That's all I can say.  Good grief.  Read this & you'll understand.

I woke up with the headache from hell.  That was at 11am.  Its now almost 6pm.

After checking all the weather crap & hoping to find a front on its way I know what caused it.  There is no front.  No pressure systems.  No anything.  That can mean only one thing.  I had a seizure when I was sleeping.

That really ticks me off.  I hadn't had one in almost a year.  I hurt all over & my head feels like its going to explode.  The combination of the two leads to one thing.  A seizure.

Now mind you, I don't have grand mal seizures.  Translation, I don't fall down, shake visibly or spit every where.  My father has a particularly nasty form of epilepsy so I leave those scary type seizures to him.  I have stress enduced partial (also called Jacksonian) seizures.  Basically, if I manage my stress, I can keep from having them.  Its an environmental thing I suppose.

I first started having them when I was working full-time in the casino industry as a shift supervisor.  Anyone that have ever worked for a casino will tell you that its just as cut throat as any other business if not more so.  Also, being a service type industry, the guests can be real bastards.  Between the politics at work & the problems I was having in my personal life, I started having seizures.

When they started, I had no idea what in the hell was going on.  I would lay down to go to bed & my left side would start shaking.  I couldn't talk or move.  I felt like I was going to shake apart, but my other half never knew it was happening.  In other words, it was internal.  I only had slight outwardly shaking.  For a while they only happened when I was going to bed or laying around watching TV.  I just figured my body was over tired.  Then one day there was a knock at the door.  The dog started barking.  I got to the door & couldn't move.  I couldn't call for my other half to come help me.  It was like I was frozen in time, but the everything around me was still going.  I could hear him yelling at me to answer the door.

That was it.  I called mom & talked to her about it.  At the time she was the assistant head of human resources & dealt mainly with the company insurance.  Turns out the insurance I had was with the same company she had.  Their headquarters also happen to be within walking distance of my apartment.  So she called someone she knew there.  Between the two of them I didn't have to have a referral & I was in to see one of the top neurologists in Vegas within the week.

This week's crush is Dick Powell.  Most of you probably have no clue who he is.  Well, I like him most from his films in the 30's & 40's.  Some of you may remember him from his later television work including Dick Powell's Zane Grey Theater (1956 - 1962; this led to the spinoffs Law of the Plainsmen & even more well known, The Rifleman) & The Dick Powell Show (1961 - 1963).  I recently watched Flirtation Walk (1934) which sparked this week's crush.

I didn't even realize that today was the 40th anniversary of Kennedy's assassination.  Being from the Dallas area, this was a big thing in my family.  I remember my grandfather telling stories about the day it happened.  OK, so I don't remember the exact story he told.  I was a kid & it really bored me.  Now I wish I could remember the entire thing.

When it all happened, my grandfather, then a regional VP with the United States Postal Service, was watching from his office window.  He saw the procession go by.  Moments later history was made.  No, he didn't actually see it.  At least I don't remember him saying he did.  I remember some mention of the Hunt brothers being in his office at some point.  Of course then I had no idea who the Hunt brothers were.  It wasn't until I was older that I realized the significance of my grandfather being acquainted with them.

When I was at the clubs all the time, I drove the round about at Dealy Plaza more times than I care to think about.  The only thing it meant to me was that I was finally out of one way hell.  Otherwise known as downtown Dallas.  Just one more curve & I would be on the freeway home.

The human formerly known as my father is a huge conspiracy theorist.  My sister has followed in his foot steps.  When the Kennedy papers that are housed in Dallas were declassified, my father got me an appointment to look at 'em.  That was kind of cool even though I really had no idea what in the hell I was looking at.  We (there was a girl from school with me) were hoping to uncover something that someone missed.  Of course.  We found squat.  Eventually we got bored looking at police reports & other official type things.  Neat experience none the less.

So that's my whole Kennedy thing.  I'm sure it excited you greatly.

Miss G requested food art from today's outing.  I did my best & it can be seen here.

Seems the criminal element here in my little corner of the ghetto is acting up again.  This happens from time to time.  This time, they appear to be semi-violent.

A couple weeks ago my across-the-way neighbor was robbed at gun point & had his car stolen.  Right here in the parking lot.  Right here where the very piece of crap vehicle I ride in all the time is parked.

Apparently, that was the only car worth stealing from a complex inhabitant.  Either that or they wanted variety.  Well, variety & a pizza.  Next they called for pizza delivery.  When the guy showed up they refused it saying they never called, followed the guy to his car & then robbed him & stole his car.  Also at gun point.

The thing I find interesting about both of these is that the cars they stole were found.  They had apparently just driven around, wrecked 'em & left 'em.  Maybe its just me, but if I'm going to go through the process of robbing someone & stealing their car, out in the open mind you, with the chance of getting caught, I'm not going to be just dumping the car.  Of course, maybe I just lived in Texas for too long.  Any automobile stolen there was generally in a chop shop within minutes or Mexico within hours.

