blog o' dan

THE BEST

2011-01-20T14:02:00.000-08:00

Keep on Keepin on

2010-12-29T18:57:00.000-08:00

So I've been looking for a project to keep my extra hours occupado (That's Danglish for "occupied") and I've always wanted to do my takes on ..... well pretty much every single comic book character. So I've decided to try and do 4 sketches at 4.5x6 inch per week. We'll see what kind of fun I can have with the characters and how many I can do. I wanted each series to have at least one major character and one lesser known character to keep it fun and interesting. The first series includes Scarecrow, Sandman (original DC version), Sheena Queen of the Jungle and your friendly neighborhood Spider-man. I'm really happy with the way all four turned out

We'll see which style I favor in future series, my usual blue pencil to pencil inks like on the Sandman sketch or the actual inks and gray tones I used on all the rest. If your interested I'll be selling these sketches at Happy Harbor on Jasper for around 10-15$ each.

And let me know what characters you'd like to see me sketch in future sets. It can be any character you want, doesn't have to be a superhero.

A Toothless Tale

2010-11-14T20:35:00.001-08:00

Since the second episode of the San Diego trip is taking so long here is a video I made about mine and my sisters halloween costume this year

Let the epicness ensue

Danny does San Diego

2010-08-03T19:08:00.000-07:00

Welcome one and all to another trivial tale from your distinguished host Daniel (That's me)

As you may have gathered from the title today's story is of my trip to the 2010 San Diego Comic Con

Editor's note: The title is a homage to the classic "Debbie Does Dallas" and was originally slated to be named "Danny Does Diego" but sounding like a "Go Diego, Go!" fetish website wasn't the intent of today's blog, so we'll just be moving right along....

The San Diego Comic Con is an event like no other, in it's 41 years it has grown from a small gathering of comic's greatest gathering in a hotel lobby, into a world wide media and fan frenzy of unbelievable proportions. It's a living breathing city that overtakes San Diego once a year. Literally overflowing the streets with people and wealth like a spring time flood. It is the stage for once in a lifetime events and giant spectacles. This year was no exception with such sights as ...
The Con's complete takeover of the city. Hotels as giant advertisements, and entire stores and restaurants turning into interactive displays for movies and television shows.
Will Ferrell and "Brad Pitt" dressed in their best
Odin's throne and the gates of Asgard
Angelina Jolie taking a break from film and family to talk to her fans
The "pen stabbing" worthy anouncement and introduction of the Avengers cast
Gaggles and gaggles of fans showing their loyalties to their favorite characters
A pedo-bear sighting or two
And this year we were lucky enough to receive a visit from our friendly neighborhood West Borough Baptist Church
What Fred Phelps and his followers didn't count on though was the geeks protesting right back

West Borough decided not to come back surprisingly

So with all this grandstanding and hoopla going on just what did your auspicious author do? Well that's what we're here for today aren't we, so without further ado I present to you the Chronicles of the Canadian Cowboys

July 21, 2010

1:00 am
Me and the first member of our posse, Duggy my cousin, are pulling into the farms driveway. I text the other two posse members to let them know when they get here to make themselves at home since I still have to pack.

1:05 am
I open the front door and am greeted by "Way ahead of you Dan!".
I peer around the corner into the kitchen and see Jeff and Ryley's alcohol glazed gazes, raising a glass of beer in a toast to our upcoming trip

Editor's note: In no way does Blog O' Dan recommend or support pre-drinking before international flights ... unless you want hilarity to ensue, then by all means tip that glass back fellow air travellers

3:00 am
we're sitting in line for the customs agent when Jeff yells out "Dibs on the hot one!"

3:20 am
Duggy gets stuck with agent number 1, Ryley takes 3 and me and Jeff high five after getting number 2

4:30 am
My palms are sweaty, and my feet stepping nervously on spot. I feel like a young student eagerly awaiting that letter from Julliard, praying that it'll confirm my dreams. With a polite wave of a hand the guard ushers me forward and I open that metaphorical envelope and find .... disappointment.

Just like my doctor said the titanium in my head didn't set off the metal detector. My head hanging low I look to my left and watch as Jeff pirouettes through the detector.
At least one of us got what we wanted

5:20 am
I head to the airport bar to collect Jeff and Ryley.
"Hey guys we're leaving soon. Finish up your drinks and we'll head out"
"SAY IT IN ASIAN!!!"
"Umm, what?"
"Say it ... in asian"
"We're reaving soon?"
"That's better ... be there in a sec"

I'm starting to think pre-drinking was either a really bad idea ... or a completely sexcellent one

9:00 am
After a brief walk through their airport and the birds eye view from the plane we've come to a decision ...... we hate Arizona. Never mind the constant heat turning all metallic surfaces into a city wide game of "don't touch the lava" but it's also a very drab and colorless city. Only browns and greys exist in this desert outpost. It's a gay man's hell

12:00 pm
We've landing in San Diego and are checking into our hotel. I've just been informed that we didn't get two double beds and instead will have one king sized bed and a cot.

12:10 pm
I open the door to what shall be our home for the next few days. It's a lovely room with a flat screen TV, perfectly made king sized bed, fresh green plants and a great view of the harbor.

12:20 pm
There's a knock at our door, it's the maid with our cot. Ryley spies it from his vantage point sprawled across the couch, raises his hand and yells
"THAT BED'S THE WHACK-OFF BED! you need to whack off, you do it in that bed"
we're a very organized group

12:45 pm
After seeing the huge line for con pass pick-up we decide to look for a place to eat and come back later.

1:00 pm
the Rockin Baja is our choice of eatery. It's an alcohol serving, vaguely mexican themed restaurant. This was about when Jeff and Ryley decided to not eat anywhere else the whole trip, because they completely fell in love with their standard rate food, and not because the fell in love with the bubbly, buxom, bar waitress Eriana.
This was also about when Duggy's frustrations and torment at the hands of these two began

1:40 pm
Being ridiculed and bullied by the rest of the table for not finishing his meal, Duggy madly shoves the last half of his burger into his mouth. His frantic movement pauses as a serene look overcomes his expression while he attempts to chew this oversized hunk of meat and bun.
His eyes quickly bulge.
His meditation is broken as hands cover his mouth and he runs for the bathroom. Duggy is the first to puke
...... but won't be the last
Epic high fivery between me, Jeff and Ryley ensues

It's time now for another addition of ....
The BLOG O' DAN rewind!!!
I take you back now to a simpler time, when we were still reliant upon our primitive iPhone 3's and the world was just about to discover that Sigourney Weaver is way hotter as a blue alien cat lady

December 5, 2009
I'm registering for my comic-con pro-pass. The year previous my ex-girlfriend, Melanie, applied as a pro and used my address as her home address. Because of that I received her pro-pass in the mail and conveniently forgot to mention it's existence to her and .... WAA-LAA!!! Two extra free passes for Dan! The only catch was someone had to go down there as "Melanie". At the same time I needed a name to put down as my guest so I put down my then girlfriends name "Abby" figuring once we decided who would be my guest I'd just switch the name

3:30 pm
Me, Jeff, "Mel" and "Abby" having acquired our passes and free swag are off to find some form of entertainment till the show opens. In the distance we see a large inflatable Medusa. I'm pretty sure the convention organizers bought this at a giant novelty shop on the cloudtop next to Jack's fabled castle in the sky

4:00 pm
Turns out the Giant Medusa head was a beacon for a bunch of childlike games ... much to our gleeful joy!

First up: ROCK CLIMBING!

Second gladiatorial event: TRAMPOLINE BUNGEE CORD THINGY!

While waiting for our respective turns on this ride, me, Jeff and Ryley decided that for the rest of the trip we would "Good game" Duggy as much as possible. For those of you not familiar with the "Good Game" allow me to explain. It's a slightly creepy and sexually confusing tradition among sports teams, where team mates slap each others usually bare buttocks and declare "Good Game"

And for the finale: GLADIATOR JOUSTING!
This is a game of wits and manly manhoodness! Two opponents smash each other with sticks until one of them falls to a shameful defeat!
Always the supportive posse me, Jeff and Ryley start taunting Duggy while he competes
"DUGGY!!! I swear if you don't win I'll take away your make-a-wish foundation wish from you and we'll head straight home!"
The concerned woman running the event turns to me and asks if that's true
"Yeah the little feller has no large intestines"
"That's so sad"
Duggy not seeming to appreciate our little lie, heroically jumps off the jousting arena hands outstretched in attempt to double "Good Game" both me and Jeff
Duggy trips and stumbles harmlessly away from our firm buttocks. Me and Jeff take advantage of this opprotunity

Having annihilated these challenges of the Titans it's time for a victory pose with our prizes
(A crown, some flimsy cardboard shields and a lovely paper fan)

5:00 pm
We're back at the Baja. Jeff and Ryley eagerly swivel their heads in a 360, seeking our previous waitress, Eriana.
No such luck

5:05 pm
We take our seats and are greeted by Catlin, a sweetly sexy server. And we watch as Jeff and Ryley's frowns turn right upside down

5:15 pm
Finally building up the courage after a plethora of curious glances, the lovely ladies at the table next to us ask us where we're from. I tell them we'll give them three guesses to try and get it right
Rockabilly gal tries the obvious "Texas"
Jeff, playing the helpful Alex Trebek, replies "No, more north"
Sporty Gal takes a stab "MONTANA!"
Jeff hints again "A little more north"
four pretty brows simultaneously furrow in puzzlement
at her wits end Classy Gal asks "What's north of Montana?"

5:30 pm
Duggy has lost his pass

5:45 pm
We've scattered in all directions, back tracking and turning over every stone in search of this lost pass. With no such luck Jeff checks the lost & found
"Hey my buddy lost his badge"
"Ok, what's his name?"
"Abby"
Multiple blinks of bewilderment follow
"He's scottish"
"Ooooo-kay"

5:50 pm
I catch up to Jeff who's had no luck at the lost & found. He gives me the story of my "scottish cousin" and shows me to where I can buy a new pass for him. I decide on a slightly more sensible story and tell them I lost my girlfriends badge and need to buy a new one.

6:00 pm
I give my new "scottish girlfriend" his newly acquired badge and we head on into the con

6:30 pm
Finally in the con

7:15 pm
"Good Game Duggy!"

8:50 pm
finished with the con and back at the Baja. I've come to the conclusion that due to the nature of our badge names I'm the figurative father of this trip and Ryley or "Mel" is the figurative mother. Jeff then blurts out that he's the figurative Uncle that no one wanted to come along but invited himself on this trip anyways.

9:00 pm
Jeff has left for a smoke and Ryley's getting cash when Duggy starts heading to the bathroom
"Duggy! As your figurative Father I forbid you from leaving this table!"
"OH YEAH! Well as your figurative rebellious daughter-"
"Wait! ..... why'd you say daughter?"
"Shut up! That's why!"
Hence forth Duggy is the self-proclaimed rebellious daughter of this trip

9:10 pm
Like the responsible figurative father that I am I've just seen my figurative daughter off to bed. And by that I mean I just sent Duggy home alone with a cabbie who's limited grasp of the english language was able to tell us
"I get you there, very fast now yeah?"

9:30 pm
There's karaoke at the Baja and we decide this is the perfect way to finish our first night off.

10:00 pm
I'm doing some catch up drawing when our waiter, Daniel, notices. He asks if I can sketch a "Dark angel guy" for him. I happily oblige his request and begin to doodle.

10:10 pm
Daniel the waiter winks at me as he passes by. I uncomfortably readjust myself, contemplating the uncalled for wink as Ryley and Jeff jeer me about my new found admirer

10:25 pm
I'm startled as a set of strong, virile hands settle on my shoulders with clear intentions of choking the precious life from my flawless neck. My soon to be killer lowers his lips to my ears as he whispers the last words I shall hear before the light flickers out of my intoxicatingly deep blue eyes

11:00 pm
Our first night over, we decide to turn in early having already accomplished so much in so little of time and to give ourselves some much needed rest before we turn the party meter all the way to 11. That's right ... to 11

And so ends our first foray at the Comic Con. Stay Tuned as we discover breakfast, Find a treasure chest full of chickens, Ryley's nipples make an appearance, and we make some American friends. That's next time on Blog O' Dan in the continued adventures of The Chronicles of the Canadian Cowboys!

That John Denver is Full of S#@%!!!

2010-04-15T20:53:00.000-07:00

Hark! My fellow peers! For today I come to you with a mission, a mission to cast back the deceptions cast over our minds by a golden haired bard. For too long we've been content to let the waters sit placid. Today I plan to cause a stir and reveal the truths hiding under the surface of this tantalizing tune.

"Thank God I'm a Country Boy" by John Denver

Don't let his dutch boy haircut and complete lack of fashion sense fool you. This man and his most classic of songs are folk singers equivalent of a decepticon. Unassuming and quietly comforting at first, it eases into your life with its simple charming enthusiasm. But suddenly with a confounding "CHAKKA CHAKKA!" they transform and reveal the truth.

