Monday, August 30, 2004

Screw Atkins. I lost 5 pounds in one week on the "I lost my wallet in Europe" diet. (I was back to 163.5 the day I left.)


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Saturday, August 21, 2004

Europe on 3.47 euros a day

I'm in Europe. Germany, to be specific. During my travels, I was trying to come up with clever insights to blog about. Should I do my standard fear-of-flying entry? No. Should I talk about the difference between Americans and those wacky Germans? No. Instead, sometimes you just have to let fate step in and hand you a story.

I lost my wallet.

Above is my entire financial net worth: 27.81 Euros. I have no ATM card, no credit cards, no travellers checks. I suppose you'd like to know how I lost my wallet, but does it really matter? I lose it all the time. But here's the odd story. I was in a cab paying the driver and trying to open the door, but it was stuck. You know how frustrating it is to try to open a car door while the driver is trying to use the electronic locks? How the driver will hit the button at the exact moment you pull the handle, over and over again? Trust me, it's 10 times worse when the driver is yelling at you in German. Eventually we both accepted that the door was stuck, so I climbed out the driver's side instead. Open wallet, sliding over seats, angry German driver, you do the math.

But Mister P., surely you kept at least one credit card back in your hotel? Shut Up.

I'm on vacation for 8 more days. That 3.47 euros a day. Fortunately, das Hotten Doggens are very cheap.


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Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Why this little piggy cried all the way home

As the computer simulation above demonstrates, I busted up my toe last night. I was running through the living room (I'm always hectic) and smashed my pinky toe against a wall. This morning, I couldn't get my shoe on because of the swelling and sensitivity so I figured I should have it looked at. I know there is nothing doctors can do for a broken toe, but since I am leaving for a week-long trip to Europe on Thursday I figured I was better off making sure it was nothing serious while I was still here.

As soon as the doctor saw my toe, he said "yup, that's broken all right. We'll take some X-rays just to see how bad it is." They sent a kid (and I do mean kid) to zap me. He had a book with him, a textbook as it turns out, and when I told him I smashed my toe he looked up the section on "foot" to figure out how to configure the machine. Great. He told me he was a student and this just happened to be his very first day. Fortunately for me, his tutor stopped by in time to remind him to give me a lead shield before vaporizing me.

When the main doctor saw the X-rays, he said "I don't know how to tell you this, but I can't find any cracks." According to him, I have strong bones so I get all all the pain and swelling of a broken toe without actually any broken bones, but I don't get to play the sympathy card because technically I just stubbed it. Mike says I should still be allowed to call it a broken toe. After all, it's not looking or acting the way it's supposed to.

Doc told me to keep it elevated and iced for a couple of days, then just stay off of it as much as possible for a week. (I can certainly walk, but I'm just not supposed to push it too hard.) I told him "I'm leaving for Europe on Thursday." His reply: "It's gonna hurt." Nothing he can do, nothing I can do. I did get a brand new bottle of Vicodin however, which will certainly help my nerves on the long flight.

If you really want to see the toe, I have a photo of it. Toes are ugly to begin with, and they only get worse when they turn colors. So click the link at your own risk. Go ahead. You know you want to. My "broken" toe.


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Tuesday, August 17, 2004

No hay mas Oreos

I'm a scrawny pencil-neck geek again! Screw Atkins: I lost 17 pounds on the "don't eat that entire tub of frosting" diet.


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Sunday, August 15, 2004


I prefer the Winter Olympics; hardly anyone gets hurt during the summer games. If a skiier crashes at 85 mph going down a slope, you get to see a spectacular wipeout. If a runner trips, you get a scraped knee. The most we can hope for during the summer is that someone will smash their head on the bar/board (thanks Greg).

I mostly enjoyed the openning ceremonies. I liked the flying people and the 3D laser show. But Bjork? BJORK?! Did we learn nothing from the strangled goose? And what was with all the winkies during the ceremony? Somebody call John Ashcroft! We have to protect our children from this smut! From now on, no one under 18 should be allowed to watch sporting events.

Does anyone else find it odd that the gymnasts of today look like the weightlifters of 20 years ago? I don't know what they're feeding kids in Boogavaria these days, but it ain't Ho-Hos and chocolate milk.


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