The Old Girl Shoots and Scores

I told you something wacky would happen to CruiserMel. Actually, wacky things happen all the time; it's just the state of mind and point of view that make things appear funny, strange, entertaining, or any of a myriad of adjectives, some of which constitute a mention in this here blog. And apparently my point of view changed during that little thing called R.E.M. sleep Tuesday night. For the better.

It was a beautiful day in Dallas, Wednesday. Birds were singing, the sky was blue, there was a slight breeze and CruiserMel woke up with a renewed sense of well being and purpose.

I was left alone most of the day at work, which surprisingly did not lead me to surf blogs, but rather to actually get some work done. I KNOW!

All was well at the orifice, um 'scuse me, that was supposed to say office, until the 20-yr old son of a coworker came in to do some filing and other sundry chores that we're too lazy to do. Don't get me wrong, this guy is a life-saver who helped me with some important input on the computer a day after I'd returned from surgery. His nimble fingers were just what I needed, since mine were still on Vicodin.

But Wednesday was different. He was still the polite and funny young guy who loves to talk to me about all things music. I always enjoy seeing D.

That is until he saw a picture on my computer of a band and asked who it was. I said it was The Cars. And then I knew what was coming next would either be: 1. Who? 2. Is that Ric Ocasek? Being a cool guy, D did indeed know his 80's music and asked "Is that Ric Ocasek?" I really didn't have time to get into it with him but I heard myself going off on a brief diatribe of "No, that's Todd Rundgren fronting them now, since Ric doesn't tour." (honest, I left it at that one sentence when, if I'd had an adult beverage for lunch I normally would've gone into a 10 minute monologue about the virtues of Mr. Rundgren, but I said my one sentence and left it at there.)

But oh no. D followed me into the file room and started spouting "What's the point?" "I mean, why do these old guys...."

Like the girl in "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights" I reeled around as if to say "STOP RIGHT THERE."

I admit, I did have to lower my reading specs (uh-huh - what of it?) to say "Look - love ya babe, but don't EVER say anything negative about a man who I call Todd the God." I may have even shaken my finger at him. I don't remember. Apparently I forgot to take my Aricept today.

What happened next was priceless. D turned on his sneakered heels, mumbled something about "I guess I could be wrong..."

Score: CruiserMel - one. D - zero. Touche'.

*I have no idea why blogger decided to put paragraph breaks wherever and whenever they wanted to in this post. grrrrr.*

Finding A Hitchin' Post Can Be A Bitch

I've been slacking off lately, haven't I? It's another one of those times where I just can't find my muse. I've looked everywhere, honestly. I've looked under the bed, behind the bookcase, even in the dryer and it seems my mojo has just left the building or taken a vacation.

Lucky muse.

But in an effort to bring you the latest in late-breaking news, this little gem popped up this evening on Yahoo News. Maybe you can forgive me for being lazy since this item does sort of stay in the same genre as Buddy The Donkey. Hey, gimme a break.

BERLIN - An early-morning German bank customer had a bit of a shock when he found a horse already in line at the automatic teller machine in front of him. It seems the horse's owner, identified only as Wolfgang H., had a bit too much to drink the night before and decided to sleep it off inside the bank's heated foyer, police said Tuesday.

The 40-year-old machinist told Bild newspaper he had had "a few beers" with a friend in Wiesenburg, southwest of Berlin, and decided to hit the hay in the bank on his way home.

"It was late, it was already dark and cold," he was quoted as saying.

Confronted with the lack of a hitching-post, he brought the 6-year-old horse, named Sammy, in along with him.

When a customer came across the horse and sleeping rider in the bank at 4:15 a.m. Monday, he called police, who then came and woke the owner up and sent him on his way.

No charges were filed, but there might be some cleanup needed: Apparently Sammy made his own after-hours deposit on the carpet.

Rest assured, dear reader(s?), something whacky is bound to happen to CruiserMel. I'm due.

