Tag Archives: testicular cancer

A small favor to ask….

No, I don’t need a date to the prom, new widgets for further farlking of the KLR or bail money.

I’ve got this friend named Dave who just got home from the hospital after, in a matter of a few days, having chest pains, going to the ER, getting diagnosed with stage 3 testicular cancer, getting a ball cut out and going through a few rounds of chemo.

Needless to say, it’s been a tad fucked for Dave as of late. Read about it from his perspective here on his blog.

Despite the good recent changes to the healthcare system have afforded most folks, Dave in in a deep hole funds wise because of this and could use a few ducats.

 

Yes, I’m begging for money on another’s behalf because if you knew him, you’d do the same. There is a GoFundMe page set up for this fine fellow and it would be a most gracious gift to give.

 

Whether you read this because I badgered you into it, cane upon it by accident, are a KLR aficionado fully farkled with a few extra dollars in yer pocket or just a friend heading out to get a mocha frappachino with extra caramel and whipped cream, make a one day exemption and throw $5 at Dave and spend the rest of the day floating on the good karma pink cloud.

 

THANKS!

Advertisements

2 Weeks and a wakeup!

Should the gods lose interest in my torment, the above noted time frame shall see me ripping balls out in Mighty Whitey:

image

the fuck out of Ideeho and back to Bend, OR – home sweet home! 3 summers in and I have yet to find a reason to refer to Idaho as anything other than The Arkansas of the NW. A (typically) well paying gig keeps me returning to fund the school adventure, but a toll is taken. The shit fire season and isolation from friends for the summer has only been tempered by having the KLR to fuck with constantly. That thing is tip top.

I realize I have it pretty good and am seeking no sympathy, but must vent my frustration so as not to get all super cranky and inflict my Cunty Old Man on the co-workers.

One more go may be necessary at this gig depending how funding goes over the school year. Ugh, that’s depressing, yet, oddly enticing.

Suffering is an art form, especially the self inflicted variety.

On the plus side, I get to go to Hummer training today. No, not that kind, I could probably figure that out on my own. No, the BLM has engines, ginormous pieces of shit, built on the Hummer platform and specialty training is necessary to operate them. The bonus being it may allow me to have my own engine with only one crew member should I return next season. Poor fucker…

While some may disparage being 43, owning little more than will fit in a ‘97 Soob, being single with no breedings, and basically doing whatever the hell I wish, I must say it is a dandy way to experience life. The single thing can be a bummer at times, but we’ll let that resolve itself in its own time.

A shout out to friend Dave in the hospital recovering from getting a ball cut out and chemo for other parts of his body the cancer spread to. Glad you caught it and your crankiness shall remain with us.