So it seems these two guys are doing it just for kicks.  That makes them that much more dangerous in my mind.  I don't know a time frame that they are doing this.  But now, I don't want to go out of the house at night.  At least not by myself.  However, I have to.  I have a dog that pees every ten minutes.  I'll just have to stick to my quad.  Guess its a good thing he's old & doesn't care for long walks.  This just adds fuel to my "I want to move the hell out of the ghetto" argument.  Maybe this time I'll win.

With my newly found paranoia set firmly in place, I must finish getting dressed.  Its Saturday which means its crab leg buffet day at the Palms.  Sure, there are other things on that buffet, but who the hell eats them?  Don't go saying, "Someone who doesn't like crab," because what the hell are ou paying extra for if you aren't going to be eating crab?  Makes no sense to me.  Also, you can possibly expect a picture or two of my ugly mug when I get home.  I know you are thrilled.

Word of the Day
hoodlum - 'hüd-l&m - noun
1.  thug; especially : one who commits acts of violence
2.  a young ruffian

Just some more useless links I thought I'd share.  Enjoy!

Nose - pick a few nose hairs
Heartless Bitches International
Grover is Bitter
Disturbing Auctions
Disco Squirrels
Arm Wrestle Freud - c'mon, you know you wanna!
Abuse-a-tron
Neat-o trick - could be considered offensive.  You've been warned.
Send a Secret Gift - this joint takes stalking to a new high.

Now what kind of Las Vegan would I be if I didn't mention the whole Michael Jackson fiasco?  A smart one.  However, I feel compelled to let you all know that one of the local news stations had stopped all regular news crap to follow the freak around.

I wanted to see some news about the embassy bombings in Turkey, but apparently, Mr. Jackson's SUV is much more important news.  This is in some way going to affect me profoundly.  It has.  The entire thing has even more cemented the idea that all news sucks for the most part.  If I want my news from now on, I'm just tuning in to KNPR.  Screw the local affiliate stations.

In case you are interested, I am currently listneing to this.  Now I just need Olga to translate what I don't know.

Recently, the fine management here at Ghetto Park Avenue (GPA) decided they needed to do something about the bald spots in the landscaping.  However, instead of paying the nice landscaping people to reseed, they decided, in all of their infinite wisdom, to do the job themselves.

Now I have no problem with anyone doing something on their own in order to save money.  That is provided they do a decent job of it & don't put anyone else out by doing it.  Well, these people are incapable of doing that.  What's even worse, they didn't feel the need to warn anyone of what they had planned.

First thing on the agenda, show mail from Troy.

* = Names changed to protect the dumbasses

Several days ago, I called my other half.  His cell phone was turned off.  It was close enough to his being off work that I thought maybe he had to work over because someone was late.  Such is the nature of the casino business.  A little over an hour later my cell phone rings.  I greet the caller with my usual cheerful, "Hello!"  I, however, am not greeted nearly as nicely.

"What do you want?"  That's what I get.  Nothing nice in the voice.  Nothing that sounds like he might be joking.  He was being a bastard.  He tells me that he left work early & went to a casino.  No big surprise there.  I think nothing about it again.  Until yesterday.

I talk to my mom all the time.  Being that she lives in Texas & I live here in hell, I always use one of the cells to call her seeing as how long distance is included.  I do use his so that my minutes won't go over & he won't bitch.  Its a win/win situation.  So, yesterday, I called my mom.  When I was done, I sat the phone down on the desk beside me, but I didn't turn it off.  A short time later, it rings.  I answered it.

"Hello!" I answered.

"Can I talk to Maynard*?" came the female voice on the other end.

"May I tell him who is calling?"

"This is Rowena*."

So, I take the phone in there to bastard boy.  At this point, I figure Rowena may be a new dealer or shift supervisor at work.  He stumbles in the conversation.  I'm standing there listening to the whole thing.  He tells this person he isn't going to do anything, he's going to bed, has to work tonight, bye.  My blood began to boil immediately.

So I questioned the existence of this person.  He tells me that she is a customer that wants him to teach her to deal.  This, in her mind, involves going around to local card rooms.  I think not.  I asked why he saw fit to give her his number.  His response was so that she would leave him alone.  He goes on to say that she is just looking for a guy that will give her money.  So, that leads me to believe she's a whore in the proper sense of the word.

Being that we rarely, if ever, answer the house phone, I asked why he didn't just give her that number.  "Because I didn't want you to get mad."  Now I was 10 times more pissed than I was before.  I told him that's what he got for attempting to be sneaky.  Then he got pissed.  Screw him.

Why did I find it necessary to get upset about this whole thing?  Because something doesn't sound right to me.  He generally, or so I thought, tells me everything that happens at work.  Even the crap I don't care about.  He never saw fit to tell me that some woman (I use the term VERY loosely at this point in time) has been trying to get into his pants.  He explains that he has no intention of doing anything with her.  At that point, I explained to him that its not what he thinks is going to happen, its what she thinks is going to happen.  He was confused, of course.  I had to explain the coochie factor.