The Continuing Saga Of Jack Christ Messiah In Waiting

Episode 15 The Spanish Mission



mi padre es el Espíritu Santo
my father is the holy ghost
mi padre es el Espíritu Santo
my father is the holy ghost
mi padre es el Espíritu Santo
my father is the holy ghost

Jack sat in the back of the bus listening to The new Spanish language CD He Picked up on clearance at CVS, the one with the chubby kid behind the photo counter, not the Gay CVS downtown.

"MI PADRE ES EL ESPIRITU SANTO", "MI PADRE ES EL ESPIRITU SANTO", Jack bellowed out to his the strangely side-leering fellow passengers.

mi hermano habla demasiado
my brother talks too much
mi hermano habla demasiado
my brother talks too much
mi hermano habla demasiado
my brother talks too much

Not being a stranger to side ways glances Jack caught on quickly and quietly repeated, " mi hermano habla demisiado".

The bus lurched to a halt with a screeching of tires and a throwing about of young mothers, teenagers, drunkards, and a selection of the less vehiclized of the cities denizens.

Climbing from the bus the portly, badly groomed, and rather pungent driver ran past the screaming and until recently stroller-pushing mother, dropped down onto his curvy belly to investigate the badly twisted umbrella stroller caught up under the front of his bus and scratched his head. No baby!

The screaming mother stood staring at the plumber's crack of the driver and sobbing gushed,
" Where the hell is my baby".
With no sign of the baby beneath the bus the driver got up and started looking around to see if the child had been thrown clear or was dangling from the front of his bus.
"How the hell should I know I just drive the bus, I don't watch for flying babies", the bus driver scratching his head walked to the sidewalk and flopped down onto the curb with a loud "humph"
"Well you'd better damned well find him!" the child's mother screamed as the police sirens began to close in on the increasingly strange accident.

Jack holding a small wiggling bundle got up from his seat and walked to the front of the bus and down the steps, handing the child to his mother he repeated, "Mi padre me entregó el bebé. then went on about his business, still listening to his CD.

Hungry, always hungry since his Padre sent him down into this gooey, hairy body Frank was always hungry and a little sad, so off to look for food he went. Turning the corner Frank saw just exactly what he had been looking for walked in the door up to the counter and repeated "Dos tacos blandos y Mountain Dew, por favor."

His mission complete Jack sat down to eat his tacos and smiled sweetly at an old couple not long for this Earth.

Port Chuck, Tea Parties, and Barbecue

Being a huge fan of the Soap Opera General Hospital (I named my sons Luke and Spencer) I of course had to get Diana and I tickets to see the band Port Chuck, made up of four guys from the GH, at Universal Orlando. Slowly but surely this as all things became a Colucci Family + Caravan of hilarity as First my oldest sister and mother then my "brother" John joined in which is great because then John can drive.


The best thing about John driving is watching my mother trying to climb into his bigger than big truck, this would be easier with a stool but is funnier with me lifting her up like lifting my malamute Chewie up onto the our bed while commenting about how big my boner is. You see mom is a youthful 70 something, I don't always know my age without doing the math so don't expect me to know anyone else's. Anyway digress is my middle name, well really its Raymond which was my dad's name but he is dead so I guess its not his name anymore. Damn back on track!

OK, back on track, as we near Orlando we decide to get dinner at a great BBQ place that serves 3lb buckets of meat at a destination called Rt 42 or 46 or something like that. As we pull up we see 40,000 cars in the parking lot, well maybe 200 and signs that a Tea Party Event was in full swing. I know, I love tea too in fact a good cup of double strong Earl Grey sounded perfect right then. pulling into the parking lot we asked one of the guys in the golf carts if he thought the restaurant was busy. Woot no, so park we did. Time was running short but Herman Cain was in attendance and I am a huge fan, I mean this guy ran Burger Kings and Godfather's Pizza as well as the National Restaurant Assoc. and one of the branches of the Federal Reserve, a guy I can believe in and who knows something about the backbone of this country, SMALL BUSINESS. Anywho, Carol (sis) got to shake his hand, she butted in while they were trying to set up his interview for local TV, she is that way. I didn't get to shake his hand but got to cheer, mostly by myself during his interview in a hope he would hear me and sweep me up in his campaign bus and drag me across the country to cheer behind him during interviews. I could be good at that. Well since I didn't get a handshake I licked the handshake of Carol's hand and haven't washed my tongue since. Dinner becomes less important so I won't mention it except to say the 5 of us shared two buckets of BBQ which was awesome.

On to Universal, I probably should have brought a wheelchair that was way too much for me and I payed for it for 5 days in bed with the worst syncope event yet lasting over 5 minutes. The concert was great and Carol acted like she was watching the Beatles in 1963 screaming and crying while I went from crowd to sitting on a stoop so I could black out in peace, then I would get up and go back to the group and be part of the fun.