And so as a public service I will now uncover the truths for you. In a piece I like to call (if I could quote the great Llyod Christmas)

That John Denver is Full of S@#$!

let us begin ...

-"Well life on a farm is kinda laid back"

These 9 simple words that open our song are the start of a cleverly plotted out lie woven together into a lovely tapestry made to cover over the truth of the matter. I've been laid out on my back before yes, but by charging cattle not by a swedish masseuse. And although the beautiful bovines do resemble Olga, I wouldn't call this R&R.

-"It's early to rise, early in the sack"

I gotta give old Johnny boy credit, the man knows the in's and out's of crafting a proper lie. Half truths hold together a better lie. Well before the sun has ever even had a chance to hit the snooze button, I'm treated to a soft rapping on my door and my fathers hushed voice
"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bacey"
Having not fully escaped my dream I believe these encouraging words and stumble downstairs. And just like any drunk waking in the morning eager to gaze upon his prized princess, I too with newly acquired sober eyes and mind realize it was all but a fantasy for instead of my princess, a crusty buttered up reality lies before me
But you continue on with your work day knowing that the promise of a speedy return to recreation was given. This small spark of hope instilled in you is enough to get you started and that is all they need. Cause after all since you're already out there feeding cows, we might as well wash them all, and since we're washing them it would be silly not to clip their hair, and now that we're past twilight and our sight has adjusted to the lack of light we might as well develop a complicated lever and pulley system to stop gophers from digging holes in the pasture!

-"A simple kind of life never did me no harm"

Harm is definitely a mistress you flirt with everyday on a farm. Luring you in with a bat of her big brown doe eyes, letting you get comfortable and relaxed in her sweet innocent presence, and just when you make your move .... BAM!!! In comes her ride home with rib cracking authority! You'd think this would be enough to learn your lesson, but like the sex addled brained teenager you'll be tempted time and time again. It's at about the time he says this line that I'm starting to think the only thing Mr. Denver ever farmed was ants

-"When the sun's coming up I got cakes on the griddle"

This one is true in most cases ... not so much mine. I like to compare my families eating habits to that of a family of Boa constrictors. Contrary to the 3 squares meals a day we instead preferred 1 over-sized oblong meal a week. We gorge ourselves on this one meal and let it slowly digest and sustain us throughout the rest of the week

-"Yeah city folks drivin' in a black limousine, A lotta sad people think that's a mighty keen, Well son let me tell you exactly what I mean"

This song is starting to sound like the opening pitch line from a cult recruiting center. We've already glorified the country life style and now we've moved onto guilt you about yours. I'm almost wondering if the only beverage served at John Denver concerts wasn't Kool-Aid. Why it's hard for any poor soul not to resent their fancy smancy smooth running vehicular units, and envy the stop/start Chitty Shitty Bang Bang farm trucks after listening to this merry melody. But Johnny boy does promise to enlighten us about what he means .... only to distract and bedazzle our minds with another jaunty rendition of the chorus, just like any good leader. Promises of answers to life's woes but in actuality they just want us chanting the chorus over and over, while we hand over our "mighty keen" "Black limousine"

I realize at this point I'm starting to sound like a ranting old man, sitting on his front porch shotgun in hand yelling at passing by kids that Santa doesn't exist and I shot the tooth fairy. In all honesty I love everything country. The life, the music, the style, the hardships and excitements of the everyday.

-"Well I wouldn't trade my life for diamonds or jewels"

This line says it all. Contrary to what all my previous nagging would have you believe, there is nothing in this world that could entice me to leave this all behind. Not to say that I wouldn't relish in the wealth if presented with proper amounts of bling, but I refuse trade who I am in exchange. The farm and country is a part of who I am. It's where I grew up and is a big part of who I am today. Farms teach you the joy's of life, death, birth and renewal. You learn about responsibility, for yourself, your fellow man, and most of all the land that provides for you. It's freedom, a place where you aren't afraid to run and scream as loud and hard as you want. Freedom to explore and discover the natural world. I'll take my hairy cattle companions over bristly bustling crowds any day. At the end of the day me and John can set aside our differences and proudly agree on one thing....

Thank God I'm a country boy!

One More Fish in the Sea

2010-04-03T20:14:00.000-07:00

Hey there good looking, My name's Dan and you must be Rubber Ducky? Cause baby you're the one that makes bath time oh so fun!

So why am I laying on the cheese and shamelessly thrusting my ass out like a cheap backup dancer in a Snoop Dogg video? Well dear my friends, your lovable rascal of a cowboy has been returned to the life of the lone wolf. Me and my lovely lady Abby have called it quits and I find myself once again cast back into the swinging bachelor life.

It was a mutual break up. I wouldn't even really call it a break up more of a transition of sorts. As if we went to the bank and transferred our funds from "couple" to "friends" There was no arguing, spite or hate. No talking behind backs, no burning of pictures or letting loose of large bovines in the others bedroom (Ok so maybe I'm the only one who would do something like that in a bad break up)

Anywhoo, my point is, it was a good break up, we both still really like each other, we just thought it was best for both of us to end it. She no longer saw me as a lover just a really great friend. I know it was no ones fault but I felt like i ruined everything and so I attempted to become emo for a day or so.

4:00 pm (just after break up)
Go to mirror and attempt to pull all my bangs in front of my face for that oh so popular "introverted tortured soul" look. Still lacking the full luxurious head of hair possessed before my surgery, I instead look like a diseased hillbilly version of Gerard Way.

6:00 pm
I write some poetry
My life is a barren wasteland of sorrow and remorse,

just like the time I didn't poke with a stick that dead corpse,

Woe, misery and pain are all my life's emphasis,

I'll always remember you're awesome breastasis,

That last one did not follow the rhythm,

Don't try to hold me within your prison,

Just like in Footloose if given the chance,

I'll fight oppression through the powers of dance!

8:00 pm
Making a mopey playlist to go along with my new mascara wearing look. I start off strong with Theory of a Deadman's "Hate My Life", Team America's "I'm so Ronery" and Gary Allen's "Life ain't Always Beautiful". But I think I went wrong somewhere between, Hot Action Cop's "Feva for Flava" and Rodney Carrington's "Dear Penis"

Failing miserably at my emo escapade (And also running into more than a few doors due to bangs blocking my vision) I have now switched my post break up tactic to the drown your sorrows with a long neck bottle method. This plan was enacted in two parts. The first involved me and my friend Marc heading out to a pub for some drinks and food. The second I joined my friend Roger and his girlfriend Jennifer at the Demonika Symphony of Horror! Here's a few highlights from those two nights

-Marc about 6 beers in and me 7 girlie drinks downed have started comparing who's more oblivious when it comes to women. We settle on a tie and drink to our continued failures with the opposite sex

-My friend Jeff joins me and Marc at the pub and orders a round of Tequila. Marc forgets he's allergic to tequila, and hilarity ensues ... for me at least, not so sure it was as funny for Marc. Couldn't really ask him as he kept running to the toilet looking like a chipmunk with his vomit filled cheeks

-A text sent just before I laid down my weary head
Knees refuse to function properly. They have started a revolution. my body is at civil war my knees want to enslave blacks and i an lincoln and will free them! Vita la revolution!

-Bouncer comments that it's great having a cowboy attend a goth event, he doesn't need to check my ID when I come back in or frisk me twice. I tell him he can frisk me again if he really wants to

-I'm staring at a raver dancing in the club. Dreads, leather straps, glow sticks, the whole nine yards. He has a plate sized bald spot on the back of his head. I start stalking him with a camera in hopes of getting photographic evidence of this rare beast. But like a neon colored drugged induced bigfoot, the fog and his erratic movements prove too much for my camera and stalker skills.

-Roger's girlfriend wants us to win her a prize in one of the many competitions at the event. Me and Roger wait patiently for one in which can compete. We pass up best breasts, seeing as neither of us has developed them yet, and best booty shake (I wasn't wearing the right jeans for that) But disturbingly without saying a word we both stand up for the best ladies underwear competition. Roger looks to me and laughs that we both made the same joke ...... yeah joke, right, that's why I stood up .....

-A chick dressed as a mummy just stole my chair ..... this will be the perfect ice breaker
Is it true Mummies are missing all their organs? cause I've got one I can donate .... also give me back my chair!

-About halfway through the show I've come to a conclusion. You're not naked as long a you cover up your nipples. No more bringing swimtrunks to the beach for me, I'm just bringing a roll of electrical tape

-I go up on stage for the best dressed competition. My competitors are a zombie, a voodoo priest and a neon colored gay guy in a banana hammock.

-Losing the battle to the zombie I graceful step off stage only to be immediately swarmed by a gaggle of goth and raver chicks. My head swivels about like an owl taking in all the eye candy before me as I'm assailed with varying calls of "Hey cowboy". A soft hand firmly grips mine, turning my attention towards the punk-rockabilly queen to my right.
PunkRockabillyQueen: Who are you?
Me: My names Daniel, I'm the dorky cowboy who thinks he can hang out with the cool kids. And may I ask your name?
PRQ: I'm Steph. What are you doing in a place like this anyways?
Me: I may stick out like a sore thumb but I love this crowd. So many neat and interesting people who aren't afraid to be themselves
Steph: .... You're an oddity and a rare person. I like you. You should hang out with me tonight
Me: Sexcellent! you got yourself a deal
Steph: Can I touch your hat?
Me: Yes you can, he won't bite

-Departing from my new found friends to acquire myself another drink I become distracted as easily as a cat with a laser pointer, by a fellow at the bar asking me about farming. I realize too late just how much time I wasted chatting only to find out that Steph and her entourage have left. At least i found out alternative chicks dig geeky cowboy's ... and like to touch hats

-It's 3 am and me and some friends are walking around the city looking for food. We run into a priest and two stoners getting high outside a pizza place. The place is closed but the priest insists that if Jesus can walk on water he can get us into the restaurant. He scratches at the window weakly like a needy cat begging to be let in. When that doesn't work the old man attempts to hop over the patio fence (And by "attempt" I mean he put one foot on the railing and then started giggling too much to continue the trek)

-We've finally called the night to an end and I'm crashing at Marc's place. I'm supposed to be a special guest in the morning at a comic convention so Marc asks me what time i want to get up.
Me: I'll set my alarm for 7 that way I have time to drive the 40 minutes home, change, grab my art and prints and then come back in time for the show
Marc: You realize it's 6:30 right?
Me: ....... f@#$ .... well, hopefully these clothes won't smell too bad.

And so ended my nights of drunken debauchery. The next day I strolled into the con with nothing but the clothes on my back and a pencil. The Indie comic creators panel I was a guest on opened up with us talking about breeds of cattle, much to our 6 person crowd's delight. I spent the remainder of my day drawing roller derby girls, and explaining the difference between 'cougars' and 'silver foxes' to my fellow geeks. I was the definition of class

And so after a very brief self-pity stage I'm back to my normal self and me and Abby are still great friends.

Since I'm back out on the prowl once again I figured my best course of action is to cast a wide net to find me a better-half. And so I've decided to write a personals ad

Man seeking Woman

5'10, 180 lbs (mostly water weight), pasty white caucasian male, looking for a beautiful, intelligent, fun woman for a relationship. I live with my parents on a farm in the middle of no where. Currently unemployed due to recent head injury. The dent is barely noticeable from the right angles. Not brain damaged .... probably. In my spare time I like to read, write and draw comics and complain about the inaccuracies of the Catwoman movie. If this sounds right for you give me a shout .... you know you waaaaant it! RWAR!!!

That one might need a little work, but I think it's pretty good so far. Now on the other hand I could also tap into a niche dating market (a very large niche mind you) with this ad

Man seeking Woman

178 cm, 180 lbs, caucasian male, looking for strong intelligent female. I'm an only child and an orphan, but I have lots of friends (and more than a few enemies). I'm fluent in parseltongue and have a pet owl who I love and adore. I want someone who see's past my fame. doesn't matter if you're black, white, asian or muggle, I just want someone who loves me for me. If this sounds right for you send owl mail to Number 4, Privet Drive and we'll go for a broom ride

a picture of me at school

So there you have it my dear readers. I hope you enjoyed my romantic endeavors so far, and I will continue to chronicle them for as long as the stories amuse and entertain the masses.

See you all back here
Same Dan-time!
Same Dan-channel!

p.s. If you're looking for the rest of the Crisis of Cranium Crackage story as I promised when I posted the first entry, I posted them all up at once on here right before this post, you just have to go back and read them. If you haven't already read them somewhere else I highly recommend reading them

Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part net! (the finale)

2010-04-03T20:11:00.000-07:00

Hey there everybody! I made out to the other side and as can be expected I have the tale of my trials for you recorded in this last installment of ....

