Day #33: Another Day of Blech – Except for Expendables 2

 

So yesterday was a pretty good day. No real stomach issues, and I ate a hearty lunch. I missed Bikram because of that work meeting – as I suspected, it ran over by a bit and I was too late to make the last class. That wasn’t such a big deal, though, because The Man and I headed out to watch The Expendables 2. AWESOME! I have a serious soft spot in my heart for Stallone. I just lust for Statham. Jet Li is a serious bad ass. Everybody else was pretty cool – even massively evil bad guy Jean Claude Van Damme. Oooh, he one BAD MAN! There were some gaps in the storyline. I saw at least one funny mistake that they didn’t catch in the editing room. But who the hell cares? It was amazing! They killed like 5 million people in the course the movie. In the first Expendables, the ‘good guys’ killed 1,593. This movie had at least triple that – probably way more, but I can’t find the count right now. That doesn’t count kills by the bad guys, which now that I think about it, weren’t that many but were either impactful or straight up plot points when they occurred. Anyway, I’m not here to write a review – just to say that if you need a mindless movie with hot older guys being incredibly physical and hunky, and you also happen to like watching shit get blown up…this is your film.

After yesterday’s great day, I was sure I’d also wake up fine today, but instead I awoke from a nightmare about being mugged (by ZZ Top, no less) into a strange physical sensation that is much like what I imagine the characters in the Alien franchise feel right before a baby alien pops out of their chest. I thought I might be having a heart attack, then I realized it might be heart burn, so I took a bunch of Tums and attempted to go back to bed. Then I realized that the sensation was now moving down my intestinal tract, where it stopped feeling so much like a burning pressure and began to feel like I was being stabbed by hundreds of Lilliputians. Fucking Lilliputians. Of course, my brainiac solution was to eat a sandwich – for some reason, sick Maus always thinks it’s a good idea to try to drown out pain with a sandwich (and sometimes soup, or mashed potatoes). That added to the twisty, stabby, awful pain in my gut, but now I’ve also taken some gas medicine and it’s also doing nothing, so all I’ve got left is to go to work, sit through several meetings, and try not to scare anybody with my “Help, there’s an alien about to explode out of my large intestine!” face. Fuck you, food poisoning. Yes, I know that I normally do not curse on this blog (I’m scared that my grandmother is reading – and if so, Hi Grandma!), but I just feel like shit today, and so I’m taking it out on the internet before I accidentally scare my coworkers with anything other than an alien baby.

OK, going to work to frighten clients now.

XO!

 

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