Knife In The Lung

A couple of days ago I discovered I had a terrible pain in my jaw. When I closed my jaw, my upper and lower teeth didn't match up very well. Yawning was right out, and a couple of times I bit down wrong and my jaw slid to one side causing me no end of pain.

The next day I discovered I could not turn my head to the right. When I tried to do so, I pulled a muscle in my chest that I mentally thought of as "a knife to the lung." It was a sharp pain that started right about in the center of my chest and headed right. So: no turning, no deep breathing.

At the movie last night, I sat in an uncomfortable position (basically trying to hover -- see below) and at the end of the movie was completely stiff. No turning to the left or the right.

This morning I could use my jaw again, but the chest pain is still there. I always take pains like this lightly, usually thinking of them as "the first signs of my doom."

The movie we went to go see, with Brent and Therese, was Spawn, and we went to the Universal CityWalk Multiplex.

I am never going to the Universal City Theaters again. Ever.

For one thing, it seemed like gang city. Not only was it wall-to-wall people (the CityWalk always is), but it was wall-to-wall kids wearing baggy clothes and various arrangements of single colors. As always, lots of Raiders and Rockies garb. You may think that's overreaction, but when the theater finally opened to let us in, security guards appeared on both sides of the line. Nice.

The other thing is, the theater was filthy.

I know movie theaters have stopped collecting crap between shows, but this was ridiculous. The row we sat in (the show was sold out, so there wasn't a lot of moving around once we spotted 4 seats together) had something on the floor that looked like vomit. I managed to put my feet somewhere other than on the vomit, but my shoes just kept sliding on whatever else was down there.

The movie was stupid and cartoony, of course. Much like the comic book, except the HBO series is better. A little John Leguizamo as the evil, foul-mouthed Clown went a very long way, and there was a lot of John Leguizamo. Martin Sheen poured ketchup on the scenery and started chewing. Michael Jai White may or may not have been okay, but we couldn't see him for most of the movie through all his makeup anyhow.

The worst part was the climax (or, in modern movie parlance, the battle before the final battle) of the battle in Hell. You couldn't tell what was going on.

DB Sweeney is still cute though. Bring DB Sweeney back to the TV where we can keep an eye on him!

Fernando came over today. His mission, should he have chosen to accept it (he did), was to help Darin be a Real Guy and install racks and shelves in our garage.

He wanted to be home by 5pm for Nancy, when she got off of work. I told him he should dress in Saran Wrap and be waiting with a martini. "Sounds good!" Fernando said. "I'm going to go home and do that right now."

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

1 mile jogging, 1 mile walking, in 90+ degree heat (at 6:30pm). I suck. I have no VO2 capacity. I'm going to be fat forever.