My favorite wrap

No...I'm not writing hip-hop again.

When I go to the crapeteria, I lately have been getting a hummus wrap.

Behind the wrap station and the wrap star who makes them, there's a new sign. It's misspelled as a "humus" wrap.

I didn't have the heart to tell them. No, actually, I think it's funny so I didn't tell them.

Some gardener will, I suppose.

I feel so special

I'm taking Zithromax because Dr. Kwabena Owsu-Dekyi gave me some.

The package says it's a very well tolerated drug, with little side effects. Less than 5% of those taking the drug experience diarrhea.

That makes me feel very special. I knew that someday I'd be an over-achiever in something.

Thanks for listening. I've got the runs. Uh...I mean, I've gotta run.

Mickey Goes To The Doctor

Today I went to the doctor. I haven't been to the doctor in 5 years.

But, I woke up this morning and I was surprised to discover my eyes were glued shut.

Instantly, I thought to myself "who glued my eyes shut?". I thought it might be my roommate. But, oops, I remembered I wasn't in college and no one plays pranks like that on me anymore.

I managed to wipe off some dried eye-goo, open my eyes and look in the mirror to discover they are blood red. Since I hadn't taken any overnight plane flights I figured it was somehow related to the cold I have had for the past 6 days. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention; I had a cold for like...the past...6 days. I treated it by promptly ignoring it and training hard on my bike. I think that's what most doctors would recommend. Well, maybe 4 out of 5 doctors would say I should rest. But, I appreciate that 5th rebel doctor who doesn't recommend Crest toothpaste and who says you should ignore a cold and pretend it's not there.

I went to work and I knew people were noticing my beet red eyes. Wanna know how I knew? They were making the Catholic "sign of the cross" at me and walking away from me really fast. I figured it was time to break down and schedule a doctor's appointment.

I have a friend who is a physician. His name is Dr. John Sawvel. He speaks English goodly and is also a personal friend. You should go see him because he's really nice. Only go see him if you live in Dayton. He's good, but he's not that good. He's also not available until 9am tomorrow. So, don't go right out and see him right now because he's busy. I figured I should get into the doctor as soon as possible because I am walking around with "Satan eyes" and scaring children. I asked for someone who I could see right now. Instead, of Dr. Sawvel, I got (I'm not making this up)...

...Dr. Kwabena Owsu-Dekyi. I just read that off the prescription.

I told my boss I had to leave early and I headed straight out to meet Dr. thing-I-just-said. He was nice. He greeted me and shook my hand. Red flags went up in my mind "This doctor thinks it's safe to touch my germ-infested hand" but I gave him a chance and he seemed very friendly and very knowledgeable and most importantly, he found the digital rectal exam to be completely unnecessary. I told him I needed red-eye removal and asked him if he could Photoshop it out.

He told me I had conjunctivitis. Because I am very well-informed and a student of human health, I know that this is a condition caused by inflammation of the conjuctiv. He gave me some prescription eye drops which have the oh-so-catchy name: Bleph-10. Sounds like some sort of planet on a science fiction show, doesn't it?

"Captain, set your coordinates for Bleph-10, we must try to escape the rhino viruses!"

I have now tried my first dose of Bleph-10 and I can say with complete confidence:

"Ouch!"

That's because Bleph-10 stings your eyes like a hoochie-mamma.

Dr. Thing-I-said also gave me some Zithromax. This is a pill. I haven't taken any yet but I am thinking I should. I don't wanna show off, but I also know that Zithromax is the best. After all, it's the max amount of Zithro you can find.

Now I am sitting here, typing this and not looking forward to my next dose of Bleph-10.

"Bleph!"

I'll keep you posted.

Thanks for listening.

Sincerely,

Mick Kenobi
Master of the Redi Knights

Somebody Owes Me

US military investigates stealth bomber crash

CANBERRA (AFP) — The US military was investigating on Saturday after a B-2 stealth bomber crashed on take-off from the Pacific island of Guam, the first such incident involving the futuristic craft.

Both pilots on board ejected safely as the 1.2-billion-dollar radar-evading plane, with its distinctive triangular shape, went down at Andersen airbase on the remote island, the US air force said.


So, let's see...

1.2 billion dollars divided by 117 million taxpayers = $10.25

That was a couple of pints (including a small tip) that went down in flames. On Tuesdays at Fox & Hound, it's 3 or 4 pints.