Warjournal: Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part net!!!

March 1, 2010
(day of the surgery)

4:00 am
Awoken to a screaming alarm clock, I groggily grab my pre-packed bag. Filled with nothing but PJ's and movies, it's easy to trick myself that I'm heading for a slumber party with all my 'besties' instead of heading to a hospital to have my head peeled like a grape

4:05 am
I sit staring at my previous Cranium Crackage entry with complete and utter remorse. Hoping against all logic that maybe if I phone and kindly inform the hospital that I'm not completely happy with a random blog I wrote and would they patiently wait while I fix it, maybe just maybe they'll see my reasoning

4:10 am
My dad, Howie, has walked into my room. His eyes haven't quite yet figured out how to open and his arm seems rather occupied with rustling his hair into a bird's nest. He stumbles towards me like some sort of drug induced wise man, placing his hands upon my head in solemn prayer while faintly mumbling a blessing that I'm pretty sure translated into "Hmm, bye, bye hair"

4:30 am
After much posing, eyebrow arching and lip pursing my mother does a quick toss off her always fabulous red locks and exits the hair spray fog now collecting in the bathroom. I awkwardly readjust the hoodie on my head and begin to wonder about what the proper dress etiquette for a surgical head scalping is

5:30 am
At the hospital in the OR prep station. At this point on your journey into the OR you have a feeling like you've just been drafted into a very nasty war and you're the last line of defense. Your comrade in arms are a one armed portly fellow who is sensitive to light and an old man who surely served as a general in the war of 1812. A nurse then assigns you a numbered cubicle and unceremoniously tells you to disrobe and put on a thin unflattering sheet of paper and some plastic baggies around your feet. In the war against germs and bacteria I have been armed with newsprint and sandwich bags. I'm starting to think either hospitals or those antibacterial commercials are full of S@#%

6:00 am
Sitting on my stretcher trying to best decipher how to make my hospital garb accentuate my pectorals, my mom starts repeatedly questioning me as to whether or not I'm nervous about the whole situation. I keep answering no but get increasingly more concerned everytime she asks and start to question my mislead trust in these Doctors.
What's their sign? Their favorite color? If you were taking my head on a first date, where would we go, what would we do?
The important questions I could've and should've asked before letting these strangers pick apart my noggin

6:45 am
In the operating room. The room is cold with giant blinding lights swiveling above your head. I expect at anytime to turn my head and see E.T. next to me being dissected by the MIB. My main doctor, Dr. Louie comes by and gives me a pregame speech to get me all pumped and excited for my surgery. He describes the entire operation in great detail
"And I'll just be shaving a small strip of hair where the incision will be made, so you'll keep most of your hair"
Now my first thought was "HECK YES!!! I can hold onto some small shred of my once luscious hair!"
But my second thought was "F@#$! Now I'll look like a jack@$$ after making such a big deal to everyone about being bald!"

6:50 am
Dr. Louie is just about to wash up and asks if I have any other questions before I go under
"Yeah, just one .... who gets to keep my sinus?"
"What?"
"Well when you take my sinus out, who gets it? Me or you? Like can can I keep it in a jar or something, like a trophy for my mantelpiece? Or do you guys want it to study it and junk?"
"Umm, your sinus is just a space between the bones in your skull, there's technically nothing we could put into a jar for you. We're just removing that space in your skull"
"Oh ...... cool"
"Any other questions?"
"Nah I think I've embarassed myself enough."

7:00 am
The nurses are prepping me to be knocked out. They drop important info between small talk to mask the severity while calming my nerves.
"What do you do for a living? P.s. we'll be inserting a cardiac thing into your arteries to make sure your heart doesn't stop during the operation"
"I'm a comic book artist ... wait what?! That sounds rather alarming"
"OH COOL! A comic artist! Never met one of those"
"Yeah we're kinda neat-o ... so back to this whole heart stopping thingy"
"So what arm do you draw with?"
"My right...."
"put the IV in his right arm and the cardiac monitor in his left. So what comics have you done?"
"Ummm one called Merc ... Is my left arm is some sort of danger? Cause i kinda like him"
Just then I feel some freezing get injected into my right arm. I start freaking out thinking Dr. Louie's gone all McGyver on me and wants to do this low tech. The nurses assure me its just prep for the IV. A tad wary seeing as they never froze me before any other IV's I decide my stomach will be better off if I don't take a peek at the harpoon that will keep me thoroughly drugged up during the procedure.

7:10 am
My OR nurse is kindly smothering my airways with a gas mask while carrying on small talk. She's chats excitedly and I nod my head in agreement while fighting to hold open my eyes. A deep and ungrounded nightmare has settled in my head that if I relax and close my eyes, they'll most certainly come at my head with hatchets all to eager to start chopping without noticing my panicked eyes frantically trying to signal my consciousness

7:20 am
not a care in the world I drift off into a relaxing and peaceful sleep.

interlude

5:00 pm
Still heavily induced I'm not entirely sure whether or not I'm awake or if this is a dream. I can make out my mom and dad next to me, a nurse going about her business caring for my health, all while a very angry sounding voice somewhere to my right is yelling at a doctor. Clearly this is reality otherwise Aquaman would be there with Rhubarb pie .... instead he's brought pumpkin pie

7:00 pm
You're told before going into a big surgery like this that you're not supposed to make any important decisions within the first 24 hours after the operation. I can see why, although at times I was conscience I barely remember anything that happened that first night after surgery. It's like drifting through a modern art exhibit of reality. You remember basic shapes and sounds, that fit together at random, and you're left feeling rather stupid for not being able to make sense of it all. Where as those more enlightened than you are moved by the powerful messages conveyed through the artist's vision. My mom took advantage of my ignorant stupefied state which lead to a glorious photo of myself with drool dripping out the one side of my mouth and my head bandaged up like turban

10:00 pm
feeling a need to empty my guts the nurse has provided me with trusty puke bucket. I hold onto it tenderly nuzzling it to my chest like a security blanket. My one friend in a nauseous world. My attending nurse Steven, keeps saying how cute I am all snuggled up to my steel bowl. Too sick to ditch my bowl, but still concerned about the male nurse hitting on me, in my hazy state I try to make myself appear 'uncute' while clinging to my one saving grace

March 2
9:00 am
I'm startled awake to a crazed wheel chair bound bum poking my leg. Turns out to be my neighbor, Kevin, a man who was electrocuted, broke a leg and dislocated a shoulder. Thoughtfully he decided that the best thing to be awaken to after an 8 hour surgery is a haggard smoker showing you what happens to a leg that had 10,000 volts burst through it. I can tell we're gonna get along just swimmingly

9:30 am
After a disturbing wake up from my friendly neighborhood meth head Kevin I've finally noticed a morbid balloon/tube combo sticking out of my head that is collecting the blood to keep the wound clean. With this alien object residing inside my head I realize that at some point it will eventually come out. I choose ignorant bliss as my medicine for this and remove the thought completely from my mind

10:00 am
A dietitian has come by for a little Q&A with me. I let her know that everything's fine, but my my jaw hurts a little so maybe not to send carrots and other foods that are on the harder chewing side of things
(Warning: Never ever say this to your dietitian in a hospital, it may lead to them blending every possible meal they send you. Even the turkey which they will deceptively mold into a proper turkey thigh only to have you poke it with your fork and have the mush loose all solid form and become a unsavory meaty sauce, slishing and sloshing about your plate)
Kevin kindly informs her the food here tastes like S#@$ and that she should be ashamed of herself. He then delves into a harrowing tale of his exploits to acquire McDonalds BigMacs while in here in order to sustain himself

1:00 pm
I'm enjoying a chat with my mother while Kevin is in a heated argument across the room claiming that it was the doctors that broke his leg and not his 50 foot fall from the roof he was electrocuted on. A nurse comes in to change the bandages on my head. Pulling them off she reveals my still mostly full head of hair
"Why didn't they shave you completely?" the nurse asks in astonishment
"I don't know, the doc just told me he was gonna shave a strip. I wasn't gonna argue with a guy with 10 years of schooling behind his belt"
My mom then comments "But you look sillier with just a strip shaved off"
"well yes, now that I look like a ugly puffy headed girl wearing a headband, I'm sorta regretting that decision"

1:10 pm
My mom is inspecting my newly acquired head spanning scar and lets me know that it's being held together by staples. Big metallic staples, the kind used to hold reports and school projects together. An image flashes in my mind of the doctors prying them out of my head later with a crowbar.

2:00 pm
Jessica a friend of mine has come by for a visit. We chit and chat about this and that, mostly catching up on current events of friends from school. Kevin blinded to us by a thin curtain still feels a need to partake in our visit, adding in his insights and advice between his crackled chuckles and hectic coughing up of lungs. After a few minutes he uses his expert crack-addict logic to switch the coarse of our conversation from friends with new babies to his cell phone bill, which unexplainably rose sometime during the transfer from his hometown in Calgary to Edmonton. He tells us how he's not one to usually get frustrated and cause a stir but this odd "long distance" charge crossed the line! And how he wished they'd give him back his "wacky tabaccy" so that he could calm his nerves, but a half a pack of smokes will have to do for now

3:00 pm
A doctor who I've never met before comes by to chat with me. Apparently he worked on my cranium in the surgery along with my other doctors. This pattern starts to become increasingly similar as I'm slowly introduced to about 5 other doctors that also worked on me. It's starting to feel like the classic clowns in a car gag, with my head being the metaphorical compact car from which the clowns emerge. They explain why i was in surgery for 8 hours instead of the scheduled 5, turns out I messed up my head worse than they had thought. He says how they had to clean the pieces of hair and hoodie from inside my skull. My dreams of placing a time capsule inside my head were not so far fetched after all

March 3
10:00 am
My personal nurse for the day Rosalyn is changing the dressings on my head. I must confess that my daily head cleanings have become the best part of my day. I get to sit contently for about half hour catching up on the latest gossip from the nurses while she methodically cleans and tends to my disheveled head. I now know what all the hoopla about chimp lice preening is all about

2:00 pm
Kevin seems to not be able to comprehend interactions and relationships with members of the opposite gender for any other reason beyond sex. Everytime someone comes by for a visit lacking the Y chromosome he immediately hobbles into his wheelchair very loudly announcing he's generously giving me 5 minutes of "alone time". I'm not sure what concerns me more. The fact that the vast majority of these female visitors were my family and he still figured I needed "alone time", or that he calculated 5 minutes as more than enough "alone time" for me to finish the dirty deed

Warning: the next entry is not for the weak at heart
2:30 pm
Lucky Jessica has timed her second visit right on cue with the removal of that creepy tube/balloon thingy in my head. The doc firmly grasps the tube in one hand and braces against my head with the other making me feel like I'm a pull start lawn mower. I inquire as to the estimated length of the snake incubating in there to which he shrugs, then asks me if I'm ready. I close my eyes hoping this will be like a band-aid clean and quick then nod my head. He tugs and my stomach flips as I feel movement in the opposite temple. The doctors stops and Jessica describes the look on his face as one of complete shock. Now both of us prepared to enter unknown territory the doc holds on once again and tells me to breath deeply. I take a long slow measured breath then release it all in repulsive shock as I feel this indescribably horrific tube worm its way through my skull and out the small incision. The doctor looks at the newly freed tube and says "Wow! that's long" Still in shock from the process I forget to reply properly with
"That's what she said"

4:00 pm
A doctor comes by and asks if I'd be willing to be interviewed by a couple of medical students tomorrow morning. I enthusiastically say yes seeing this as way for me to feel superior to people much more accomplished in their lives than me. I figure that they chose to interview me due to my enigmatic personality and sage wisdom and not because I'm the only patient in my room currently not trying to fist fight with the nurses because they won't let me rent porn from my hospital bed

March 4
(last day in the hospital)
8:00 am
I've been awake for the past 3 hours wearing my finest Aquaman PJ's eagerly awaiting my interview. The medical students lead by a doctor waltz into my room and introduce themselves. They are Richard, Sarah, and Tim. Richard seems like an over-achiever, he is carrying around portly belly wrapped in a sweater vest and haircut resembling macaroni, and glasses he seems to have stolen from my grandma. Despite his 90's white boy handicap he walks about with the swagger of a gangster hustler. Sarah is a definite over-achiever and commands her two colleague's with the authority usually reserved for Egyptian queens. Her dress is one of simply elegance that looks both suitable for prescribing Ambien to insomniacs and to host a large gala event to raise money for Dodo birds. Tim seems to be the underdog in this group, quiet and unassuming he fumbles with his notes and worries entirely too much about the placement of the glasses on his face.

8:10 am
The interview has begun and it is to be a full examination of my entire medical history and health.
"Any noticeable changes since the surgery?" Richard inquires
"My head feels like a coconut right here" I poke the top of my head
"Can you explain that further?"
"Yep, I have no feeling on the top of my scalp anymore but the doctor told me to expect that. So when I rap on my head like so ..." I tap out a little tune for them "It feels like a bongo drum!"