Jackass

Donkey Has His Day In Court

Dallas: Buddy was at the center of neighbors' dispute
08:38 PM CDT on Wednesday, April 18, 2007
By MICHAEL GRABELL / The Dallas Morning Newsmgrabell@dallasnews.com

The star witness paced outside the courthouse Wednesday, breathing hard, his head down, an American flag bandanna around his neck.

He said nothing to the media swarming around him. He just twitched his huge ears and swatted flies with his tail.

People had accused him of all sorts of things: He was loud. He was aggressive.

He smelled bad, too.

He was there to show the men and woman of the jury that he was none of those things.

"Call your first witness," Judge Steven Seider said.

"Your honor, we call Buddy," attorney Jeff Sandberg replied. "The donkey."

With that, Buddy the donkey came clip-clopping down the black-and-white tile hallway of the North Dallas Government Center, where two neighbors were fighting about his presence in a back yard just west of Preston Hollow.

"Bringing a jackass into the courtroom? Don't y'all see enough of them?" an onlooker asked.

As he got to the courtroom, the 3-year-old, 300-pound donkey paused. But with a quick shove from his owner and a tug on his red rope, Buddy walked slowly to the bench. He stared at the jury.

For several minutes, Buddy held his own. He remained calm. He was polite. He didn't crack under cross-examination and confess. If he had to go, he held it in.

And when defense attorneys challenged whether he was in fact the real donkey in question, he didn't blink an eye.

"Your honor, I have no questions," Mr. Sandberg said.

"Nothing from me, your honor," said defense attorney Quinn Chandler.

"The witness is excused," Judge Seider said. Buddy went outside. The proceedings continued.

According to the defendant, oilman John Cantrell, his neighbor – high-profile attorney Gregory Shamoun – started a shoving match with him in March 2006 after he complained to the city about a storage shed Mr. Shamoun was building.

To retaliate, Mr. Shamoun brought Buddy from his ranch in Midlothian to the back yard of his 5,300-square-foot stone-veneer home, he said.

"They're noisy," Mr. Cantrell testified. "They bray a lot any time day or night. You never know when they're going to cut loose."

There was also the manure. "It appeared that it was scraped up and piled on the fence line between his property and mine," he said.

Mr. Shamoun denied that. "One of my heifers had twins," he testified. "When a heifer has twins, when that happens, the second calf will usually die because the mama doesn't have enough milk."

So he had to bottle-feed the calf named Lucy – four times a day.

Buddy – who is used on the ranch to scare off coyotes – came along to serve as a surrogate mother so that Lucy wouldn't have issues when she was old enough to return to the herd. The land is large enough that the city allows certain animals not allowed elsewhere.

"As far as the poop, yeah, they're going to poop," Mr. Shamoun said, adding that his ranch hand cleaned it up three times a week. "It wasn't stacked up next to my fence line."

Mr. Shamoun sued Mr. Cantrell for assault. Mr. Cantrell countersued him for being a nuisance.
The trial lasted three hours. But as the jury went to deliberate, the neighbors settled their dispute.

Mr. Shamoun agreed to buy part of Mr. Cantrell's property. And Mr. Cantrell agreed to withdraw his complaint with the city.

As for the donkey, he can come any time he wants. "The donkey has visiting privileges," Mr. Cantrell said. "I love animals."

Buddy left the courtroom with his head held high.

"Well, you've had your day in court," said his handler, Etienne Grimmett. "Let's go get some coyotes."

....And you know what else? I actually know one of the three jackasses in this story.

CruiserMel: Meme Stealer

I stole this from Just Tug. Yeah, I'm being lazy on this rainy day in Dallas.