That's a lot of money, Guam-Dammit!

Cod Killa'

The purpose of this blog is twofold:

1) Show the world that I am talented enough to write hip-hop

2) Express my love for fish this time of year. Seriously, I love fish. I have all my life.

So... *thump thump thump thump* ...M.C. Michael Cycle is in the Houuuuuuuuuuse!

Bloop...bloop...bloop...bloop...

*drum fill*

Yeaaahhhhhh...now put your fins up in th' air
and swish 'em around like you're fresh-caught fare
'cus lent is the time of year
when I be snatchin' up salmon like a big brown bear!

Cus I'm a Cod Killa', Cod Killa'
Batter dip, fry and sprinkle malt vinega'
Cod killa', thank God it's Fry-day
Cus baby Fish stick time is the highlight 'o my day!

I'm headed on down to Catholic church
for the semi-annual fish fry
For days I been dreamin' 'bout some perch
and hangin' with my homies while I'm rollin' that die

Cus I'm a Cod Killa', Cod Killa'
My breath be stinkin' like I was Godzilla
Cod Killa', get outa my way
cod liver f***in' oil be my source of Vitamin A!

I don't matter how you prepare it
I'll eat any damn thing in the sea
But sorry Charlie, I don't share it
Don't deprive me of my omega-3!

Cus I'm a Cod Killa', Cod Killa
I'm downing that shit with the wafers of 'da Nilla
Cod Killa', don't be no fool
You ain't got the caviar to swim in my school!

*synthesizer riff*

Yo!, Take the skin off y'all, M.C Michael Cycle sayin' peace out.

*fadeout*

I Didn't Get Invited and I'm hurt! Ok, I'm Better Now.

Senator John McCain Holds Event at Sinclair

Sinclair Center was the host site this afternoon for a private event for Republican presidential candidate Sen. John McCain and area supporters. The by-invitation-only event was a stop on McCain’s campaign trail to gain additional support in Ohio prior to the upcoming March 4th primary. Despite repeated invitations, the Senator’s tight campaign schedule prohibited him from greeting Sinclair students, faculty and staff in a larger, public forum.

Last week, Chelsea. This week, McCain. You gotta love being a swing county in a swing state.

Actually...no, ya don't.

My office is on the third floor right above where all this stuff usually takes place. Years ago, Jesse Jackson was outside and I knocked on my window really hard and he looked up at me and I made a funny face at him. If that isn't leaving your mark on the world, I don't know what is.

Today, I saw McCain's bus "The Straight Talk Express" outside and I was watching for him to get out, so I could do my signature "knock on the window trick". But, he must have already gone inside.

Or, maybe he couldn't leave the bus's bathroom because he forgot to take his Flomax.

I dunno.

Toaster Week Toasted Me

Holy Cannoli, I just had one of the worst races of my life.

Today, I almost finished Shabobele, which is the first race of the year on one of the most brutal courses of the year. The winner of Schabobele gets an engraved Toaster. That's because there's a huge-azz hill on it which is about a mile long. It earned itself the nickname: "The Toaster", ostensibly because it...toasts you.

Wednesday night, I went down to Cincinnati to see my favorite ska band, which are called The Toasters.

Coincidence?

Yes.

And unrelated to this story. But, I had to throw it in there because of the whole "Toaster" theme.
No, actually, maybe related because I drank too many beers Wednesday and so bod didn't take to riding very well at the end of this week.

* Oops, I digress, back to the race stuff *

I chose the category 1/2/3 race instead of the category 3/4 race because I am doing a week long stage race in June called the Tour Of Ohio and I must get used to the competition of riding with the cat 1 pros.

And, I'm dumb.

We rolled out today and people were feeling racey. I was already feeling moderately toasted so I hung at the back. Up "The Toaster" the pack exploded and I grabbed whatever wheel I could hold on to. Then, it started raining, hard. I'm now all covered with road grime and wet and my legs are screaming "Poopie!". Not fun. But I can handle not fun. Because, life's mostly, not fun.

So, I'm sitting like 15th or so and I notice John Murdock had flatted. As I rode by, I threw him my pump and a spare tube. I thought that was really nice of me, until I flatted 7 miles later and had nothing to fix it with.

Duh.

I rode my flat tire slowly for about 2 miles to my car. I quick got in my car and threw on a spare wheel I brought. My teammate Kyle had also flatted and was fixing his. He said he'd catch me. So, I rode on spunkily trying to salvage somewhat of a finish.