8:15 am
"And how does your head feel? any headaches?" Tim nervously questions
"Not really, just sometimes when I move around too much my head feels like I'm wearing a really, really big helmet"
"Umm, I'm not sure I understand"
"You know how if you have on a really big hat and your head feels weird and too heavy, that's how my head feels. Like I'm walking around with an over-sized hat"

8:45 am
I never fully realized how thorough the interview was until this point
Sarah "Are you single?"
"I have a girlfriend .... what does that have to do with my health?"
She ignores my question and continues on "Any erectile dysfunction since the surgery?"
"Noooo ... but it's not like I've really had an opportunity to check. Getting back into the sack wasn't exactly my first order of business after having my head peeled."
Then Richard helpfully butts in "and how about previous to this?"
"Mast rose to to the occasions"

9:00 am
Things have turned from Q&A to a hands on approach. Tim is awkwardly feeling around my neck trying to find my carotid artery.
"Ummm, I don't think there is one ... I can't find it"
I quickly pip in my 2 cents "I'm pretty sure they're there, cause otherwise my mangled coconut head would be the least of our worries"

9:30 am
The doctor is giving them helpful hints and tips about the examination process. They listen intently scribing his every word while I piggy back onto his intelligence by firmly nodding my agreement with his every word. As if I'm somehow the apex of intellect in the room, when in actuality the last great thing my head did was be used as a very effective goalie against a thick piece of plate metal

12:00 pm
I am released for the final time! I say a tearful goodbye to the lovely people of the UofA hospital and bid a fond farewell to my source of entertainment for the last month. And now I'm stuck with the problem of finding something else to occupy my writings with

And so ends the great Crisis of Cranium Crackage saga! I hoped you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed chronicling the events in my life for the past month. I probably had entirely too much fun for someone in my situation.
Looking back on it all I know that more than anything I'm thankful for everything. Thankful for still being here to annoy and pester you all. Thankful that I never lost a part of myself. Thankful for those that love me and wished me well during the whole ordeal. And in a weird way I'm thankful that this all happened. I've turned a corner in my life a I need to get out there and make the best of it. As my friend Bob so perfectly put it "This was God's V8 style slap to your head, stick to comics". This was a blessing in disguise in multiple ways and I'm bound and determined to prove it to the world. I'm not sure where I'm heading but I'm excited for the ride!

Thank you everyone for reading and for the encouragement! And as always .....

See ya back here,
Same Dan-Time!
Same Dan-channel!

Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part Vier!

2010-04-03T20:10:00.001-07:00

Welcome back one and all, now gather round as I regale with yet another addition of Crisis of Cranium Crackage! And so without further ado I present to you ....

Warjournal: Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part Vier!

February 20, 2010
(my first night back home after the accident)

9:45 am
My mother is on the phone with my far-and-away sister Jamie when she receives another call
"I have to let you go someone's on the other line, bye ..... Hello?"
"Mom, it's well past 8 and there's still no breakfast in front of me"
"Daniel? Where are you?"
"In bed"
"DANIEL!!! You're lucky you have an injured head otherwise I'd come in there a whip this phone at it!"
"Love you mom"
".... Love you too, now BYE!"

10:30 am
No longer confined to hospitals bland soulless crispy rice for my breakfast, I'm in the kitchen frantically flitting about like some sort of ADD hummingbird trying to decide which nectar to consume. My pal Tony's sugary coated flakes of frost, some syrup confining golden fluffy waffles, or the always delectable strawberry bacterial colonies! (also commonly referred to by the laymen folk as yogurt)
Flavored bacterial colonies takes the win!

12:00 pm
My mom's driving me into the city (plus side to the head trauma, I get to be chauffeured around by my family for a week) And I start discussing the possibility of me going into surgery.
"If I go it's the creepiest place I can think of to get surgery. I mean they will literally have to scalp me and peel back my face to get at the sinus in order to fix it"
"Danny don't be stupid, they wouldn't do that. They'll go up your nose with tiny instruments and do it all that way"
"Mom I'm pretty sure in order to fix bones and cracked skulls it's a little more intense than the Egyptian method of chop sticks up the nose. No amount of twirling and stirring will mend a fracture"

1:00 pm
At the comic shop for the first time since the accident. Having missed out helping my shop owner Jay teach at a school the day previous due to my hospitalization I still feel like I somehow let him down by being mortally wounded. I slip by the counter shading my scar with a held up hand like the unabomber evading a camera and proceed to the comic racks at the back of the store, quiet and content back in my nerdy homeland.

1:15 pm
Deeply involved in a whimsical tale of super pets Jay gets the drop on me
"Danny?! I didn't even see you come in, great to see you man! WOW! It's a good thing you didn't come yesterday, we wouldn't be able to teach anything with all the kids distracted by your forehead"
"We could've told them I was in costume as Frankenstein"

5:00 pm
My dog Sammie (who is deaf) has finally come to realize I'm home. This could be a problem. Why? Well you see Sammie is best describe as a delusional psycho-ex girlfriend stalker. She loves me more than anything. But being a hyper-active highly athletic dog with the attention span of a gerbil, topped off with not being able to hear makes her a dangerous greeter. It all starts with her ears perking up to full attention and a look in her eyes like she has just witnessed the second coming of Jesus. Then she riles up the rest of the dogs before bolting out into the field in an explosion of snow. Using this to build up a sort of boomerang momentum, as she immediately changes course only to come flying back bodychecking one of the insolent dogs for not rising to his feet sooner in order to pay his respects for me. Her body heaving she turns her attentions to me with frothing mouth. Then with a slightly innocent and peculiar turn of her head it all seems to stop. But do not let this fool you, this is but the calm before the storm, for then she unleashes her true power as her body molds into a perfect doggy torpedo homing in on her target.
Me
Mr. Humpty Dumpty Who got hit in the head,
Humpty Dumpty who was almost dead.
And all those doctors who put me on the mend,
Said next skull crack I might not be so lucky again.
So now I have exactly one fifth of a second to plead with my missile crisis dog before she takes me out at the knees and sha-whacks my noggin against the cement. The frantic waving of my arms does nothing to impede her trajectory, so I go to my last resort and deflect her with my knee into the snow bank. But just like any good stalker ex, this minor set back does nothing to hinder her undying love for me when I turn to her snow covered face and give her a long over due hug

6:00 pm
My rumbling stomach has lead me to the kitchen with the intent of acquiring a sandwich. I jovially pluck ingredients from the fridge delighting in the diversity and choice. Like Tony Montana I relish in the bounty of food before me, laughing and rolling in the wealth of produce ..... then it dawns on me
"you have to make this sandwich yourself"
I pour milk into a bowl and munch on some cereal staring at my unfinished sandwich with disdain

7:00 pm
The great debate between face-peeling and chopstick-twirling surgery methods has heated up in my family. It's become more intense than any presidential debate, with slurs and slanders slug by both sides. Old scandals and controversy's brought back to haunt members of both parties. With tensions rising to dangerous levels a shaky truce is made. Arguments halted and bets are placed, with the victors to be decided by the doctors upon my return

8:00 pm
My last night of freedom I pack for my emanate return to the slammer. Like a man on death row long ran out of hope, I decide to give away that which is most precious to me

8:10 pm
A resounding thud fills the kitchen as I drop my loot bag containing the plethora of candies brought to me during my first hospital stay. I whip a tear from my eye as my family thanks me and digs in, I step away from the scene my heart still too attached for me to watch anymore.
I dedicate this entry to you Bag-O-Candy. You were warm and magical, you embodied all that is good in this life and in the brief time we shared you showed me just how bad a sugar high hangover can be
For that I thank you

February 21

10:00 am
I've returned to the hospital, the nurses give me a kind greeting and tell me that my room is just the way I left it. Cold, sterile and with a hint of sugar sprinkled throughout the sheets

12:00 pm
Lunch has arrived. My lunch lady jokingly remarks that it was the great food that brought me back, I quickly reply "Nah I'm just too lazy to cook for myself" She laughs.
It wasn't a joke

2:00 pm
Lost in my sketch book bringing to life my imagination, I'm abruptly brought back to reality by Ana tugging on my shirt
"Mr. Daniel? We put IV in you now?"
"But I thought I didn't need one?"
"You might, doctors might want to operate"
"Sooooo, why don't we do it then?"
"There is a new nurse and she needs practice. And you are the only patient here that doesn't have one in already."
"Ummm....."
"Plus you're so young and have such lovely veins"
I bashfully turn my head trying to hide my blushing cheeks "Well ok!"
Compliment my veins and I'll do anything you want

2:10 pm
I'm already regretting my decision to become the nurses personal voodoo doll. After her first miss, Ana helped our rookie nurse restab me closer to the vein ("closer" is the key word there) Having still not penetrated the vein wall she starts fishing in my arm like she's trying to jiggle a loose wire. At this point I've lost all color in my face and become so pale that I'm perfectly camouflaged with my bedsheet. After some digging through my arm Rookie nurse has found the vein, Ana congrats her and I weakly cheer trying to hold in my stomach.
"Good job! ... and now that you know better where it is let's try one more time"
Curse my perfectly situated veins!

February 22

5:00 am
The Nose doctor comes by and tells me his team will be looking at my scans today and that I'll probably be released that afternoon. Like a survivor castaway my metaphorical torch of hope has been light

1:00 pm
The head neurosurgeon comes by for a chat with me. I'm pretty sure he was talking about something fairly important but I find myself in a constant psychological battle the entire time I talk with him and unable to concentrate. He has a very thick Australian accent and the majority of my mental power is used to control myself from replying to his questions in a badly imitated accent of my own

5:00 pm
Second neurosurgeon of the day comes by. This time my aphid sized brain is occupied by focusing on her weird ability to speak without actually opening her mouth and only slightly moving her lips. I begin to wonder if she ever had dreams of becoming a world renowned ventriloquist but had those dreams crushed by strict parents who forced her into medical school. I feel like giving her a hug and telling her I believe in her ventriloquist ambitions

6:00 pm
Nose doc finally comes by and tells me that they need to look at my charts more and I'll have to stay one more night.

8:00 pm
Ventriloquist doctor brings by a new quirk-free neurosurgeon to talk to me. With his rather average appearance and voice my one track mind is able to focus on what he's saying. Seems like the two previous neurosurgeons were trying to tell me earlier that they want to do surgery on me. After checking my brain and skull scans it looks like I have a chance to develop a brain infection or meningitis if we don't fix it. And a review of the brain scans also apparently made them realize it would take at least three different doctors to try and get this information through the tiny pinhole sized comprehension part of my brain

February 23

5:00 am
The neurosurgeon from the previous night comes by and let's me know him and the nasal doctors have voted to preform surgery on me but they'll be sending a plastic surgeon to talk to me today to see what he wants to do. It's like I've entered some sort of weird head trauma version of American Idol. I've won over Randy and Paula, now for the clincher I have to win over Simon

11:00 am
My mom is at my side intent on speaking with a doctor insisting that I haven't asked the proper questions. Just then a head and neck doctor comes by to talk with me about the accident and to explain to me what will happen in the surgery.
"You completely obliterated your sinus cavity haha!" He chuckles
"Why thank you" I reply not sure if it was a compliment or not
"Anyways with that destroyed your at a big risk for infection and meningitis. If we fix it now that won't ever happen and it's a low-risk surgery. If we wait till you get sick then it becomes higher risk. So its best to just get it now."
"Agreed. So what are you all gonna do in the surgery?"
"well we'll first start by making an incision at the tops of your ears and cut across the top of your head, which will allow us to pull back the skin down to your eyebrows and open up your skull"
"YES! I knew it!"
"Knew what?"
"Aaaah .... nevermind" I thought explaining my families bet about the surgery methods might be awkward to explain to a guy with a P.H.D.

11:15 am
At this point in the conversation the doctor starts explain all the injuries that I received due to the blow. I nod knowingly having heard it multiple times before from other doctors. He then says that it sounds like I know what he's talking about, and I let him know it's just because I've heard this all before.
"And we're farmers so we know this kind of stuff" My mom states matter of factly
At what point farming relates to neurosurgery is beyond me. I must have missed that day in the field

11:30 am
Everyone in my family has this odd gene that makes us try and prove to people how smart we are no matter how far out of our element we are. We do this by making up random facts, analogies and statements that we have pulled out the every expanding, never proved family encyclopedia. We are all guilty of this at one time or another, not one of us is immune to it. This is proven in this next bit of dialogue between the doctor and my mom
"The sinus cavity acted like an airbag when it got crushed it saved you from dying or getting any brain damage"
"And because he was so close to the metal from where it shot off"
"Ummm, no actually the closer you are the worse it is"

6:00 pm
The Plastic Surgeon has come by to talk to me. After a once over of the old noggin he votes for surgery and says they'll fix my dent.
No more filling it with water and letting the birds bath in it I guess

February 24

10:00 am
I feel like a young Hugh Hefner. I'm waltzing around in a housecoat enjoying life's finer vices (aka fun dip) and am waited on hand and foot by lovely ladies at all times of the day. Heck I even get sponge baths like Hugh

11:00 am
I'm released once again into the real world. Allowed to join modern society. I'm scheduled to return on monday for surgery and have to come in friday for a meeting to get me ready for surgery.

