I'm a big boy now.

I chose to wear my St. Louis Cardinals baseballs pitching cap today and, as always, it was a good choice. Now I know we've all gone round and round about Cubs vs. Cardinals, Yankies vs. the World, Bradley Braves vs. ISU (ISU sucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), but that's not why I've come to you today. I've come to you today with the facts.

The fact is this: When I wear my St. Louis Cardinals baseballs pitching cap I feel good. I don't get heckled, I don't get into huge arguments, and no one really comes up to me with comments such as, "So, ya think this will be the year?" (Answer: Yes)

As some of you may already know, I used to have a Cubbies baseballs pitching cap back in the day and go sooo much crap every single time I wore it that I finally threw it in my boy Jeffy Lester's (a Cubbie baseballs pitching fan) open car window because I was tired of the hassle. Now this could be a dig on the Cardinals, yes, because who is most likely to give Cub fans the most crap? Probably Cardinals folks, but it seems like just about anyone will raz on the Cubbies baseballs.

So this leads to the question: By wearing a Cubbies baseballs pitching cap, pitching shirt, or pitching bumper sticker does one essentially have their dukes up ready to go? I would like to argue the answer is yes. Now come one, come all I love Chicago. It's a great city. That being said I love St. Louis as well. But there is a defiant Chicago, tough guy (or gal!) mentality that one must not mess with, thus, I don't.

So Cubbies baseballs fans lets just settle the score right now: You bring it upon yourselves when it comes to the heckling. I know, I'll admit, it's probably my fellow St. Louis Cardinal baseballs counterparts (note, not private parts) who are giving you the most crap, which I don't necessarily like, BUT, if you put your nuclear war heads down maybe they'll put theirs down. Deal?

Regardless, I'm wearing my baseballs cap and now have to go to work like an idiot - No one will possibly take me seriously as a nurse with hat head. However, the second I cut all their clothes off they'll have no choice but to take me seriously, even if they did came in for a sore throat.

Happy living!

Times were pretty tight financially as a kid and now that I'm a big boy buying my own things I find there are things I still believe are a delicacy. Take for example the Ziploc bag. I was born and raised on the standard sandwich bags, ya know, the ones tricky as hell for any little kid to fold his sandwich into. I was brought-up to believe Ziploc bags were basically clear gold with a nifty plastic zipper that held my ham and cheese sandwich until lunchtime. Honest to God, to this day every time I use a Ziploc bag I feel guilty.

So what's been going on universe? It's been awhile. I moved - TWICE! Yahoo! I'm an ER nurse and save lives, well, sorta, I guess one time I did, maybe? I got a new watch a few weeks ago and that very next day it was baptized ER style when a young guy pissed on it - Love it. In addition, I was told a few months ago by a 5-year-old that I was, "THE WORST DOCTOR IN THE WORLD!!!" as I started his IV. Hey little friend it hurts my feelings when you stereotype me…jag bag…I personally think it would have been funny if I screamed, “YOU’RE THE WORST PATIENT IN THE WORLD!!!” into his face. I wouldn’t have meant it, but it would have got his attention I’m sure.

I don't know what it is about Chicago but I love visiting the place. I have a confession to make: While staying at my pal Susan Dieschbourg (as once pronounced "Douche-n-bob" over the mic by a pharmacist) I turned on her bathroom radio to listen to see A) What station she had it on (101.9 The Mix!) and to see what it would be like to live in a studio apartment in downtown Chicago and listen to the local pop radio station. It was awesome. I pictured myself taking a shower and getting ready in the morning for work while listening to the new hot song in Chicago then hurrying out to catch the "L". It was really good for me...I did it every time I went to the bathroom which was four times throughout my stay.

I'll tell you what, it's cold in Wisconsin right now: 2 degrees! I guess that's nothing compared to northern Minnesota where it's a cool -16 degrees. I mean, who does that? And to think there are more people north of them. That kind of stuff blows me away universe, blows me away.

