Bitchy rant ahead.
So after sitting around in my pajamas all day and feeling like a lout, I finally take a shower and feel a bit better. As much as I loathe personal hygene since it takes 40-50 minutes of my time due to my disability, it does feel nice to be scrubbed and fresh and so on. The guys drop by for Raw, and the quips are a-flyin’, and so on. I’ll do the next paragraph in a smaller font so it takes less space for those who care not about rasslin’…
Raw stinks. I think PW Torch said it best when they noted that we got references to oral sex (male and female), water sports, vomiting, and let’s not forget the shit that passes for wrestling. Welcome to the Brian Gerwitz era; the writing teams have split and Raw, as before, got the short end of the stick. (Smackdown gets Paul Heyman, Lord and Master of ECW, He Whose Talent Was Aped By Vince McMahon and called ‘WWF Attitude’ ten years ago.) It HURTS to see a talent like Tommy Dreamer getting squished, having a gimmick that I can’t even bear to watch without throwing up myself, and tapping out when he hasn’t tapped out ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE CAREER. Dear god, let’s throw the man’s legacy away because Undertaker is so gosh darned awesome and the puking stuff is so gosh darned funny! And don’t get me started on the degrading ‘lingerie match’. …okay, GET me started. Trish deserves better. I’ve come around on Trish since her debut; she started as T&A eye candy (not that I care for implant-heaving blondes) and has developed into a damn good wrestler, better than Lita, even. She deserves mad props. She does NOT deserve to be a sideshow monkey for the mastrubatory fantasies of the sloping foreheads. Argh.
Okay, so I had some Doritos and Pepsi One at 9:00pm. Not bad. Maybe a few more chips than I should have had, but tolerable. Then like a dumbass I go for the slightly stale Pizza-flavored Goldfish crackers and more Pepsi one at 10:30pm. As a result I wake up during the middle of the night ready to vomit (acid reflux, baby!) and needing to take medicene then stay standing/sitting up for 20 minutes while it takes effect, THEN go back to bed for another whip-round of sickness induced nightmares. My nightmares are awful. Rather than ‘I’m scared!’ nightmares, I tend to have ‘I’m angry!’ nightmares where the me-character (rarely actually ME) is put into an intolerable situation, is not happy with it, and can do nothing about it. I won’t go into the details but let’s just say that being a creative writer really, really sucks when your imagination works against you.
Woke up 20 minutes late — resigned myself to arriving late to work. After dodging two construction crews in my own neighborhood I got stuck in viciously evil traffic that centered around two spots of mile-long backups due to road accidents. Arrive at work incredibly late, horrify my co-workers by looking pale and sickly and tired, then tell my boss I gotta leave early to catch Josh’s opera tonight. Thankfully my bosses are HIGHLY understanding of such problems, so that goes over just fine.
And that’s how today started. I can only pray it does not get worse from here. Rant mode off. I need a hug.