Use one word or a phrase for everything…
1. Yourself: strong, resillient, sensitive, good-natured
2. Your family: formal
3. Your hair: has to be blow-dried or heads will roll
4. Your Mother: sweet, frail
5. Your Father: wisest person I'll ever know
6. Your favorite item: iPod and speaker system for kitchen dancing
7. Your dream last night: did I sleep?
8. Your favorite drink: Weller (bourbon) & diet Coke
9. Your dream home: is a clean home (talk about dreaming!)
10. The room you are in: kitchen
11. Your ex: was a wuss
12. Your fear: criminals
13. Where you want to be in ten years: happy and in love
14. Who you hung out with last night: CruiserDog and a Grey's Anatomy dvd
15. What you’re not: a rock star, yet
16. Your best friend(s): E, Merv, L, K, CE, S, B
17. One of your wish list items: maid service
18. Your gender: female
19. The last thing you did: franchise tax form for my neighborhood association
20. What you are wearing: Yogi Bear sleep pants and a tshirt
21. Your favorite weather: warm, preferably with a light Caribbean breeze
22. Your favorite book: "The Pilot's Wife" by Anita Shreve or "The Shining" by Stephen King
23. Last thing you ate: carrots and Ranch dressing
24. Your life: *sigh*
25. Your mood: quiet, sleepy
26. The last person you talked to on the phone: credit card customer service guy
27. Who you are thinking about right now: T
28. Your best friend(s): wasn't this #16?
29. Your car: needs washing
30. What you’re doing at the moment: laundry and watching tv
31. Your summer: concerts baby!!!!
32. Your relationship status: are you kidding?
33. What’s on TV: Larry King
34. The weather: rainy, dreary
35. The last time you laughed: this evening at Sanjaya's hair

Now, I'm tagging all of y'all - you can pick any or all of the phrases and apply to yourself. Come on, we might all learn sumpin.

I Could Really Go Off On A Rant Here

You would have to be living under a rock to not be aware of the awful tragedy that occurred today on the campus of Virginia Tech. Some nutball shot up the place and ended some promising lives. And ended his own eff'd up life.

This just gets all over me like a cheap suit. I'm outraged! I'm furious! But you don't see me shooting up the place.

If you're bent on offing yourself or are relatively sure that once you've done your deed that a police officer will see to it that you are issued instant justice, just off yourself and be done with it. Don't front off and take others with you!

Bastard.

Post-Op Pics

CruiserMel, blogger, a woman barely able to move her elbow following many cross-country treks in search of rock and roll and cute boys. Gentlemen, we can rebuild her, we have the technology. We have the capability to make the world's first bionic blogger, or at least one who can schlep her own luggage. CruiserMel will be that woman. Better than she was before. Better. Stronger. Faster. Funnier?


Yes, o ye faithful - I am making good on my promise to reveal photo documentation of my recent radial nerve release surgery. These pics are not for the very squeamish. Nay, not even really for the not-so-squeamish.


But you asked for it and ye shall receive. Here ya go, you sickos.

Here is my pre-op freckled and un-swollen elbow 8 days ago.....before Dr. McHottie got his lusty hands on me.

This photo shows what I've had to look at for the past 7 days. And it's been a miserable existence. Not being able to bend at the elbow has really cut into my drinking ability. Or maybe it's just the Vicodin that cut into my alcoholism. We may never know.

This is the foam cube thingy I have shared my bed with for the past 7 nights. We've grown quite fond of one another. He's squishy and snuggly and we can't keep our hands off of eachother. But we don't take it out in public. We're modest that way.

How'd this get in here? Oh yeah, I needed a cute boy to look at. Maybe you do, too since the ugliest of ugly is fast approaching.

And here's what Dr. McHottie did to me. Oh, the Versed was divine, but if I find out his home address, he's got some 'splainin' to do. My modeling career is over.

And that ladies and gentlemen, is what you've been clamoring for. Seriously, be careful what you wish for next time. I have a digital camera and I'm not afraid to use it.

