My sophomore year in high school I went to a high flautin’ snobby type school that had the word preparatory in it. It was so snobby that when I rolled in I was looked at like that guy from the Mummy in that movie about a jewish kid playing football (20 points to the first person who comments with the name of the movie). In my English class we were given a heavy dose of poetry. Not the cool Carpe Diem stuff, but long stuffy poems full of made up symbolism. Despite that, I was lured into believing that I should love poetry. I have read a bunch of it now, and have really tried to like poetry, but come to find out, I don’t. I don’t think less of you if you do. I just really hate it. And I am ok with dat.
On the other hand (which according to a certain dirty anthropology professor who taught me that a baboon has an actual bone for his bone, is not allowable if one does not first say “on one hand”), I am very upset that I have been completely unable to love comic books. I really want to. They have cool art, they are full of double entendreeses, healthy amount of cleavage, super heroes, etc. I just can’t bridge the gap between picture and word. It sucks because my inability to get into comics makes me feel like a poser when I watch Comic Book Men.
So we have completed the first cycle of the taking of the medicine. Now we have one week off before starting cycle 2. Thus far the side effects have been minimal. The only bummer so far has been a drop in platelets which precluded Cole from playing basketball this weekend.
Jim Baker is fighting for justice. Jim Baker is pissing in the wind. Jim Baker is trying to recover after eating durian fruit ice cream. Jim Baker is setting up campaign contribution funds for Cole and Logan's Presidential Campaigns. Jim Baker is trying to keep the economy alive by redistributing funds from bad guys to good guys. Jim Baker just finished brining a turkey. Jim Baker is happy Logan has his first tooth.