February 26

2:00 pm
Me and some other surgery potentials have just finished watching an hour long video that explains most questions you might have about surgery to me. A comforting professional Anesthesiologist on the video explains to us all the risks involved, the procedures and calms our worries. His soothing voice combined with his kind hearted face ease our tensions. Once over the rest turn to there loved ones and whisper contently amoung themselves. Me always one to watch the credits continue to watch the screen.
"Nice to know that the guy telling us not to worry on this video, Dr. Armstrong, was played by the actor Doug Simpson"
This was about the equivalent of telling a room full of kids that Santa isn't real

February 27
I'm having some lunch with Abby my girlfriend and explaining to her about the surgery. She starts laughing mid conversation and in puzzlement I ask her why.
"Haha it would be hilarious if they accidentally cut a nerve and you ended up with one twitchy eye"
Horror in my eyes I stare at her hoping I heard her wrong
"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to scare you but that could happen"
So now I've been introduce to the paranoia of them randomly cutting nerves to see what messed up kind of face I'll end up with, thanks

So that's all I have for you now. I feel like I kinda rushed this one and pretty sure I missed alot more of the story. (I'll remedy it later if I make this into a book)

I hope you all enjoyed this latest rendition of Crisis of Cranium Crackage! I should have one final edition for you once I finish up with surgery, thank you all to everyone who's commented and read I've had loads of fun writing these and now plan on writing a book. When most of you read this I should be in surgery or just getting out. I'll see you all after the drugs wear off and I'm awake enough to form complete sentences Haha

Till next time, meet ya back here
Same Dan-Time!
Same Dan-Channel!

p.s. Look for the new Bald version of Danny when he gets out of the hospital! Yayness!!!

Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part Tres!

2010-04-03T20:09:00.001-07:00

And here we go with round numero three

And so now I present to you all .....

Warjournal: Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part Tres!

Feburary 16, 2010

2:00 am
I am awoken by the arrival of my newest room mate, Anthony, a Kieth Richards look alike, with an abscess in his leg. I drowsily listen as the nurses get him into his bed, and ask him the deal breaker question of "On a scale of 1 - 10 how much pain are you in?". And just like a veteran beauty pageant judge listening intently to a contestant's answer to this classic yet crucial question I am piosed and ready to condemned or praise his response.
"More than a 10 ... like a 20"
I write down a zero on his score card and know that he has alot of catching up to do if he has any hope of salvaging a friendship with me

5:00 am
A shrill high pitch cry of fear and terror has assailed my eardrums and woken me from my peaceful slumber. It's Anthony crying out for morphine, louder than a howler monkey.

8:00 am
Anthony has become my new snooze button, awaking/terrifying me every three hours with his constant cries for morphine. Luckily this mind shattering scream has woken me just in time for breakfast ....... my bedside table is barren and empty

10:00 am
Still no breakfast. I sit staring with dead eyes at my table silently hoping that somehow I'll develop a latent superpower that allows me to create food from thoughts

11:00 am
My hellish alarm clock anthony is going off once again, and I've come to the sad realization that unplugging him will not shut him up as it would an alarm clock.

11:05 am
The nurses having finished injecting Anthony full of morphine and use this time to ask if he has any allergies to medications or food. He says no but he is a vegetarian..... but he still eats fish and pork. Now I'm not usually one to get on someones case for being a Veggie, but this logic just confuddles me (plus I really didn't like this guy so I was looking for any reason critisize him)
So you've decided that eating a living creature with its own mind and soul is morally wrong, BUT! You'll still eat fish cause they obviously have no soul. I mean any animal that can breath underwater is clearly supernatural and practices in witchcraft. Hence they have no soul and there for your conscience can stay clean and free of guilt while devouring the flesh from their tiny, sharp, throat shredding bones. And as for pigs, they're cannabilistic so clearly they also lack the moral purity of a cow or chicken
You're like a married man claiming its not cheating if it's only oral.

11:10 am
Finished their conversation with Mister "I've been in the hospital for 9 hours and am already addicted to morphine" the nurses come by and ask if I need anything. I just let them know that I didn't get a breakfast. They say that they must have mixed me up with Anthony, who isn't allowed to eat today and that they'll fix it by lunch

12:00 pm
Lunch arrives, I am giddy with excitement just like a kid at their first day of school. But just like that same wide-eyed and hopeful kid my dreams are thoroughly crushed and smothered when I notice my meal is vegetarian.... Anthony will pay for this

1:00 pm
My Mom, Dad and sister Justine have arrived at the hospital. Justine has baked me a giant batch of fresh cookies, Yayness! My dad having lost his thought-to-speech filter long ago emmdiately exclaims "Wow! Your head really blew up today, you look like a lightbulb. Doesn't he look like a light bulb? Man it's huge, and your one eye is way off from the other one, like both are black and swollen but that one is kinda droopy" I then excuse myself from the room to run off into my bell tower to cry alone.
I bring the cookies, they will heal my pain

2:00 pm
Everyone in the room jumps to their feet ready to defend themselves from the demon that is wailing in our room. I inform them of my newest room mates cute quirk and they reluctantly settle back into their seats

4:00 pm
Anthony has been whisked away for surgery. My mom than takes this moment to turn to me and say "This has been really nice for you hey Danny? Really peaceful and relaxing"
"Yeah mom, it's like staying at a spa. I should do this more often"

5:00 pm
I'm dreaming I'm in a fight with boxing glove adorned racoon. Sweat dripping from my brow I stare with detrimination and resolve into the black beady eyes of my nemisis. His mask trying to hide the emotion on his face, but I a seasoned veteran trained by the great Rocky himself in the ways of the ring can see the fear that resides within those tiny furry features. His clawed feet scatter across the mat as he throws punches with wild abandon hoping to land some sort of advantage over me. I float out of his way like a hawk on the breeze and land a mighty blow directly into his left temple!
F@#$!!!
I bolt awake the IV needle in my hand throbbing from pain from the punch I so accurately landed upon the bedside desk.

7:00 pm
My roomie/alarm clock returns from surgery, he is barely aware of anything being still heavily induced by the anesthesia. But he still manages to mumble morphine, over and over again, like some poor drug addicted parrot

Feburary 17

3:00 am
awoken for the countless time by either Anthony's newly developed snoring or his harpy like shrieks. I take a moment to check myself out in the mirror
I still look like Quasimodo's hunchbackless cousin

5:00 am
The nurses are chatting just outside my room. The air is full of joyful laughter and tales of their weekend romps. Drifting in and out of sleep listening to this really seemed to affect my dreams from this day forward. And so starts the first dream episode of "Doctor Dan M.D." A drama focused around the life and loves of the local nurses and doctors at the UofA hospital. Doctor Dan M.D. is our central character who's boyish good looks and devil may care attitude have made him the lust of all the beautiful buxom nurses in the ward

9:00 am
Anthony has a visitor. And having nothing better to do I listen in on their conversation (don't judge me, we all do it. At least I admit to it) I reel in shock as I hear him proclaim to his friend that the nurses here have been wenches and refuse to give him any medication! (this statement of his burns me so much I almost break the universal eavesdropper's rule and give him my input on the whole situation) I start to envision myself running over there and drop kicking him right in the abscess!

9:30 am
An old farmer who's a friend of the family is apparently also in my ward and has dropped by for a visit. I am enthralled by the housecoat he's wearing, it's much more dignified than the peice of paper they have wrapped around my pale skinny frame. I wonder how I could get myself a housecoat like that and enter into the club of the sophisticated patients.

10:00 am
I ask the nurses if I can leave my room once again. Gaia the nurse in charge says she'll have another nurse come by in half hour and escort me around the ward to see if I'm ok to be given parole privelages

10:30 am
Leash in mouth and tail a wagging I eagerly await my walk. My escort nurse arrives and presents to me a gift .... A SHINY NEW HOUSECOAT!!! I step back, arms held out as she places it upon my shoulders like a royal kings robe. I take a moment to soak in the glorious light shining from my treasured housecoat
"Ready"
I nod my head trying to hold back the tears swelling up in my eyes. Standing at the edge of my door happiness apparent on my face as I look out at the cusp freedom. I dramatically take my first step imitating Neil Armstrong
"this is one small step for Dan, and one giant leap for Dankind"

10:35 am
After butchering a few more classic quotes, me and my escort nurse take our walk around the ward. She follows behind my every step wheelchair held out ready to catch my inevitable fall. I feel like the proverbiale egg on the end of a spoon, with her every sense focused on getting me to the end of this quick journey without having me fall and crack open thereby losing her the race.

10:40 am
After seeing that I am indeed fully mobile and not teetering like a see-saw with every step, she takes me for a tour of the whole hospital (wheel chair safety net free) And says that I am now allowed out of my room and allowed to walk around the hospital without an escort. This is the closest I will ever come in my life to getting a college diploma

1:00 pm
Doctor Dan finds himself in a sticky situation. He and his lovely leading lady Abby have dinner plans and the ritziest restuarant in town. But when Kermit the frog comes into the hospital going into cardiac arrest, Dan the only muppet certified doctor is forced to miss his date and save this dying frog's life. Will Abby forgive our dashing doctor? Is it really not so easy being green? Find out on this heart-stopping episode of "Doctor Dan M.D."!!!

3:00 pm
The neurosurgeons working on my case come by and give me an update. "Everythings going great, you're doing better than expected. You're free of brain damage, the swelling is starting to go down, no more air is leaking in and nothing is leaking out. We'll get you scanned once more to check for infections and to check out your sinus to see how thats doing. But it looks like you'll get out of here not needing any surgery!"

Feburary 18

6:00 am
I awoken by my newest nurse Ana, who is the real life version of the family guy maid Consuela
(If you don't know who that is watch this video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q2oKwds7 ... re=related)
She becomes my newly designated go-to-nurse for all my inquiries about the profession. Not because she is the most helpful, but because her answers are the most hilarious.
"Ana is it true that chicks really do dig scars?"
"A lady did this to you?"
"What? ... no"
"Why she hit you with a shovel?"
"She didn't hit me with a shovel, a big piece of metal shot like a cannon hit me in the head"
"A CANNON!? Oh deary, deary me, you must have made your lady really mad"
"Ana, my ladyfriend is in Anahiem she didn't do this to me"
".... I am confused"
"We both are"

11:00 am
Having sat peirced through my veins uselessly for the last 3 days, the nurses decide to remove my IV needles. No longer feeling like a Voodoo doll and relishing in my newly needle free fists I exclaim to Ana that I'm so happy I feel like randomly punching things. She gives me a disapproving stare and scolds "You a weird child you know that"

3:00 pm
My girlfriend Abby has gotten home from Anaheim. It's my first chance to talk to her in full detail about the whole accident. After a brief description of the injuries I recieve this text
"eww"
The cookies prove a useful comfort food once again

Feburary 19

10:00 am
The neurosurgeons are concerned about my sinus cavity and want the nose specialist to look at my scans and X-rays. I inform Abby and she tells me "If they're gonna give you a nose job you should go for the Micheal Jackson look"
"Black MJ or White MJ?"
"Don't be an idiot. Clearly the skeletal white MJ nose"

3:00 pm
The nose doctors have been in surgery all day and weren't able to look at my scans, so the lead doctor comes by and lets me know he'll look at them on the following monday. He then makes arrangements to get me a weekend pass to let me leave the hospital for a day and a half to pass the time till then.
It's official, I'm one straight jacket away from being a certified crazy

3:30 pm
I have come to the conclusion that I'm not enough of a genius in any one area of intellegence in order to become one of those "rain man" like crazy people and will have to settle for "animal obesessed" crazy person. So having chosen my future profession, I now begin my research to see which field I would like to specialize in for my diploma.
Cats seem to be a gender specific crazy. Now I could be a pioneer in the profession and become the first crazy cat man, defying odds and shattering all expectations. But this seems to be a more direct-aggressive crazy and I am a very passive-aggressive person, so this will never work. Birds might be nice, those guys are always a quiet, sweet, old man kinda crazy. Eyes constantly looking up in wonder towards their affection. Nuzzling and whispering sweet nothings into the non-existant ears of their avain lovers. It's really sweet and heart-warming in a creepy kinda way. But the clean up seems like alot of work, so let's see what else we can find. Dog people aren't crazy they're "Animal lovers". Horse people have those sparkly outfits, which never never brings out the right color in my eyes. Rats always seem to lead down the mass-murdering psycho-path road. Fish people have no social lives and reptile people are doomed virgins. And so this leaves me with one last option ....
Cows. The irony does not go unnoticed

And so ends another tale of "Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!!". On the next episode hear about my one sweet day of freedom and the nurses crusade to get me the heck out of the hospital!