Well, I'll probably see you in about 2 years then. Keep it classy and I'll keep it awesome.

Labels: Fresh start

I love rolling with rich people sometimes because it allows me to once again see how one is suppose to converse. Take for example yesterday, I ran into one of Decatur's most affluent persons and had the opportunity to catch up, but during the conversation I was axed something I've never been axed before.

"So, are you involved in any non-profs?"

Excuse me? Non-profs?

I fumbled around and thankfully had done some "non-prof" work, so I said, "Yeah man, I did a run for St. Jude...You? (...I guess?)" He of course had developed his own, which I trust will help him in his campaign for some public office. More power to the non-profs, less to the rich.

I was rolling through Naperville, IL, the other day and had the opportunity to ruin a person's life by running into their Jaguar. Granted, I didn't run into their Jag, that would be psycho of me, but it did cross my mind and I thought of how devastated they'd be. Sure, I would be a bit bummed if someone hit my too tight car, but it wouldn't be the end of me, it would merely be the beginning.

I finally ballzed up and shaved my head - Freagin Marine style. It rocks my world and I feel like a kid in the summertime again. When I look in the mirror I think I look a bit like a skin head, so I just don't look in the mirror much and have gotten as much sun as possible over the past 24 hours. The way I see it is everyone will be a bit shocked and not so much like it at first, but stuff like this grows on people. Before you know it you'll forget that I used to have hair.

Bye for another month or so!

The votes are in: Dave, RN it is. Hi, I'm Dave, I'll be your nurse. When was the last time you moved your bowels?

You know what I don't like, the people who run down the stairs skipping a step as they quickly make their way down. What the heck is the point?

Here. Let me time you Skipper and lets see just how much time you save by skip-a-rooing down those cumbersome steps.

Ready?
Set.
Go!!!!!!!

Skipskipskipskipskipskipskipskipskipskipskipskip - THERE! YOU MADE IT.

Now, lets having you briskly walk down the stairs!
Ready?
Set.
Go!!

Stepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstep - THERE!!!

Okay, the moment of truth...

Shoot, yeah, you do win Skippy. You just saved 2.87 seconds. I think it was a good choice that you almost broke your face and saved a substantial amount of time.

Onto brighter news, goodness, like the switchblade I got to play with the other night! Did you know the Army dishes out switchblades? I had no idea? I actually had no idea they were illegal either, but that's another story...I should have taken the one I saw, it was one of my residents, but he's a soldier and not psycho, so I let it slide.

There are many days I wish I went into the Army. Granted, there are more days I'm glad I didn't, but it crosses my mind on a weekly basis for sure. I'm positive my mother would have to be heavily medicated if I was in the service. (So not joking) You see, The Vic loses sleep and breaks down talking about my buddy Jeff being overseas, let alone if it was me.

I get so stoked to see footage of the medical personnel overseas, rocking out the buff-buzzed look, Army shirt, camo pants and the "Watch me as I kick this effing door in" boots. I understand it's a crap-ton more than just looking cool, but I could not think of more an honor than to care for those guys and gals.

Maybe someday when Bush screws the whole deal up I'll get drafted, as for now I live vicariously through the pictures and Fox News (AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LIGHTS AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH EXPLOSTIONS AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FLASHING AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH DEVISTATION AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH CHILDREN AHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAAHHHHHH NEWS AHAHAHAHAAHAH LAZARS AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FOX NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

I tell you what gets to me, these girls who wear boots with balls flopping all around on them - Not a fan. Typically, not only do these girls have four balls flopping all over their feet, they look like they just killed a small zoo's supply of hairy animals to placed their feet down their throats. OMG, Gamma Phi Beta.

It was fifth grade, his name was Andy and the brother was frail. I don't know how he was so frail, his dad was an ER doc, I mean seriously, how are you a wuss when your dad is an ER doc? Well, "Stat'n'Bonner," as we used to call him, somehow got through. Regardless, we were in elementary school and in the bathroom, so what else would we do besides see how far we could launch the kid who had already broken three bones?

