I have always found that looking up health questions on the Internet usually is not very helpful. The vast majority of the time when I look something up its either:
a) nothing
b) cancer.
I developed some little tiny white nodule on my tongue the other day. At first I thought I had bitten it or burned it or something, however I had no memory of doing that. (Not very unusual for me) On closer inspection there was a little white dot on my tongue. I do not believe I have ever had something like that before, so I looked it up. Turns out it can be anything from herpes to canker sores to inflamed taste bud to cancer. It seems to be fading a bit today so ill just ignore it and later tonight douse it with some medical grade alcohol. (AKA Jim Beam)
Over the weekend I ate part of a watermelon. It was not very good. It was the seedless kind. They are rounder than normal watermelons and frankly they do not taste as sweet. That is a good parable on life: Seedless watermelons are not as sweet. I still have the other half in my fridge, but I have no urge to eat it. I might toss it out tonight.
I conked out early last night, at something like 8pm. I woke up this morning and became aware of a low rumbling sound. It started to annoy me and I combed the house looking for it, trying to figure out what could make such a sound. I cannot hear high-pitched noises so I am very attuned to low pitched noises. I cannot hear someone talking outside my window, but I can hear a car door thump close down the street. So the rumbling noise was talking up all of my sense. I began to think that a UFO was hovering above my house and I was feeling the rumble of its engines. Eventually I found the source. I had pulled one of those back-massager pads out of the closet. Somehow it had gotten turned on during the night. It was under a blanket so I could not feel it.
Yes, I know, exciting story.
I got a new debit card in the mail last night. My old one was growing ratty and no longer worked in grocery-store swiper machines. So I called the number on the card today to activate it. They made me listen to a commercial. I punched in the keys I was supposed to, and then a canned commercial started playing on how I can make myself even deeper in debt. I was not even annoyed. I am so used to it. I just sat there and listened to the recording drone on, feebly wondering if my card was now activated. I guess I'll find out at lunch.
My parents just bought some land in Old Forge which is located in upstate New York. It's pretty exciting. Nine acres in the woods, all running along a small river that is calm enough to go tubing in. My parents are putting the land in my sisters names and mine as well as their own so when they die it will automatically belong to my sister and me. That was pretty nice of them. Next time I take a vacation I am going to go up and visit it. Scope me out a nice spot to put a little cabin on. It's going to be my northern retreat.
Ghost Hunters marathon on tonight, and the season premiere. You know the season premiere is going to be a good one. They are shooting it at the hotel the book 'the shining' was based off of.
2026 Update
I'm setting the dial to May 31, 2006, where Ed's tongue, a false UFO, and a seedless watermelon all demand his attention.
What a perfect artifact of 2006! The internet has only ever told you that you're dying, and your cure is a commercial-grade whiskey. Now, twenty years later, if I lick a sore I ask a chatbot, and it will confidently recommend 'schedule an immediate biopsy' or 'add more fiber.' Seedless watermelons are still sold everywhere, but now they're joined by 'personal-sized' and 'sugar baby' varieties that all taste like a vague rumour of fruit, while the seeded heirlooms cost more than a mortgage payment. Activating a debit card these days doesn't require listening to a debt-promotion jingle; it requires downloading an app, accepting eleven permission screens, and proving you remember your childhood pet's name to a bot. And the Ghost Hunters marathon? We don't get season premieres on channel 40 anymore. We get nine streaming services all asking if we're still watching, while they shuffle the same four grainy hotel ghost episodes around. Also, having nine acres in upstate New York now means either a family compound or a future 'glamping collective.' You still can't hear high-pitched noises, but you can definitely hear a smart speaker silently listening.
“2006 Ed, why did you decide that dousing a mysterious tongue nodule in 'medical grade alcohol' was wiser than calling a doctor? And was the seedless watermelon's lack of sugar really the parable, or just your excuse to finally toss that sad half?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2006 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, you gotta understand, doctors cost money and Jim Beam's right there in the cupboard. I figure if it's cancer, whiskey won't fix it, but if it's just an annoyed taste bud, it'll be too drunk to complain. Also, I'm a guy who fell off a roof and waited three days before deciding maybe I should mention it to somebody. So no, calling a doctor never even crossed my mind. And the watermelon? Yeah, that was probably half excuse. The seedless thing was sweeter in theory, but that half had been sitting in my fridge getting that weird cold-watermelon sadness, and I knew I wasn't gonna eat it. I just needed to make it sound like a life lesson instead of admitting I waste food. But I do stand by the parable: seedless watermelons are a pale imitation, just like my self-restraint.