See ya all back here next time!
Same Dan-time!
Same Dan-channel!

Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part Deux!

2010-04-03T20:04:00.000-07:00

So I hope you all enjoyed the first part of Crisis of Cranium Crackage and just as i promised here's part 2 .....

Warjournal: Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!! Part Deux!

Feburary 14, 2010
Valentines Day

2:00 am
I am awoken by a gentle nudge. Forgetting everything but the fact that it's Valentines day, my dream induced logic dictates that this must be my girlfriend waking me for some late night cuddling
"yes pigeon?" I ask seductively
"I need to check your vitals" A large burly samurai/nurse replies
clearing my throat and trying to regain my dignity I put on a fake gruff accent and talk manly stuff while he gently listens to my heartbeat

6:00 am
I'm staring straight into the dark abyss mentally preparing myself for another encounter with the Karate Nurse. But instead am greeted by Brianna, a kind petite blond nurse wielding a flashlight that looks better suited to be clubbing cute helpless animals to death than it is to be checking pupil dilation

8:00 am
I awake to a lovely meal of Rice Krispies, toast, and an omlette, Oh joy! .... Karate Nurse quickly runs in and informs me that I'm getting another CT scan today and he doesn't know if I can eat or not, but that he'll go find out for me as soon as he can.

9:00 am
I stare longingly at the slowly dying omlette who's love I was never meant to share

10:00 am
My mom has arrived at the hospital. She tells me I should fix my hair. I comment that with my forehead inflated as it is from swelling and the giant scar carved down it I'm pretty sure people will excuse me if my hair is a mess. And so she decides to do the motherly thing and fix it for me, but forgetting that my hair is attached to my scalp she tugs on a knot too hard and unintentionally yanks on the scar.
My hair stays a mess

11:30 am
I have just been informed I can indeed eat my breakfast .... half hour before lunch is served. Like a scorned lover I cautiously accept my breakfast back. To avoid further heartbreak I establish the rules to our relationship this time round.
1. I will eat my rice krispies begrudgingly, as I still require the nutrients they provide and they have not yet betrayed me
2. Omlette will sit in the corner alone and think about what he did to me
3. I will enjoy my miniscule apple juice last, for he is innocent in this whole affair

11:35 am
Mom "Why aren't you eating your omlette?"
Dan "It's cold"
"Don't be silly eat it, you need food"
"It's ok mom, it'll be gross and lunch is in a few minutes anyways"
"Here eat it" She starts cutting it up
"No mom, it's ok I'm fine"
"Here" She shoves the fork airplane like towards my mouth
"MOM!"
"I don't know why you're being so weird" Takes a bite
".... oh it's cold"

11:40 am
I joyfully swipe up my juice, and go to open it. My mother springs into action faster than a Marine corps vet. Offering all sorts of expertise on juice box opening, I kindly inform her multiple times that I think I can handle opening a juice whilst trying to wrestle the juice from her "helping" hands. Finally after telling her "my hands aren't crippled, I can handle opening my own freakin juice box!!!" she sits back down and asks "Why are you so cranky?"

4:00 pm
Finally meet my first of many room mates. He is a 17 year old boy who broke his arm snowboarding, I never bothered to learn his name. The nurses are helping him get settled in and ask him "on a scale of 1-10 how bad is your pain right now?" My ears perk up and listen for his response. "A 10 a really really painful 10!" ..... A TEN!?! You have got to be kidding me, let's scale this back a couple notches king douche. First of all a ten by definition of this question is the maximum painful it can be. There are 'no light and kinda fun tens' there are only 'really painful tens!' Thats why its a 10! And secondly, you're already patched up and you and me both know that you are not at your most painful you can be. Let's have the old Karate nurse there give you a Judo chop to that cast and watch you wallow in pain, bet you're rethinking your 10 rating now aren't you? ...... Amateur

5:00 pm
I'm trying to take a nap and mother starts to affectionately rub my arm not realizing I still have an IV needle stuck in that arm.... she snags the needle and drives it further into my ligaments, I react like a normal human being to pain and gasp. She apoligizes and contemplates the situation a short while then turns to me with her revelation "Guys are big wusses hey?"

6:00 pm
My Dad and sister, Justine, arrive at the hospital. Knowing my addiction to sugar the have brought me some candy. SCORE! My mother looks up and says "Oh good finally someone to talk to! It's like staying here with a mute. He sleeps most of the time and barely says anything"
I spend the next hour writing witty anecdotes on napkins and getting up to date on current events so that I'll be a more entertaining host next time I have a "Skull fracture party"

7:00 pm
My roomie, otherwise known as "king douche" is all dressed up in his finest. His hat is perched precariously atop his head and angled to the side in just the exact way women swoon over. His jeans look to have been sewed by a blind hobo out of dirty chalk cover rags as his belt unsuccessfully tries to hold them up past his knees. This 'hanging pants effect' allows us the public to see that he is a man of sophistication who wears only the finest made 10 for a dollar wal-mart brand boxers. He informs me that he's slipping out for an hour to meet his girlfriend.

8:00 pm
An older nurse comes into my room with a cart full of supplies. I look inquistively at her and she tells me its bath time. I merrily say ok and start to hop out of my bed towards the shower. "Whoa there skipper" her one arm stops my journey while the other waves a sponge in front of my face. And I lose another ounce of my dignity.

9:00 pm
Nurse Brianna has come to check mine and douchey's vitals. She inquires as to his where abouts and I let her know "He went out for a bit but should be back any second. Speaking of back, don't you hate it when the old lady giving you a sponge bath uses cold water on your backside?" I pause and wait for her inevitable laughter .... it never comes..... I crumple and throw away that napkin. Next time I'll try the bit about brain juice

11:00 pm
still no sign of douchey

Feburary 15

1:00 am
I am rudely awoken to a stumbling bumbling room mate who has finally returned from his 'quick' trip out. Brianna immediately comes flying into the room to enact her righteous vengeance upon him. I smile to myself listening as she tears into him about his behaviour and takes away all his privelages, and quietly wonder to myself who's wrath is worse? Karate nurse or tiny blond Brianna? With punishment dealt Brianna silently apoligizes to me for the noise and hopes I can get back to sleep.... I decide that Karate nurse probably would've just put a sleeper hold on me to ease me back into slumber

2:00 am
I'm awaken to take my vitals once again and have been informed that I will be switching wards. Brianna says she'll help me pack up my stuff as soon as she finds a wheelchair. She hurries off and I get up and start packing

2:30 am
I sit on my bed, bags in hand awaiting my nurses return. Brianna rushes back and says the wheelchair is on it's way. I Tell her its fine I can just walk to which she quickly informs me that its strictly against hospital policy to allow patients being moved to walk to the new ward.
I'm pretty sure she just made that up so she didn't have to say "No humpty dumpty, we can't risk your fragile little self falling."

3:00 am
Have arrived to my new ward via nurse-drawn chariot. There are cute cartoons painting on the glass here everywhere. I am taken to my new bed and it is signifigantly lower than the last, I start to wonder if I've been demoted to the kids ward. My new nurse asks me if I want a heated blanket, I say no and she replies "Hmmm the patients here are babies, they always want heated blankets" I'm afraid to ask "Do you mean literal babies or metaphorical babies?"

8:00 am
I am awoken to the overcast shadow of my mother staring intently at my scar "Hey Sweetie!"

8:30 am
I finally meet my new room mate. He is not a baby (one worry averted) His name is Robert and he''s a young military man who just had his appendix removed. When asked the crucial question he answers a reasonable 5 for pain. I like this guy. I later find out I'm in the surgery ward. I feel like the odd man out and that at some point in the plot of this adventure tale the rest of the surgery ward will challenge my right to be there, resulting in an underdog winning the day but also learning a valuable life lesson in the process

9:00 am
the Nurse in charge comes by to see me
"Oh I see surgery went well. The incision seems rather irregular though"
"Umm, no actually, unless you guys are really, really sneaky I haven't had surgery. That scar is from the hunk of metal that smashed into my head"

2:00 pm
My sister, Jade, and my Dad have arrived, and brought me candy! DOUBLE SCORE!!

3:00 pm
Friends Jeff and Laura come by for a visit and have brought me ...... you guessed it, CANDY! TRIPLE SCORE!!! It's at this point I finally admit to myself that I have a candy addiction problem. I have just taken the first step on my twelve step road to recovery program.
(in case you're wondering, right now I'm on step 3 "overdose" the step where you scarf back as much candy as you can before the authorities take it away)

5:00 pm
After asking the nurses if I can go walk around the hospital lobby for a bit, I have just learned that I have been placed in quarantine and am not allowed to leave my room.

5:30 pm
Robert has been released. I enviously watch him cross the threshold and exit our room. Once again allowed to be a part of society. I return to my Farrah Fawcett poster on the wall, flipping it aside and resume digging with a plastic spoon. Someday I will taste freedom again

6:00 pm
Alone and confined to my room, I'm enjoying some fun dip as provided courtesy of Jeff and Laura. After spending many hours studying this candy I have come to a couple of conclusions.
1. Fun dip is a genius but decieving name for this product. In combination with it's packaging and concept you are truly lead to believe that you will have a more enjoyable time eating this confectionery as compared to your average sugar pill. But alas it is all a cleverly concieved illusion. It starts off fun and carefree bringing you back to a simplier time, when catching frogs down by the pond was the days agenda, and Sesame Street was your daily news. But this feeling will quickly spiral down into frustration as your Lik-A-Stik begins to shatter off inside your dip pouches, creating giant hunks of candy shrapnel that intrude upon your fun dipping time. Your broken stub of a once proud Lik-A-Stik no longer gives you the reach you require and you're forced to open your pouches further and further, allowing more room for the rainbowy colored sugar to dissapate into the air and collect upon the front of your shirt making you look like a flambouyantly gay coke dealer
2. It is a capitalist type candy. They have copyrighted the only two great names for this product in 'Fun Dip' and 'Lik-A-Stik'. Effectively giving them control over the entire fun dip monopoly. This never would have happened in communist Russia
3. Nurses don't appreciate you lining up your fun dip powder on your table like cocaine and pretending to snort it

And so ends another addition of "Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!!"

Once again I'll have a new post about my time spent in the big house for you right away
See you all back here,
Same Dan-Time!
Same Dan-Channel!

2010-02-26T20:06:00.000-08:00

So I'm back and I have another question you've ponder that I have now answered (Kay so I haven't really ever answered any questions for you in this blog but whatever I'm gonna do so today)

Yeah, yeah i know "But Danny why none of the usual formalities?" You wanna know why? I'll tell you why you needy life sucking LEECHES!!! (I'm meant that last part in the nicest way possible.) Cause Danny almost died bringing you his latest answer that's why!

Anywhoo on with the show

Which is tougher? A thick piece of metal shot like a cannon with 20 tonnes of pressure behind it or Danny's skull?

Well dear readers on my constant quest to solve all your conundrums I have gone and field tested this one mythbusters style and will now present to you my finders in a little peice i like to call....

Warjournal: Crisis of Cranium Crackage!!!

February 13, 2010
9:10 am
arrive at work 10 minutes late

9:11 am
Lovingly stare at my cookies in the seat next to me (These cookies are crucial to the story later, remember them as they were ... delicious, chewy and tasty) and give my hula girl a little tap to get her dancing before I leave the car

9:12 am
No one else is at work so my late-ness goes unnoticed, Boo-Yahh! Great start to what is sure to be a wonderful day

9:45 am
after some clean up and prep I decide to work on the big gravel hauling truck we have in the shop. We need to remove a bushing from the suspension and it won't budge. So I've farmer rigged a push system using a 20 tonne jack, a thick piece of plate metal and some chains. System works good I begin pushing the piece out

10:00 am
The bushing is stuck again so I've grabbed a torch and crawled under the truck in order to heat the piping and loosen it up

10:15 am
Something has sparked real pruddy like and sent a glowing hot shard of metal past the safety glasses and straight into my retina .... F@#$!!!

10:30 am
I've managed to crawl out from under the truck still blind in one eye, found the first aid kit. There are gauzes and bandages (what good are those for!?) but no eye washer, suckage.