Elementary restrooms always made me chuckle. The following are standard for every elementary restroom: The sound of water dribbling, a faucet leaking scolding hot water (which is not the source of the dribbling sound - gotcha too!), everything was damp, there was a toilet that someone just dropped the hugest deuce ever in and half used paper towels everywhere. So as one can see, what we had on our hands was the perfect scenario to launch our fragile friend.

As we all gathered around I don't know how the teacher didn't come in and bust us up. You know how it was, you'd be taking a leak as Ms. Grunstead had the door wide open yelling at you to hurry it up. Nevertheless, we got one person on each side of Stat'n'Bonner and launched him a good five feet across the damp floor. Bonner over exaggerated everything, so we figured he was just faking it as he mopped up the floor with his cute little clothes, so what the hey, we booked on him. Turns out the dude really broke his arm. What a Nancy...

You know what I want to be? The drummer for a guy like Jack Johnson. Gosh dang, I tell Jeremiah Cox from "The Jeremiah Cox Band" all the time, "You just never know man, you hear people all the time getting Grammy's saying, 'We were living in our parents basement this time last year and here we are...' " I'm holding out man, all I need is a drum set, a basement to put them in and a dude like Jack Johnson to show up at the doorstep that I don't have, other than that, I'm basically trying to figure out what I want to say at the Grammy's.

Being the drummer would be perfect. You have an important roll, but if you have a sore throat or brain fart, no biggy. As far as being swamped by fans, not so much. Sure people would be excited to see you, but they'd go for the lead singer and guitar players before they get to you. The thought of being a big time public figure makes me have anti-ambitious thoughts, but I think I'm going go for this one.

I love watching people doing mindless things, ie, dance, eat, drive, ect...because I wonder what they are really thinking. If I knew how to put words into italics the work "really" would have been italicized, but since I don't, you will not know that it was supposed to be emphasized.

Hop into my brain for a dance in the love train and get into 1/3 of the mind of DB on the dance floor.



First off, welcome to the farm, I'm so glad you could make it into the fields of majestic wonder, it is a place we all like to venture every now and again. As you can see you are in it now, hopefully you come again.

Let's cut to the chase, I'm likely day dreaming about being a trauma nurse or being a flight nurse - Probably the latter. Take for example tonight; myself and Warren Eugene were cutting a bit of rug and I was able to catch a glimpse of a hospital in the distance, which spurred thoughts of being in a helicopter, wearing P.I.M.P. flight nurse suit and a sitting back looking at the lights of a far off town we are about to land in and pull people out of cars and stuff - Da gum dude. While I don't wish someone would drop on the dance floor and need medical assistance, I wouldn't be totally opposed to the idea, though perhaps after some real ER experience under my belt...

Then there was this one time I was at a Dave Matthews Band concert with my former Residential Advisor, Emily Buys, and my good buddy Jeffy Lester and his lovely - Nikki Six with Splenda and two K's, when we noticed a girl was "a bit under the weather." The Sally was drunk and throwing up. No problem, right? Heck no. We were in grass and on a hill - A down hill - A freaking winning combination when it comes to vomit.

As I stood enjoying DMB and the lovely summer eve I thought, "Boy I wish I knew what to do." Had she stopped breathing I'm sure I could have suckered someone into doing some mouth to mouth on her while I pumped her chest, but really I didn't have the slightest idea as to what to do, so I did what anyone would do: I turned around and told her to dear boyfriend (who better have been her dear ex-boyfriend after the show), "Ahh hey man, if you guys need any help I'm a nurse."

Idiot. I could have changed a bed pan if they needed and probably taken an accurate blood pressure. Oh well, she made it through the show and I made out with only a small amount of vomit splattering on my leg.

"OMG, SO DO YOU REMEMBER THE ONE TIME I GOT WASTED AT THE DMB SHOW?!!? THAT AMAZING."

On July 16th, 2007 at 8am, this will be my job.

Visit me in Madison, WI?