About 20 miles later, I flatted again. Rear wheel this time. I rode another couple of miles until one of the race volunteers was nice enough to pick me up. This made me mad as poop and my day was over.

The road down there was treated with cinders. As it turns out, half of the field flatted, lots dropped out. My teammate Kyle? He flatted again and also dropped out.

Two years ago, I bonked and didn't finish Schabobele. Last year it was 22 degrees and I chickened out. This year I flatted twice and quit.

I'm not sure if it's racing in February, or if it's Schabobele. One of them blows. Maybe both.

Maybe I should have just stayed home...

...and stuck a butterknife in a toaster.

Sheesh!

More errant text messages

I have the worst cell phone service in the world; Virgin Mobile. Using it feels about as uncomfortable as being a virgin. But, I don't have to commit to anything except like sending them $20 every 90 days. So, it works if my car breaks down, well, as long as I break down within a 50 foot radius of a cell tower.

One of the perks are the random, errant text messages. You might remember last time, I made a friend named Molly. Well, whattaya know, I had another random encounter today while I was driving to work!

Here's a word for word transcript:

Stranger: Hey you what the **** is up <(.B.r.e.)>

(except instead of "****" she said a bad word)

Me: I have dry skin on my face, that's what's up!

Stranger: Well hot damn. I am very pregnant thats whats up with me. Your bff and i were just wondering how you have been <(.B.r.e.)>

Me: Congrats on being pregnant. At least you are very pregnant instead of just pregnant. That means you tried really hard!

Pregnant Stranger Lady: Ha not really just having a really hard pregnancy in and out of the hospital alot. <(.B.r.e.)>

Me: No fair! I can't say anything funny to that!

Pregnant Stranger Lady: Its ok we will let it slide this once your bff wants to make sure you have been his number, do you <(.B.r.e.)>

Me: Of course! Where would I be in life if I had not been my bff's number?

Pregnant Stranger Lady: Ha ok good. <(.B.r.e.)>

(two hours pass while I'm in a meeting)

Me: So, happy valentine's day. What's your favorite color?

And that's where we left off.

So, someone tell me:

What's a "bff"?

And did I ask the wrong thing when I asked the favorite color? Is that where I blew it?

* Shucks. *

Happy Valentine's day anyway, pregnant stranger lady.

It's That Time Again...

Yeah, March 4th is the big election here in Ohio.

Keep my feet from dancing.

I really hate election time. Why?

It's not the mudslinging TV ads. I don't watch TV much.

It's not the people who spout all the recycled rhetoric from cable news. I still hold out hope that these folks will someday be sitting in the nursing home and spur a thought of their own.

What bothers me the most is the damn political yard signs strewn about people's yards and the side of the road. They are an eyesore and I'm not sure they serve their purpose.

I guess I just can't picture myself driving down the street and saying to myself "Oh lookie there, the Smedley's have a Mitt Romney sign out in front of their yard! They are such nice folks. I'll vote for Romney just because I like the Smedley's!

And ya know what's the icing on the cake? Nobody takes them down when the election is over! That makes them effectively peices of litter that are propped up by two pieces of metal. I swear there's still a Ross Perot sign at the corner of my road.

If I had some gonads, I'd start my own political movement. I'd bring back "The Silly Party" from the Monty Python skits and post some silly and farcical political ad signs. You could post them right next to the real ad signs and maybe people could get a laugh out of it. That's part of my freedom of speech, isn't it? The freedom to say "Politics is a joke".

You can design your own on www.buildASign.com

Check it out. I made some for you. What do you think of these?






My name is Mick and I approve this message.

Belief-O-Matic

Ever wonder what you are?

I do all the time.

If you're looking for a sexy label to place on your beliefs, allow the Belief-O-Matic to do it for ya by clicking here

The pop-up ads may be a manifestation of the Almighty Creator's desire to give web designer's free will. Or, they could be retribution for unwholesome thoughts and/or deeds carried out in prior lives.

I hope y'all still love me even if Liberal Quakers is high up on my list? Hey! Maybe that explains why I like oatmeal so much!