10:35 am
spot the hose in the corner

10:40 am
I am bent over the floor drain spewing the glacier cold contains of the hose directly into my eye cursing the sparks parentage

11:00 am
The metal fragment has kindly left my eye. I think to myself "well at least I got the worst of the day out of the way" (poor, sweet, naive Dan) just then Mike (My boss/friend) arrives at the shop, calls me a pussy and tells me to get to work

11:30 am
Me and Mike have successfully gotten the one bushing free, and have moved my farmer rigged jack thingy to the other side to push out the other bushing. we notice the metal plate we are using to push the pipe out with is slightly bent, we hope for the best and continue on anyways.Things are going well

11:50 am
Again the piece has gotten stuck and again I've crawled under the truck torch in hand in order to loosen the bushing. This time using a patented squinty technique with my eyes to protect them from oncomig sparks

11:57 am
I've heated the one side of the metal and repositioned myself to heat the other side, conveniently making it so that if said pipe I was heating decided to turn into a high powered cannon, my head would be it's primary target. Squinty technique is working wonderfully
(note the heavy foreshadowing in that last entry)

12:00 pm
BAMMAGE!!!

The Squinty technique! they do nothing!!!

12:00 pm
I don't know where I am, who I am, or what's going on, all I know is that every nerve in my head is on fire desperately trying to 'stop-drop-and roll' but to no avail. There is music playing somewhere. Thinking this is the source of my pain I scream at the top my lungs for someone to shut off the radio

12:01 pm
I've managed to scramble out from under the truck whilst screaming every known profanity and curse and making up a few on the spot too. I also took the time to properly shut off the torch (Of course the moment I'm leaking life juice from my head is when I take all the safety precautions)

12:03 pm
Mike has come around the truck to my aid with gauze and bandages (Ta-Da!) I ask him whats going on and why does my head hurt. He says it's best you don't know. I then feel him pull my hoodie out from inside my head, I start to realize that maybe this wasn't the music's fault after all .... maybe

12:04 pm
We've hopped into the car and are on our way to the Tofeild hospital. Mike has phoned my family and let them know what happened. My sister mishears him and thinks I have a metal pipe protruding from my forehead .... and so the rumors begin

12:15 pm
My hands have gone tingly and my head hurts worse than anything I've ever felt. Mike tells me to stay awake and to tell him a story
"There once was a boy named Daniel whose head was destroyed by a flying hunk of metal, He was in so much so pain due to the gaping wound in his forehead and the unseemly amounts of blood lacking in his body, That he couldn't think of a damn story!!!"
That's what i wanted to say but in truth all I could get out was
"..... oh boy ...."

12:30 pm
Have arrived at hospital, mom and dad have made it there as well. The Doc and nurses continually ask me "Did you get knocked out? Or at any time pass out?" To which I promptly reply "No, but I wish I had .... can we knock me out?"

12:45 pm
I'm getting X-rays and have started to go into shock. I'm shaking uncontrollably and heating up fast. I ask the nurses to please cut off my clothes. They smartly refuse, knowing that without my clothing acting as a buffer they won't be able to control their animalistic cravings to ravish my body. I would die in a porn cliche

1:00 pm
I have returned from x-ray and have begun to throw up blood. I apologize to the nurses and offer to help clean up. They laugh a knowing little laugh and tell me "I think you have bigger worries sweetie" I'm not at my most humorous right now and attempt to glare at them. In my gory state I'm pretty sure it went unnoticed, curse you bloodied face!!!

1:15 pm
The Doc has frozen my head and cleaned the wound ...... we finally see that I've cracked my skull and now I need to be rushed to the UofA hospital

2:30 pm
Arrived by ambulance to UofA, and I'm swarmed by doctors asking me all sorts of questions. What's your name? Where are you? What day is it? What happened? Does it hurt here? Here?
After answering all of them correctly and letting them know I'm fine other than my head, they stand back a tad baffled by me. It's as if I've answered the meaning of life for them

2:45 pm
Getting prepped for another X-ray and the nurse asks me if I need anything, and i let her know I'm fine but i need to go to the bathroom real bad. She says that's no problem and she'll be right back

2:50 pm
Nurse passes me a bottle. I stare at her with concern in my eyes .... "don't worry I won't look" she assures me

2:52 pm
I'm standing naked in a room full of nurses and doctors peeing into a jar. This really prepared me for the lack of shame you need when staying in a hospital for an extended period of time

3:30 pm
Getting a CT scan of the old brain. For some reason I feel like people will be mad at me for getting this scan and not having a shaved head

4:00 pm
Waiting with my mom, dad and Mike in the ER. I find out Mike drove my car there and remember my cookies! (told you they were important) I excitedly ask my mom to get them, when Mike laughs and says "You had cookies in your car .... I got hungry"

4:15 pm
Neurosurgeon comes by and explains what happened "First off you're extremely lucky to be alive, and second extremely lucky that it looks like you have no brain damage. The best we can compare this to is if some really big guy hit you in the head full force with a sledge hammer. You cracked your skull in two places, the forehead and the sinus. Air leaked into your brain from the initial blow but it looks like no more is getting in. That salty taste in the back of your throat and yellowy liquid is brain fluid, that should hopefully stop. We're gonna stitch you up and keep you here for observation to watch for risks and any further complications. If we get real lucky you might sneak by without having to go through surgery. Sound good?"
"please make the pain go away"

4:30 pm
Nurse asks me the million dollar question "on a scale of 1-10 how bad is your pain"
Now I wanted to scream "KAJILLION!!!" But I pondered this query for a moment. I was in an unbelievable amount of pain and could barely function, but I came to the conclusion that there might be a worse pain out there, and I certainly didn't wanna over step my bounds. But at the same time i wanted the strongest pain relief possible, but on the off chance they gave me a second rate pain killer I'd have some play room to get the fancy drugs. So I finally settled on a 9.
Right answer

4:45 pm
I'm in La-La land high on morphine and freezing shots. My neurosurgeon is wearing some ridiculous microscope glasses while stitching me up. I can't help but giggle every time I look up and see these oversized cartoon eyes staring back at me. He has also positioned himself as my favorite doctor by constantly saying "Oh sugar!"
My brow twitches when he injects the freezing = Oh sugar!
He gets a phone call mid-stitchery = Oh sugar!
He misplaces the cotton swab = Oh sugar!

5:30 pm
Finally stitched up and in my new place of residence. The coma ward. Kinda daunting considering my injury, but at least there'd be good conversation.

6:00 pm
I've been moved from coma to the Trauma ward. GO TRAUMA!!!

7:00 pm
I meet my new nurses who will be taking my vitals and taking care of me. They begin the first questionnaire of many that I will receive at the hospital to make sure I know who I am and where I am. The nurses notice my one pupil is bigger than the other and they call in the head nurse to ask what they should do. A tad worried I ask "What does that mean?"
"Usually it's a sign that someone was hit very severely in the head"
"Huh ..... Do you think we should check for other side effects of head trauma? Such as a cracked skull or a wound of some sort?"
My sarcasm does not go unnoticed

7:10 pm
asleep

And so ends my first day in the Crisis of Cracked Cranium. As you can see in a match up between a rocketed piece of metal and my head, Dan-O's thick noggin wins out!!!

Tomorrow I'll post up some of my experiences during my stay at the hospital. There's more shenanigans to come in this crisis so stay tuned!

See ya back here,
Same Dan-Time!
Same Dan-Channel!

Dan's head is Okay!

2010-02-25T00:36:00.000-08:00

Look at Dan's drawing from while in hospital!

Texts from last Rumble

2010-02-04T00:40:00.000-08:00

So this last Sunday was the WWE's annual Royal Rumble and for the first time in a long time this year I got back to watching wrestling again and decided to watch this event with a bunch of friends. And we decided to have a little fun and play a drinking game invented by my good friend and mentor Roger. Here's the rules if you're interested
Royal Rumble Drinking Game

Base rules:

Every time a Wrestler enters the Rumble, you drink
Every time a Wrestler is eliminated, you drink

Now the fun part Randomness:

Everyone picks one or two wrestlers, two for hardcore, one if your not. If its an old Royal Rumble, you can draw numbers/names from a hat, to decide on your wrestler.

*Shots can replace a chug.

When your guy enters the ring, you chug.
When your guy is disqualified, you chug.

Hardcore additional rules:
If your puts out a guy, everyone else drinks twice.
If your guy puts out some one else’s guy, they chug twice.
If your guy is put out by some one else’s guy you chug twice

Exceptional Hardcore:
If one of your guys puts out your other guy, you do four shots.
If a wrestler does a finisher, drink.
If an exceptional chop is done, drink.
If Ric flair woos, drink.

All in all the rumble was a radtacularly good time, and the drinking game was a blast
(some other people may argue that point and say that this was our first bad decision. I like to think it was the first bad decision in a whole lotta bad decisions that added up to one big good decision!)

Night started off pretty well, good times had by all watching some good old wrassiln' and gearing up for the rumble. Most of us including myself choose to play by the Exceptional Hardcore rules, second bad decision. We decide against replacing all drinks with straight shots, first and last good decision. And then Jay right before the match made the point that only 25 of the 30 wrestlers had been announced and that we should add another rule where we pick a 'Mystery wrestler' and if they enter the ring everyone else does 4 additional drinks. This was officially our last bad decision of the night.

For a more indepth look at the nights matches and highlights of some of the commentary from the night head on over to my friend Jeff's blog here
http://heat.rentathugcomics.com/?p=57

So we had our Rumble drinking party going on, and at the same time halfway across town Roger and his brother had their rumble drinking party going on. Me and Roger were the link between the two parties via text. And so I'd like to present to you a look at the Royal Rumble Drinking Game through a text screen.....

Dan: I picked Kane and Yoshi as my wrestlers, I think Yoshi's a japanese guy but I really hope it's the dinosaur from Mario

Roger: Dam Khalis giant man boobs and his pathetic ring out
Dan: I'd still motorboat them

D: Melissa picked CM punk and HBK Jay is gonna @#%$ punch her
R: I don't know what that means but I like it

R:Sob
R:Wanna curl

R: LOL oh man a friend picked edge
D: Laugh the booze away
R: I need to puke

D: need help I'm swimming in gay drinks
R: Beer is Gay vodka = straight sex

R:I'm something somehogn
D: I don't understand that but I support your decisions

R:Next year Buckets

R: Go go go! On to 97 rumble!
D: Your my hero and illegitamite child

D: I'm Jay's gay Friend!
R: Can I also be sparkaly gay super friend?

D: Jay finds you attractive
R: I also want to run my long fingers through his blonde hair
D: He regrets his lack of blonde hair

R: I was chugging oatmeal blackales
D: Is that 4% and you're a #@$% .... jay's words

Dan: I'm drunk ps I love yoooooooooooou! Like a midget loves a step ladder
Abby: Uh k
(Abby's my girlfriend for all you unlearned folk, and yes she is real I swear!)

R: Perkins (bleacher creature) says if you are real fans you will do another rumble
D: Jay says if you were a real fan you'll suck jays @#$%

Abby: Ya, so ur not drunk then?
Dan: No I defintly drunk like funk

R: I got Vader in 97
D: I never knew they allowed sith in wrestling
R: He beat a hooker
D: I want to father his children

R: Nice! Did people have fun there?
D: People died and you're a @$%#ing idiot ps I love you

D: He's around the toilet boo yah!
R: what was he drinking? I was doing dark ales
D: he was drinking meth
R:Hardcore I like It

D: you wanna make a
R: Baby? yes

R: Aluminum makes me hot
D: You make me feel funny like the rope in gym class

R: We just did a cheer to my friend Stevens penis!
D: We would also like to cheer to his penis

R: Nice. Please suck his left ball
D: Way ahead of you

R: I give you slivers with my penis of wood!
D: Me course

R: Pictures?
D: of my penis?

R: To the max you sweet 20 year farm boy
D: I'm 22 and a half!!!
R: Boo you lying mo to CHUG!!!
D: CHUG YOU SLUT!
R: Lies and poppy cock

R: CHUG CHUG CHUG!!!
R: that was Candance telling you to chug
D: Hello Candance is it just me or am I hot in here

D: Wanna have a bromance?
R: Um roger or Candance?
D: I can't have a bromance with candance shes a womanfolk
R: Dam her and her exquisite breads!
D: She has bread?
R: Breasts
D: Breasts are also good
D: Give me the bread and all will be spared!

R: Awe I'm so linley and without the bromance
D: stop just stop ... you had me at wood penis

R: women want girth
D: so I should get fat?
R: Yes!

R: Put a drunk to ned
D: Draw help me no their heads backwards!

R: I like the way you move
D: Lets make a music video!

D: Alive?
R: that I am but very drunk how is the sister party?
D: Done, jay is crippled, had two pass out, I'm waiting for my ride but feeling peachy

R: Sweaty and dry. I may have caused ripping. But love shall prevail
D: Are you sexting me? or was that about my mother?
R: A little bit of both
D:Good cause that got me all hot and bothered. I'm ripping off your blouse

can't wait for next years haha

Working hard for my money!