I want to thank Steve (Jason Morgan) Burton for his wishing Carol Happy Birthday in response to my tweet. Carol turned 50 and in no way looks anywhere near it.

After....... feeling too "drunk" to go any further so maybe soon I will tell more about this night.

Uncontrollable Crying and Oh What The Hell I don't Know

*any italicized comments should always be taken as though they were said by Craig Ferguson*

Good morning class today we will talk about the evolution of the gelatinous tree fungi of Southeast Asia, or to put it more precisely yesterday was great until it sucked!

Anywho Yesterday started out great was having a fun day playing on Twitter, Twitter has the best Angry Birds, and everything was going great.  I even called my mom and chatted.  I know, it's like I was drugged and dragged off and replaced with myself from ten years ago.   That was when everything changed!  On Tuesday for no good reason I went to see a pulmonologist one of my favorite doctors ever Dr. Wahba Wahba.  Being a Pulmonoligist he treated my syncope like a pulmonologist would.  Stating you only cough for two reasons (what the fuck?), he prescribed me something for heartburn which I don't have and THE DEVIL Advair.  An inhaler that looks like you are sucking on a pack of birth control pills really gave me a great feeling of security as to its efficacy. I had had two bad days already on the pill and was feeling the effects of a steroid while feeling as though this was not helping my breathing at all, yet I sucked on.
Suck on young man go into this brave new world sucking on a lavender disk and bravely fight the servants of evil.

I worked out a little in the morning had a nice healthy salad and settled in to watch the rest of ROOTS with the Commentary on.  Slowly I could start feeling it happen I began to get hot and started to feel the dizzies coming on. WHAM! small cough and out I went full blown syncope came to feeling the worst ever, shaking, that dead feeling all over, and the feeling as though I had hit my funny bone over my entire body.  Not only was this the worst post syncope ever it lasted the longest.

Silly me I thought this would be a good time to call my doctor and report this new found hell to him.  That's when I start crying and I don't mean a tear of sadness and woe swept down my cheek to come to rest below my nose as though Bambi's mother had just died, this was full on what the fuck they cancelled Sports Night Crying.  I mean uncontrollable unconcievable mind numbimg sobbing, and the best part I didn't fell any reason to cry.  It was like a switch was flipped that is when the nurse got on the phone, "calm down and got to the ER".  Yay an ER visit.  I called Diana still sobbing and told her to get home and take me to the ER.   Off we went as my eye and mouth started feeling droopy on the left side and my speech started sounding funny and my left side began to quake like a california bowl of Jell-o.

By the time we pulled up to the ER I had started to feel a bit better but still felt weak on the left side walked in and said I think I had a stroke.  That is when they push a clipboard and pen at you and say, "fill this out, while shoving the leg rests of a wheelchair at your calve muscles without warning and order you to, "sit down".   Now it's abouut 45 minutes of waiting followed by taking my name symptoms insurance proof blah blah blah blah.  Back out into the waiting area I go to sit amongst the half bind drunk hobo and the Krumps with their new baby Foghorn Sirencall Washington wailing like a sheepdog in a testicle screw. Yay, I hear my name and get shoved down the hall in the wheelchair that definately is in need of a throwing out, and brought into an exam room.  Treat time Nurse I Spilled a Jug of Urine Allover Myself in the First Five Minutes of My Shift and Everyone Shall Hear Of It, (long name she must be Swahili they are white right?) came into the room and starts hooking my up to IVs, BP cuff, finger dolphin pulse oxi thingee, and sticky ekg leads. Yay more glue the patchy chest hair had finally grown back.  Doctor Mohammed walks in yells at me for not having my story straight, sorry I am a little confused isn't this Sizzler where's my freekin' steak. and after finally being annoyed by me enough wanders off mumbling something about coffee.  Four hours and one CT scan later he comes back mutters something about my CT looking the same as the last one and wanders out.  OK now what wait around until I die or find a nurse to pee on.  I chose wait and in comes the billing chick while I am still hooked up to shit,  "your co-pay is 75 dollars and how will you be paying for that today?" Diana pipes up all perky, "bill us!", and off Billy the Kid goes.

I should know better when you are an unexplained syncope sufferer everyone likes to treat you like you are in the way and crazy, and every doctor has the same story,  "I know what your problem is, I saw it once in a patient when I was studying to be a doctor/plumber/lumberjack in Tikreet/Mumbai/Garden City, just take this, antacid/decongestant/Phillipino black market birth control pill, and it will go away."  Uh, no thanks doc I think you're wrong and that is not the problem.  They just love hearing things like that and a little added it's above your paygrade makes them wander of stuttering in tongues.