FACE NOT RECOGNIZED

Saturday

Gagging. Nausea. Tinnitus on High alert. Nothing tastes right. Everything makes me want to hurl. Water tastes like salty spit. My thirst battles with my narrowed throat. After every radiation treatment , I am very conscious of the inflammation in there. Microwaved tongue! Fire in the hole!

It’s like there is something dying in my throat.

Hey!

News Flash!

We’re killing cancer in here.

Lump is doing his best Karen Carpenter impression, liquefaction in fractions, slowly melting like an ice cream cat wearing a tinfoil hat in the shape of a waffle cone. “Calling all Occupants in my Throat- notice to evict.

Lump is less than half the “man” he was once. A mere shadow of his former carcinogen. Ladies and gentlemen- the Incredible Shrinking Lump.

This weekend we finished the recording tracks for The Nightflower Orchestra. Now on to mixing. And then of course, paying for what we’ve done.

Recording costs are relatively inexpensive these days at about $3000. Still we haven’t had opportunity to play and raise any money.

Any Executive Producers out there? Anyone who would like to be a Patron?

The record sounds phenomenal so far with 5 songs. We can offer presales or some kind of combination. What do you think?

Sunday

The story this weekend has been my weight loss. I am now down to my fighting weight. In this corner, Kid Cancer, and the No Name Challenger.

I have to concentrate on getting enough calories. Which is hard because nothing tastes like anything and my throat and tonsils are so inflamed that swallowing is a challenge.

But no wallowing is allowed, although we do encourage swallowing.

I was going to go see The Little Mermaid on Sunday with my daughter. A Daddy Daughter Day. But after driving over to pick up the new Fuck Cancer t-shirts, I was exhausted.

“No gallivanting”rules in full effect now. .

Weighed myself. I now weigh the same as I did when I was 20. As Guy Clark said in his immortal song LA Freeway, “ Here’s to you, old Skinny Dennis. The only one I think I will miss. “

I’m 167 lbs near naked. For reference, after my bypass I weighed in at 185 lbs, down from 195-200 lbs. 33 lbs down from 2 years ago.

Monday

Had my radiation this morning. Now I am getting an IV so I can get some liquids in me. Also sipping Ensure, the Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner of Champions. I would complain about the taste, but it’s not so bad. At least it is going down. Below a photo of how they warm up to try to warm up the veins. One more thing to be self conscious about- apparently I have very small veins.

Facial recognition no longer recognizes me. This phenomena happens to a certain extent with chemo radiation patients. Also we start missing fingerprints. It’s like I’m in Witness Protection.

My wife was shocked at how many wrinkles my hairless chin has now. The hair on my beard is very sparse. When the weight comes down, metabolism increases, and you need more calories. It’s a bit of a vicious cycle.

JUST PUDDING IT OUT THERE

When you read the ingredients in this product, you know why they call it pudding.

Pudding.

It’s a funny word. It’s origin goes back to sausage.

The word pudding is believed to come from the Latin word botellus, meaning sausage, possibly leading to the French boudin, originally from the Latin botellus, meaning "small sausage", referring to encased meats used in medieval European puddings. Another is from the West German 'pud' meaning 'to swell'.

Is that what “pud” means? The Brits call all sorts of desserts “pudding.” Sticky pudding, steamed pudding, baked pudding.

The reason for using the word 'pudding' instead of dessert is actually based on the British class system. Traditionally, pudding referred to homely and rustic desserts that were commonly eaten by the lower classes, such as spotted dick and rice pudding.

Normally I love pudding. Apparently it’s also slang for the Va-jay-jay. So pud is correct.

I shudder to look of the origins of spotted dick. But we must be made of stronger constitutions. Never fear the etymology.

Spotted" is a reference to the dried fruit in the pudding (which resemble spots). "Dick" and "dog" were dialectal terms widely used for pudding, from the same etymology as "dough" (i.e., the modern equivalent name would be "spotted pudding"). In late 19th century Huddersfield, for instance, a glossary of local terms described: "Dick, plain pudding. If with treacle sauce, treacle dick.

Treacle dick. Or duck. As in Duck Cancer. Are we deciding band names again?

Today’s favour is to ask each one of you to forward THIS IS NOT MUSIC !, or any other stack you have enjoyed to a friend who you think might enjoy it.

Some call this marketing.

I call it making friends. I’m no Treacle Dick.

Music recommendations:

Raye- black mascara, ice cream man

Lucinda Williams -Where The song will find me

Count Basie -Come together

Feist - Love who we are

Miley Cyrus- Flowers

Bob Dylan - What was it you wanted- from Shadow Kingdom ,The Wicked Messenger

Leon Russell/ Marc Benno When you wish upon a fag.

(cigarette that is)

Sparks- There’s A Girl in my Latte

Beau Wheeler Flying Colours- the whole freaking CD!!!!

Guess who made my day?!!

This beautiful man picked me up after my session today. I got to play for them the new Nightflower Orchestra rough mixes, got a copy of his new cd, and went for nice short walk.

Beau Knows!

Be like Beau.

Buy a Judys Fuck Cancer t- shirt!