2010-01-27T22:23:00.000-08:00

Hello my blog reading peeps! And how are you this fine evening?
(points for answering this question and bonus points for answering this in the form of a question)

So you've probably asked yourself many times "Whatever could Daniel, that delicious piece of man meat, be doing whilst he is away from the webbernets?" Well ladies and stalkers alike today you're in luck, in this installment of Blog-O-Dan I shall answer that very question!

So I work at home on the family farm and as a comic book artist. But I'm just breaking into comics so every now and then I pick up odd jobs to help pay bills and give me some play money (aka hookers and blow money).

So far I've been a welders helper, picture framer, house framer, bush burner, art teacher, head of animal operations at a rodeo, construction worker, packing truck operator, Assistant manager in a department store, website evaluator and house demolisher. Right now I've picked up another odd job as an assistant mechanic on a big gravel hauling truck, we're rebuilding it from scratch. Anywhoo it's pretty fun, I get to work with my hands, build up a sweet and learn lots of junk, but the best part is the mechanic I'm working with the 65 year old man Ray.

Working with Ray is pretty much like working with Grandpa Simpson. He'll talk your ear off for an hour about trucks, fire extinguishers and swearing in the workplace and end the entire conversation by saying "and thats why me and my wife married so young"

But the best part about Ray is what he unknowingly calls his tools. I have used this to my advantage and for my own amusement. Here is an actual conversation I had with him today.

Ray "Danny have you seen the strap-on, I've been looking everywhere and can't find the sneaky bugger"

Me "I got the strap-on over here Ray, I'm just playing with the nuts."

Ray "Oh good, you keep playing with them I'll get you the rubber"

Me "But Ray I thought if we're using a strap-on you don't need a rubber"

Ray "Yes you always need a rubber, they keep the nuts dry"

Me "But ray I like getting my nuts wet, and the rubber doesn't feel good, besides there's no risk of disease with a strap-on"

Ray " ...... what do you mean no risk of disease .... just put the rubber on it's good for the nuts trust me when you get as old as me you'll learn these things"

Me "Does that mean when I get older I'll have to use the strap-on too Ray?"

Ray "Oh no, you should always use them, strap-ons do wonders for you"

Me "Great my girlfriend will be happy she loves strap-ons"

Ray "Oh so she's something of a mechanic too?"

Me "nope just loves strap-ons ... hey let me see those nipples"

Ray "What? Why? We don't need nipples there"

Me "I just like touching them when I work with the strap-on Ray, flicking them, nibbling on them, just having fun"

Ray ".......... haha never heard of that before but ok, as long as you get the work done"

The majority of our conversations are like this, me poking fun and giggling to myself at the sexually charged tool names and him utterly befuddled by what I'm saying. But then at the end of today old Ray hit me with one outta left field that went something like this ......

Ray "Oh boy Dan you should have seen my daughter when she was younger, about your age, man was she tight"

Me " ............ " *frozen in place with a deer-in-head-lights look on my face*

Ray "Me and my wife always said we couldn't believe how tight she was, cause she certainly never got it from us"

Me "uuuhhhh ......."

Ray "All the young boys and girls always said she was the tightest haha"

Me *at this point I lost all color in my face*

Ray "You'd have loved her, its so great dating a girl like that, they pinch every penny and you never have to spend a dime on them"

Me "OH! You mean tight with her money!"

Ray "yeah .... why?"

So I got about another week of work with old Ray, should provide me with some interesting stories haha

So thats all for me today, catch you all back here again, whenever I update this thing again, and as a parting gift I leave you all with a question.

Who were some interesting co-workers in your life?

2010-01-10T14:06:00.000-08:00

Welcome one and all, young and old, hottie's and nottie's! To the experience known only as Blog O' Dan!

Usually the first post is where a blogger (me) gives you a little background information about themselves in order to make the reader (you) feel as if they have some sort of pseudo relationship with the blogger. I shall skip those pleasantries today and come back to them another day. For now there is a more pressing matter at hand ..... my review of the movie "The Last Unicorn"

The Last Unicorn is a wondrous movie from my youth. A simple story about a unicorn on a journey to discover if she is truly the last of the unicorns. It was a animated film featuring the voice talents of Mia Farrow, Saruman, Mrs. Potts, the Duracell commercial guy, and the grandpa from Little Miss Sunshine.

The movie opens up with some dimwitted hunters smashing through a forest with a yapping mutt leading the way. The older much wiser hunter then pronounces that theirs clearly a unicorn lives here. As we can clearly see the magic of the unicorn gave the animals in the forest the supernatural power of common sense to avoid a blabbering hunter speeding through the woods at mach 2. He then decides to move onto easier prey (most likely located in a farmers pen or butcher shop window) and then exclaims to the unicorn "stay where you are poor beast, this is no world for you. Stay in your forest and keep your trees green and your friends protected, and good luck to you for you are the last!". This is when we finally see our hero of the story, the last unicorn. She seems a tad concerned by this proclamation and then we cut to a wicked opening song.

So now Miss unicorn is frolicking about the woods contemplating if this could be true. In the midst of bragging about how intelligent and wise the unicorns are she comes across a delusional butterfly who sounds like a A.D.D. child in control of a radio knob. Of course this is the first and only creature she seeks advice from on this topic of gravest concern. At this point it is entirely possible that the rest of the unicorns went extinct drowning in a river trying to save their own reflection. The Butterfly tells her some gibberish about a Red Bull chasing all the unicorns away. And so with this solid bit of info she sets off in search of her fellow unicorns.

So now she's on the road "littliest Hobo" style where she first encounters a deformed farmer who thinks she's a horse. The farmer is a great example of second of two classes of people we find in this world, the "Giant-sized Midgets". A creepy race of people that appear to possess the disproportionate sized head and limbs of a midget but still hold a commanding height of 5'5. Just think of the possibilities, a midget that can ride a rollercoaster! Our other race is seen later in the story, the "Lollipop Guild". They are a people that resemble lollipops with their large craniums and beanpole bodies.

Back to our story, so Miss unicorn has been traveling for quite some time and has now decided to sleep in plain view on the side of a well used roadway. How any unicorn ever made it to adulthood is beyond me. So during her dreamy slumber Momma Fortuna's traveling creature show happens upon her and they decide to capture and cage her. What an unforeseen completely unavoidable turn of events!

So now our unicorn hero is part of this animal freak show where she meets Schmendrick the magician. This is also where we are treated to not one, not two, but three, yes count 'em THREE saggy harpy bird nipples! Momma Fortuna aka. the ultimate crazy bird, lady rants and raves about how she caught the harpy and her mythical three nipples to the unicorn. Uni warns her that those magical avian nips will be the death of her, but Fortuna brushes it off cause little did we know but death by harpy is #1 on her top 20 deaths list. Anywhoo, later that night Schmendrick lacking money and a modern day Humvee, tries to compensate for his lack of manlihood by freeing the unicorn (Cause nothing says "I'm a man" like letting your unicorn outta the closet). The unicorn then does what any kind hearted person would do and also sets free the tri-breasts ... I mean Harpy! The Harpy immediately starts wheeling about in the air when Momma Fortuna runs out in orgasmic glee begging to be pummeled to death by the triplet milk bags. The Harpy is all too happy to oblige and treats Fortuna to the world's greatest death scene, death by tit-slap.

On her way again and now with a tag-along of this prepubescent magician Schmendrick. Eventually on their journey they run into a gang of bandits who take Schmendrick prisoner. They are lead by the Brave Captain Cully and his woman Molly Grue, who decides to save Schmendrick and offers him food and a bed. Schmendrick spends the night with them as they argue over whether or not Robin Hood exists. It is at this point Schmendrick possibly tripping on acid decides to show his appreciation to Captain Cully for saving his very life by creating illusions of Robin Hood. But it seems that when Captain Cully rounded up his band of merry men, he just high-jacked the nearest short bus full of window lickers and called them a gang. Cause his gang wildly runs off into the woods abandoning Cully, shelter and food so that they may chase the bright and shiny illusions, like moths to a flame.

So Captain Cully doesn't appreciate the loss of his moth-brained minions and decides to punish Schmendrick by tying in a very awkward position to a very well endowed tree. It's at this point Schmendrick shows his true talent and decides to do some sorta magic humbo jumbo and some how ends up giving the tree an even more impressive set of mammaries and brings her to life! So now we're treated to a buxom tree molesting a scrawny magican. If heaven was covered in bark and full of foliage then Schmendrick had found himself smothered between both her ginormo breasticles! But alas it twas to good to be true, turns out she was a tad too talky for his taste (how on earth he ever even heard her with his head enveloped between those barky knockers is beyond me) and so just as he once saved her the unicorn now saved Schmendrick from being rooted by marriage .... haha see what I did there.

Moooooving right along, so they escape the rape tree. But wait just a midget my good readers, Molly Grue has blocked their path and just now notices the giant white billboard that's been walking around this whole time. She reacts by going batshit insane on the unicorn for "not being there" and "not saving her". Molly seems to blame the unicorn for her high school love knocking her up at the tender age of 16 and left without paying a single bit of child support. The handy thing about being batshit insane or drunk whatever Molly's case may be, is that like a drunken abusive mother she quickly forgives the unicorn and decides that she'll join this merry band of misfits.

So now they've arrived in King Haggard's kingdom where supposedly the red bull lives, the same red bull that comes out at night to capture all the unicorns. So that night sleeping on the middle of the road again (Unicorns don't learn their lessons well) They are suddenly attacked by the red bull!!! Molly shreiks at Schmendrick to save the unicorn, who's been sitting aside this whole time transfixed by the light of the bull. He finally snaps to his senses and saves the day in a big way by changing the unicorn into a woman .... a naked sexy woman, the likes of which this cartoon has been lacking up until now. The bull runs off confused by the sudden addition of breasts to our hero. Of course Molly and her drunken mood swings kick in again and she scolds Schmendrick saying "You trapped her in a human body! She'll go mad!" translation, she'll become a tramp. Anywhoo the unicorn now known as Lady Amalthea is slightly peeved at her lack of clothes but they continue on to the castle anyways.

So now we're at King Haggard's castle which is run by the man himself, his son Prince Lir, a weird wizard, and a cat with an eye-patch. So introductions are made, the wizard is fired and replaced by Schmendrick, and the King declares that he'll "look at them all" making me wonder if only King Haggard had a playboy then maybe this whole mess could've been avoided. So next we're treated to a montage of random events at the castle with a spotlight on Prince Lir running about murdering a dragon who was apparently was terrorizing a mouse or something with his snoring. Lir decapitates the befuddled dragon and gives it's bloody head to Lady Amalthea (unicorn) in order to "woo" her. For some reason possibly because she's a stuck up prude, she's not instantaneously turned on by the dead carcass. So a bunch of other things happen, not really all that important so we'll skip them, and head straight to the top of the castle where Haggard tells Amalthea in a Maury Povich style way that Lir is adopted and a complete disappointment to him. All this scene was missing is some chair throwing and Haggard yelling "You don't know me! You just jealous! SIT DOWN SIT DOWN!!"

Now we find ourselves in the bottom of the castle where they've just found the bones of a junior high girl, proven by him getting "drunk" without actually haven drunk anything. He lets slip how to find the red bull but then warns Haggard, so a chase ensues and a fight, things break, swords clash and all that. In this moment it is revealed to Lir that Amalthea is actually a unicorn to which he disturbingly reveals that he doesn't care "he loves who he loves" .... wonder how many sheep got stuck in the fence in Lir's life and had to be 'pushed' through. But enough of beastiality cause just then the Red Bull storms onto the scene and starts attacking Amalthea! Schmendrick quickly changes her back to a unicorn but she is driven towards the ocean by the red bull. In panic with what to do they all scramble about while the red bull calmly walks the unicorn to the water. It is then that Schmendrick inspires Lir to do the heroic thing and save the unicorn. Lir motivated by the words runs valiantly to save her jumping bravely in front of the bull's charge tiananmen square style. But alas the bull proves to much for him (he wasn't asleep and not sucker punched like the rest of Lir's victims) and he plows right over him. The unicorn is spurred into heroics at this point and stands up to the bull. Neither actually attacks each other at any point they kinda just fight with death stares, and the unicorn having the deadlier stink eye than the bull, wins out. The rest of the unicorns then burst out from the waves like the oceans delayed knuckle children of victory! If the last unicorn were a porno this scene would be it's 'money shot'.

The day is saved!!! The unicorns are free once more and Haggard falls dying in his crumbling castle trying to claim that he knew all along she was a unicorn just like that annoying guy who claims he knew who Keyser Soze was all along.

So that is how our wonderful childrens tale unfolds. A beautiful family friendly tale, about molestation, tri-mammaries, beastiality and possibly drugs.

Anywhoo so that's all for my first blog, I'll catch you all back here in a weeks time, seeing as apparently I agreed to do this weekly.

See ya next time,

Same Dan-time

Same Dan-channel