Hairball

Imagine being a creature where you have to lick yourself clean, and part of that job means swallowing hair, and then every so often you have to vomit/choke it up. The cat vaulted off the bed in the middle of the night to undertake this sickening chore, and was so disgusted by it, sent itself to the corner (well, beside the heater), for the rest of the morning. I literally couldn't find the cat after doing a thorough Navy Seals thing, and then when light streamed through the curtains I noticed it was hiding behind the heater. Poor kitty!

My back was marginally better this morning, but still woke up thanks to lower based eina. Think the problem is a combination of drinking too little water and not so great digestion (aka constipation). The constipation is new because of reduced training volume...but I've started doing some treadmill running the last few days, and some gym, hence the 'slight' improvement, I think.

My story on Medicine was published, warts and all, on reporter.co.za this morning, front page. I say warts and all because it has some glaring errors, some are mine but some aren't (This one isn't mine: changing sort've to sort have. This one is: I have a 'to' instead of 'so'.) But there are plenty besides. If I was a self respecting writer I should shut down my computer, write a (suicide) note of apology, and hang myself from the tree overshadowing my car (from which birds on a daily basis poo poo their opinion of global warming and easy motoring).

I'm Cake King today so have provided the team with 40 pancakes, and some cinammon sugar for flavour. A slightly more cheapskate version of my previous Cake Day (where I ordered and fetched 4 large steaming Scooters pizzas). Then again, I was tempted to bring a loaf of white bread, with a butterknife and a tub of lard.

This weekend will likely involve far too much watching of television. It's far more tempting at 108 to stay up late watching DSTV (despite eyelids beginning to pierce the toothpicks inserted to keep them open), than finding anything on non-satellite.
Last night I watched triathlon, including Sweetlund, a Canadian, popping in an international race in Des Moine due to heat exhaustion. She walked a bit like a clown, big steps, nose high in the air... Except it wasn't funny, and every girl over the line collapsed on the podium. That's a personal glimpse at global warming. If anyone is going to be sensitive to too high temperatures, it's going to be athletes.

I also watched Entertainment E (Extreme Hollywood), about the offscreen, yet sort've onscreen antics (I suppose I should specify that they are sexual) of actors like Ron Jeremy and Charlie Sheen, and non actors like Paris Hilton and Pam Anderson. Was quite shocking to see how many of these sexual videos are out there. The most disgusting is probably from Tom Sizemore (who should probably think of a name change...Sizeless..?) Thanks to the clips from last night's episode I won't be able to watch Saving Private Ryan or Black Hawk Down without thinking...oh ja, that guy.
Not to be a killjoy or anything, but there are only a select few who should even consider the Porn Merchant path. A flabby body, but lightning, bad camera shots etc just doesn't have the same appeal - sorry (not that I would know).

Back to the (safer) weekend topic...will probably get on a bicycle of some kind...either for spinning, or on an actual real live road. Probably on Sunday. And I need to churn out at least 5 chapters since Human and Rousseau want a complete manuscript, not just sample chapters. So it's quite funny, my mission for the next few weeks: quickly write a book. What I like about 'Holiday' is I know exactly where the story is going, what happens to the principal character and why. That's been true of other things I've written, but it was never this clearcut. So I think it's a good thing. The next two days will also be crucial to test the backache-constipation theory.