Baby’s got BLOOD — not Back. And no, IT’S NOT FUNNY!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-fVDGu82FeQ

Ya know, my particular “dislike” of monotonous mediatard Wolf Blitzer is rather well known in some circles, so stuff like this just makes my day.

     Whenever I think, “I have no heart,” something always comes along to prove to me that I do.

My immediate thought is always to be skeptical of Internet Chain Letters and such, but with this one, I dug a little deeper and found that it’s totaly legitimate…

Why the one million friends challenge? I get asked the questions, Why 1 million friends? What will it achieve? on a regular basis. So I thought I would try to explain. James and I used to come onto myspace to listen to music and look at the videos just before he was diagnosed and added a few friends.

When James was diagnosed and we came to terms with the fact that his cancer and its treatment was going to take over our lives we needed a distraction and the “James and Daddy” page was born. I asked James if he thought we could get one hundred friends and then one thousand and the ten thousand. When we reached ten thousand friends I asked James to set the next target. James said ONE MILLION.

We will gain nothing financially from this page but have gained friendship from people around the world and we have shared our story with you all and in return shared your stories. This page has helped us as a family deal with the tough times and share the good times. Now as a father I feel I have to achieve this challenge as I made a vow to James the day after he was born that I would never let him down and I would only make him a promise if I could keep it.

So there you have it, the reason for the challenge and why I need you to help me get more friends. We have tried the celebrity route with minor success so all we can do is keep sending out the bulletins and searching out the profiles that have loads of friends and big hearts.

I mentioned a while back, I can’t have kids… Rather, not healthy ones, anyway… I have been using my vaginal dhea cream and I can say I found my peace with all of that a long time ago.
But then again, maybe that’s why stuff like this tears me up so bad… Like it did with Ambriel… Like it does with someone else even closer who went through a bout of it herself (I love you, baby girl, I miss you, and I’m proud of you).

There’s the futility factor, wishing I could do something to make it better, and I can’t…

And then, of course, I see their faces they’re smiling right through it most days.

That…

…is one of the few things that I glean hope from.

And I know damn well that despite everything else, those kids are toughter than I will ever be.

If you’ve got MySpace, be sure and add him as a friend.  Spread the word.  Make a donation.

http://www.myspace.com/bizwiz68

Howdy kids. My daughter called me last night and told and asked me what she should do with Tyler, my lil angel of a grandson. She said he was spiking a bigtime temperature and he couldn’t catch his breath. Turns out he was taking 50+ breaths per minute, which is way too much for a 2 year old.

After spending the evening at the ER, they told us he has pneumonia. Apparently, a kid can go from slight sniffles sans snot and goo to pneumonia in no time flat. So, his right lung is kinda jacked up and he’s taking a shit-pot of munchkin strength anti-biotics and breathing treatments.

Of course, no pneumonia epidemic is gonna get him down. Absolutely not. He was still raisin’ all hell in the waiting room and wasn’t diggin that nurse trying to take his vitals during check-in. It was all over when Natalie tried to strip him down to get him in a sexy, midget sized hospital gown. It pissed him off even more that he was getting a draft on his ass.

Keep my lil angel in your prayers, please. Even though he’s still full of piss and vinegar, pneumonia is an ass-kicker.

So, after the boy’s football game Friday night, I’m tired and I feel just nasty. I was full of Italian Ice, as I had engulfed like 5 during the game trying to cool of. I’d had sweat running from my neck, down my back, directly down my butt crack.

That, my friends, is not a nice feeling.

Even with feeling grody and tired, I still hoped to go home and get a little lovin’ after a nice cold shower. Know what I mean? I think ya do.

But, no.

Why is it that I can never seem to get rid of both of teen-aged-mutants at the same time?

Amanda, my girl, was spending the weekend at Jessie’s (the child that claims me as her other mother).  But, the boy couldn’t stand it; he had to stay home.  Worse yet, he had to stay awake.  So, we get home, I go take a shower and I go to bed…. to sleep.

Hell if I didn’t wake up early, before the boy.  So, I poke Anthony and told him wake up and GET ‘R DUN!!!

Door was closed and I was under the blanket.  I got too hot, so I go and throw/kick/pitch/toss the blanket in the floor.

Well, Anthony’s cell phone was in the livingroom.  His phone rang.  Matthew decided to answer it.  Matthew decided that he would just bust into MY bedroom to tell his dad that Mario was on the phone.

BUSTED!

Sweet Jesus.  Now up until that point in life, I don’t believe anything has ever both made me absolutely furious and at the same time nearly given me a heart attack.

This non-knocking problem we are having is getting a little bit on my nerves.
Admittedly, I am most likely the most sexually natured person I know. I dig it.  I want it.  I just can’t help it.

But even my horns are nipped in the bud, knowing that kid is in the house lurking.  There have been numerous times I’ve just decided to forego play time just because I’d hate to think about anybody else in the house knowing.

GRRR!!!!  Can we say frustrated???

I mean, I swear, I think he has a sixth sense when it comes to knowing if and when we may be even considering having sex.  It’s like he goes that extra mile to keep trying to drive a wedge of any kind between me and Anthony.

Makes me nervous to have anything in my room, let alone my happy drawer.

Then this happened:

So, I get started to get over getting busted by the boy.  And I go outside to start working on the cleaning out of the shed.  This shed is barely a shanty.  It is missing the bottom boards on the walls, so it’s wide open to anything and everything that wants in.

Ok, now there is a reason that shed was in the shape it was in.  I don’t dig going in it and flat refused to go in it for three years.  Not to mention the fact that I’d seen various critters and rodents zipping in and out of there.  *shiver*.

But, the time had come.  We have a week to be getting all of my crap up and out of the house, which means the shed had to be cleaned too.  I get the broom (yes, I wish I had something like the iRobot Roomba vacuums but alas I will have to cope with just a broom for today) , the hair spray and my lighter and head out back where the shed stands.

I stand outside, looking to see what sort of arachnid may be lurking up above my head or down below my feet.  Ewwww!  Dark, scary and spider infested.

So, I finally take the broom, poke it inside the shed and start swingin like a wild woman at whatever might be in my path.  When I didn’t feel that was enough, I took the hairspray and lighter and started blow torching anything that appeared to be an insect of any sort.  The smell of sizzling spiderwebs is a lovely one.

My spider problem apparently taken care of, I forged ahead.  Looking at the piles of shit that were tossed into this shed nearly three years ago when I moved into the house, I decided that if it had been there for damn near three years and not missed, that it wasn’t ever going to be missed.  Rahter than digging through the boxes, I hauled them right out to the bed of the truck.  Locked and loaded for the Knox County dump.

I had gotten most of the crap out, when I thought I heard something.  It was a rustling around sound.  I stopped and assessed what it might be.  I didn’t see anything.  So, I turned around to get another box and IT ran over my foot.

Well, I’ll swear I thought it was a two-foot rat.  After nearly having the second heart attack of the day and hearing IT run into a window thinking it was a way out of the shed, I saw it.  A baby rabbit.

Still when I’m confined in an icky space where I’m already paranoid, I don’t even want the cutest of furry woodland creatures hippity-hopping over my foot.