Signed,

The Bionic Blogger

Twilight Sleep

hiya kiddos, it's me, the one-armed doped-up slug. please forgive the lack of proper spelling and punctuation, but typing was taught to me using both hands, not one, and old habits die hard. i know you asked for before and after pics, but since my arm is masked by a cast of some sort right now, it's rather dull. wouldn't you rather wait for the unveiling (and thus the gore)?

thought so.

let me tell you something.....gather 'round.....versed. (prounced ver-sed') versed is one of man's greatest inventions in the world of medicine. and my anesthesiologist, chris? he's the second greatest invention in the world of medicine. i love that man. i love him so much that i announced it to at least five nurses and doctors as they wheeled me into recovery wednesday, but only after i professed that my surgeon is the hottest doctor in the world - to his face. he said he would be sure to tell his wife, in case she didn't already know. honestly, he beats dr. mcdreamy hands down. did i mention that versed should be used to get info out of terrorists? it's that god. i mean good. hee.

unfortunately, they didn't send versed home with me. or chris or dr. mchottie, either. just vicodin, methocarbamol, and ketorolac. my new friends. they tend to make me throw up, but they've caused me to lose 6 pounds since tuesday, so they're allowed to stay.

the funniest part is this cube of foam rubber that i have to weave my arm through to keep my arm elevated. it reminds me of those robot people in the "i want my mtv" video from the 80's. it's huge and it laughs at me when i have to go to the bathroom. too bad there's no video for that because it should be on television, i'm sure. i'll try to get someone to take a picture of it (the cube) and post next week. it's just too hard to describe.

must sign off for now - time for a pill or two. heh.

oh, before i go - a big ole thanks to all of you who have been nice enough to drop by my little blog and give me tips on painkillers and/or your well-wishes. lucky for you, i'm not on versed right now because i'd profess your hotness in public for certain.

wait, you'd like that, wouldn't you?

thought so.

But What If I'm Not Coherent Enough To See Sanjaya Ousted?

Hiya folks. It's Tuesday night and I'm looking at my elbow with a wistful, longing look. My flawless, but freckled skin will be swollen and probably black & blue this time tomorrow night.

Yup, CruiserMel is going under the knife tomorrow. And I'm a little uneasy because they said they don't plan on putting me under. Dammit. Oh, he says he's going to make me "feel funny and talk even funnier," but seriously - I have to stay alert?

WTF?

I'm being punished for letting my tennis elbow go on wayyyyy too long back in 2004. Back then, I did the physical therapy route (and had a ferocious crush on my therapist - is that normal?), did two rounds of steroid shots in the joint, but eventually had some surgery to fix the problem. They must have used chopsticks to do it, because all I had to show for it was two little scars that look like cigarette burns.

Then this year, perhaps flared up by my cross-country pursuit of rock & roll and thus schlepping luggage around, I found myself back in the doctor's office for yet another steroid shot. Yeah, it worked - for a whole 10 days.

After more tests and my own griping about "but it hurts!" they realized that it wasn't the original tendonitis (tennis elbow) that was giving me fits, but a pinched nerve. They won't use the chopsticks this time - oh no, they're using ginzu knives (maybe I'm making that part up...). Either way, my pretty little elbow will be scarred for life.

See? I told you it hurt!

So - I will not eat nor drink anything after midnight tonight. Not even bourbon or Triscuits. I will roll out of bed in the A and head for the hospital where I will be poked, prodded, and hacked away at in a region of my body that has given me grief for way too long. I will be sent home with an array of pain-killers which will probably spawn a creative streak never before seen, yet I won't be able to do a thing about it.

Because, in typical CruiserMel style, I didn't ask some really important questions like: How long before I can blog again? How will this affect my "art?" What, no blogging??????

So, kiddies, I will do my very best to give you a report as soon as I can - but it might be one-handed - and thus in code. I hope y'all don't forget about me. I certainly won't forget about you! (except while I'm on pain-killers)

Please keep checking back, pweeze? I promise something by the weekend - if only the before and after photos.

Stay tuned!