vituperation

According to Amazon, my book’s sales rank is one million, three hundred twenty-three thousand, three hundred fifty-one. That means that there are over 1.3 million books that have sold better than mine.

Heh.

A handful of people tell me they’ve reviewed the book, but Amazon sure is taking their time reflecting that on their site. Obviously they don’t realize my book should take priority over all the other ones out there.

I was in Dr. Judy’s office earlier this afternoon for my annual physical. Dr. Judy stood behind me with her arm up my ass to the shoulder and another nurse leaned against the wall in front of me, witnessing the incident to make sure Dr. Judy didn’t do anything out of line. As though sticking her arm up my ass could ever be considered in line.

"I sure do like the view from this end," the nurse said, laughing heartily at my expression as I writhed on the table and grimaced in discomfort.

"I’m sure it beats the view from this end," Dr. Judy replied.

I get no respect.

One the cooler side, Dr. Judy told me I was about the most healthy patient she had, and that all my numbers were "disgustingly good."

In addition to a whacked-out judge who’s insistent on forcing his religious views on anyone entering the state judicial building, Alabama’s governor, Bob Riley (a Republican), is also way out in left field. He’s proposed a massive tax increase, some $675,000,000 per year, which would in effect negate the tax cuts we just got from the federal government. Bob Riley is claiming—as politicians always do—that it’s “for the children” and will be used for education.

Yet he refuses to earmark the money for education spending.

What makes it particularly funny is that his own party, in a 122-100 vote, has voted against the tax increase, while the Democrats are voting for it. Here at Casa And3rson we’ll be voting a definitive “no.”

Robyn and I went for a drive last night throughout the county, and I noticed something very unusual. Without fail, the higher-income locations had “vote yes” (”Let’s do the right thing!”) signs everywhere, and the more depressed areas, whom you would expect to benefit the most from such a large governmental money-grab, had “vote no” (”We’re taxed enough as it is!”) signs posted everywhere.

I’m still voting no.

I love my wife, lots. I’m not all moony about my love, though, because if you walk around being ga-ga in love all the time you’ll never get anything accomplished in life. From time to time, however, I’m swept away by my love for her, and I experienced one such moment last night.

I honestly can’t even tell you what triggered it, this overpowering emotion, but it happened right after I’d been standing behind her holding her left hand in my left and one of her butt cheeks in my right. She thought I was holding her left hand down to keep her from smacking at me with it, but I was actually holding it just to be holding it. We laughed about that and she started to walk away.

As she did, one of Cupid’s arrows struck me—struck me hard—right in the heart, and I was flooded with a love so intense that it was nearly painful. I could do nothing more than simply stand there, cartoon bluebirds circling my head and stars in my eyes. She turned back to say something, but drew up short when she saw me.

“What’s with the retarded look?” she asked.