Mt. Rainier

Hey! I’m flying back to Ohio! I’m missing the Super Bowl. We are flying from Nashville to Columbus. Why do they show us how to use the life preserver in case of a "water landing"? Is there any large bodies of water between Nashville and Columbus? Is there such thing as a "water landing?". I dunno. I have a whole aisle to myself and I’m catching another high-altitude beer buzz. Some guy and his girlfriend were drinking and got into an argument and the flight attendant made him move to another seat. It must be embarassing to be an adult and be put in "time out" in front of everybody. I have a clear path to the high-altitude potty, but no chances for stealing anybody’s nuts. Life is a trade-off sometimes…

Speaking of which, we traded the risk of falling off stuff for stuff falling on us, particularly shit–loads of snow. The highlands of the northwest have gotten hammered with snow for the past couple of weeks.



It turns out that when a steep mountain receives a lot of snow, it wants to sluff off. This only occurs when people are climbing below them. The snow falls on the little tiny people and buries them. It is very difficult to breathe when covered by many feet of snow. More often than not, this causes a condition called “death”.

We avoided death. Yay. The high danger avalanche hazard made it safer, cus nobody made it to the summit any peaks this weekend, unless they were dropped there by a helicopter.

Speaking of helicopters, we climbed some of the base of Mount Rainier with snowshoes. We were trudging through 2-4 feet of snow. In a way, snowshoeing is like cycling. The person in the front must break through the medium you are traversing and does the most work. It was tiring because I’m not too bright and I broke trial a lot. We got up to about 7,000 feet and a place called Panorama Point at the base of Rainier. It’s basically the base of the steep part of Rainier. It snowed the entire time we were there. When we got to the point, we turned around and caught the two foot view of the whiteout conditions and then promptly turned back. Maybe next year we’ll be able to go higher and see more.


I love this corner of the country. It’s starting to beat out the upper right as my favorite corner. I better go now. It’s getting bumpy and I don’t want to spill my beer.

Cheers.

The Plane Truth

So…hey! This is the first time I’ve blogged from 41,000 feet!

Okay. So, I have some weird thoughts about airport security and I need to share because I’ve had three high-altitude beers. Hey, that sounds like a great name for a micro-brew; “High Altitude Beer”. Yeah.

I can bring a pen on board a plane. This is safe. As a matter of fact, I should be using a pen right now to grade papers. For my students, that would not be safe. But, if you do bring liquids, you must put them in a plastic Ziploc bag. I think the Ziploc bag lobby spent some big-league time on Capitol Hill and had some influence on this when they crafted The Patriot Act.

Now, please think with me: If you told me I needed to choose a weapon to board a plane with and I had two choices: a pen or a bottle of aloe vera moisturizing cream, which would you choose? You could stab someone right in the jugular vein with the pen, but with the latter you could only moisturize the skin around the jugular vein.

This all sounds like the beginning stages of a video game, where you haven’t earned enough points to get the cool weapons yet.

Okay, so today I was nervous about the time I had to present my Ziploc baggie full-o’-liquids to the NTA security guy. I’m happy to say, I passed with flying colors! Yay! But the lady in front of me had a one gallon Ziploc bag. Naughty naughty lady! It’s supposed to be a one quart Ziploc bag.

Duh! But, no worries, they swapped her one gallon Ziploc bag out for a one quart Ziploc bag.

*I feel so much safer now*

Like, wow! What if someone would have boarded this plane with a one gallon Ziploc bag? I can’t bear to think of the ramifications. I might have had to drink a fourth high-altitude beer to calm my fears.

Here comes the lightening round because my laptop battery is dying:

The University of Alabama women’s wheelchair basketball team flew on this flight. I shit you not. I saw some of them boarding and some of the got out and walked and pushed their chairs. Maybe they play in a chair even though they don’t have to be in a chair? I have no earthly idea.

I had to pee like crazy about an hour ago. But, I don’t any more. How does that happen? Is my body using my pee for something?

And how is it that the guy next to me is able to sleep the entire time while he’s sitting straight up? I might hate him. Oh boy, I hope he doesn’t wake up and see that I typed that. He’s got a stupid lookin’ hat on too. Hah! Take that, sleepy guy!

I better eat some high-altitude peanuts…to soak up some alcohol.

The sleeping guy’s nuts were on the chair next to me and I grabbed them when he wasn’t looking. I mean his bag of nuts…I mean his bag of honey roasted peanuts. He doesn’t even know he got any because he was sleeping.

See? Ya snooze, ya lose…your nuts!

Bye.