I'm just a fan, not an expert, but I see one of the primary thingies they are looking for in QBs is minimum 6', that's why Wilson (SEA) was such a 'chancy' pick, to see over the pocket, and enough mobility to get out of trouble, arm strength of course. Kaepernick has 'em, I was impressed. But that body type doesn't make a good running back - hell, look at how many wideouts hate to go over the middle, they know they are going to get pasted and its going to hurt a lot.

      The best running backs I call 'jackrabbits', ie. Peterson, high acceleration and turning on a dime, and 'bowlers', ie. Matt Forte or Frank Gore, give 'em the ball and find out how far they've gone when their legs stop and the dust settles. Neither type is generally lanky, they are built little suckers and can take a hit, and their careers are still relatively very short. If a QB with an arm, height, and head loses mobility, you end up with, hell, basically Lynn Dickey or Kenny Stabler, can put up flashy numbers but is a sitting duck. Even Rodgers took off running a lot more often before the concussions.

      And people do figure out the read option, unless the 'people' in question is Dom Capers - Cam Newton had some serious growing pains this year, but probably for the better.

      Eh, my two cents.

      Also, Harbaugh's a clueless classless douchenozzle.

  6. This entry is freaking hilarious. You should get sick more often!

  7. Looks like weekends are just for cheese from here on out.

    And, of course, rooting against the 49ers.