This Wheel Shall Explode

You can probably file this under too much information, a TMI if you're abbreviation minded. Be warned, and put down that bagel dog, there's about to be some potty humor.

So Saturday, Beth was going out, I was going to stay home with Kickers and I'm thinking, "What do I want for dinner on a home alone Saturday night?" Then I thought, "If they knew the Death Star was coming, why didn't they evacuate the Yavin Rebel base? I understand the logistics of moving an entire base, but at least get the people out of there." And then I thought, "I'm really into "This Wheel's On Fire" off the first album by The Band. I mean I like the bluesy, sort of dirge-like take Dylan does, but there's an energy to The Band's version that is palpable." Then I reigned it back in and thought about dinner.

A salad, thought I, a glorious salad with red bell pepper and cucumber and toasted pecans. Perhaps some parmesan, and some breaded white meat chicken. So I went to the store and picked up some breaded chicken for this glorious salad of mine, but unbeknownst to me at the time, I picked up the blazing hot, Buffalo wing style chicken tenders. "No problem," I continued to think to myself, sidelining myself long enough to think that there may be a need for medication with all of this inner monologue, "I'm not a baby. I can handle the heat." And handle it, I did.

And then came Sunday.

Sunday morning I awoke with a little condition I like to call "Hot Ass in the Morning", or HAIM, again for those of you who are abbreviation minded. Coincidence that the acronym is the same as the last name of one of the Corey's? I think not.

Now, I used to get a little Hot Ass in the Morning after drinking Henry Weinhard's in college, but you expect some collateral damage after drinking a case of cheap, "hand crafted" beer. But this... My god, Sunday it was like crapping broken glass; broken glass made of lava and sharks - small sharks to be sure, but bitey and all aflame. That'll learn ya to go for Buffalo spice chicken tenders as a midnight snack while you're home alone watching The Departed, I thought. Then I started singing "This Wheel's On Fire" just to distract myself from the pain.

This case of HAIM added a little unpredicted zest to my audition Sunday morning, which coincidentally enough was for a stage adaptation of the Corey Haim film Prayer For The Rollerboys. I decided to use it as a character trait.