who dat? contest.

(yo stee. i know
who dat?)

todd solondz. director. wacko. welcome to the dollhouse. happiness.

first correct answer:

sarah campbell

pound. pound. pound.

I count my lucky stars, for I have remarkably few health problems.

However, I did have an experience yesterday which made me thankful for the fact that my life so far has been relatively doctor-free.

I had to deal with the H.M.LimbO.

What happened was pretty minor in terms of some of the horror stories I've heard. Additionally, I don't have a whole lot to say about the whole health care system other than the fact that I feel bad for us, the patients, yes, but feel almost worse for doctors, who now have to deal with more red tape than ever - who have to deal with patients constantly asking them about finances.

Sucks for us. Sucks for them.

Who does it not suck for?

Well, what happened was this: I had a check-up a few weeks ago. Everything fine. No cooties. But doc was looking at this mole and suggested I have it removed. I was hip to the idea, even though it wasn't really bothering me and cosmetically was not much of a deal. So he gives me a referral to a surgeon and we set up a date.

So yesterday I head down and get into the little room. The thing is on my hip and I figured I'd get a shot, pull down my pants, lie down, snip snip, sew sew, and be on my merry way.

So the doc walks in and asks, "What is going on with you?"

Um... I figured he would know, that there would have at least been some sort of exchange of information between the two docs, but apparently not. So I explain. Then I show him...

Oh, that's just a ______, you do not need it removed.


I was sent down here to have it done.

It is not medically necessary.


We could do it, but your insurance would not cover it.

Yeah, I see, but...

Listen, you do not understand. You have this. You can have it removed. You will however have to pay for it.

But then why did my doctor send me down here?

I do not know. (Leaving) Nice to meet you.

So I head back to work, having wasted my time, not to mention my ten dollar co-pay.

I didn't even have health insurance a couple years ago, and only decided to finally shell out for it myself when I nearly fractured my foot and had to limp around for weeks without being able to see the doctor. And shit, I am glad I don't have to use my fairly expensive health care much, I just wish there would be some sort of consensus as to my care.

Want to feel like an ass? Join an HMO.

And while I am pretty healthy, (hopefully not smoking will only contribute to that), I do at the moment have a raging fucking headache. I don't get them often, like some unfortunate people I know, but when I do... ouch.

Often I give them to myself by allowing something to bother me more than it should (external stimuli like nosie), but other times they sneak up on me, like Rosie O'Donnell on a package of Sno-Balls. Here are some things that can bring one on. Mostly, unavoidable for me)...

Drinking too much.
Drinking too much coffee.
Chewing too much gum.
Sitting right by the fucking LAN room with IT guys running in and out all day.
My neighbor's house music.
BFT's (Big Flaming Temp) current Whistle Pop Concerto.
Reading in the car.
Reading The Red Tent.
Rewriting scripts.
Extreme hunger.
Exercising too much.
The tonal quality of Matchbox 20, Puff Daddy, Mariah Carey, Third Eye Blind.
Having to explain anyone to someone who just is not getting it.
Mexican Bottle-Man who woke me up again this morning going through my recycling.
Smoking too much used to give me a headache. Now not smoking does. I can't win, people.


..a friend and I were talking about a movie last night that we were surprised to discover we both not only loved, but actually own a copy of. Electric Dreams. With Bud Cort as the voice of this computer who falls in love with his owner's chickie and starts causing all sorts of problems. I really thought I was the only one who dug this tortured and outdated (what movie about technology isn't within a year?) little movie.

Anyone else love the thing like we do?

The Corin "Corky" Nemec Happy Song Corner

I'm just an average man with an average life. I work from nine to five, hey, hell, I pay the price. All I want is to be left alone in my average home. But why do I always feel like I'm in the twilight zone. I always feel like somebody's watching me. Who's playing tricks on me? I always feel like somebody's watching me. When I come home at night I bolt the door real tight. People call me on the phone, I'm trying to avoid. But can the people on TV see me or am I just paranoid... speaking of which. Don't you hate it when you're on set and you're hanging around, right, and then you feel these eyes on you, and you look... and it's the fucking extras? Hell, I pay the price, why don't they get their stupid SAG vouchers and keep their eyes to themselves. You know? Am I crazy here? I mean: please.
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