A brief update on Operation: F U Matt and Jake...

I ran 7 1/2 miles on Saturday in just under an hour. On Sunday my leg hurt. Not a good sign. That is all.

Can't complain about this...

Thanks for the shout out Express.

TWSS Friday

It's Friday. You know what that means. Today is our first ever reader submitted "that's what she said." That's right, I take reader submissions so feel free to hit me up email style and you'll be considered for this prestigious honor. On with it:

Amanda was trying to figure out how to use a flash drive for her computer.

Amanda: Where do I put this thing?
Kenny: You have to put it in the back.
(Dramatic Pause)
Kenny: That's what she said.

I wish.






PS TWSSF needs a logo, if anyone is bored and knows how to do that kind of thing have at it. I'll totally use it. The more Micheal Scott/Dwight Schrute the better.

So me and my blog are in a little bit of a blogument right now. You might say I'm in the bloghouse. You see, I totally forgot our one year blogiversary last Sunday. I know, I'm such an a hole. I tried to explain but the blog wasn't having any of it. I said, "I'm sorry blog, I've really had a lot on my mind lately, things have been real stressful at work." Which is all a lie but whatever. I said, "I'll make it up to you baby, I promise." I'm pretty sure you're suppossed to write a flowery post about how much you've grown over the last year and how much you appreciate all your readers and commenters but my blog doesn't want to hear it. Oh well, I'll just have to write some funny posts, get my stats up for a week or two and me and blog will be like peas and carrots again. Then maybe next year I'll remember my blogiversary.

Cracker Barrel

I went to Cracker Barrel last weekend. Let me give you a review. It’s awesome. I grew up in the south, and while I wouldn’t exactly say I had a very southern upbringing when I go to a place like Cracker Barrel I like to get a pretend feeling of nostalgia for the simpler times when mom rang the dinner bell and the whole family sat down at the table for a southern style home cooked meal. In reality though my mom is Irish, we ate a slab of meat and potatoes most nights, and most of the time I ate it while watching TV or playing Nintendo. But it’s nice to pretend. Also Cracker Barrel is easily the most hilarious restaurant you’ll visit. There are never less than 1,500 people waiting to be seated at a Cracker Barrel. Which is ironic because they are always in the middle of nowhere. I’m fairly certain if you’re town eclipses the 2,000 citizens mark you’re automatically banned from having a Cracker Barrel. It’s mainly tour buses full of old people and church type groups. I love this because if you’ve ever been a waiter you know that these are some of the absolute worst costumers to deal with. If you’re a patient person who doesn’t mind slow service you can just sit back and enjoy the scene. If you pay close attention you’ll notice that the entire staff always seems to be muttering as the walk away from a table. There all about more request for extra biscuits away from shooting up the place. Anyway, you’d think that the perpetual 40 minute wait would discourage you from going there, but you’re wrong friend. Cracker Barrel has you covered. Take a load off in one of the rocking chairs on the front porch and play some checkers. If you have bat ears you might even be able to hear them call your name over the “loud” speaker. If checkers doesn’t suit your fancy you can have a look around the general store. There you can find an amazing selection of denim shirts. I personally took this opportunity to purchase about 30 lbs. of “old fashioned” candy for approximately 45 cents. It was quite a deal. As I type I’m enjoy some of my Gilliam Old Fashioned Wild Cherry Drops.

The food here is spectacular. Everything is fried. You can’t go wrong with frying something. If you cut out a hunk of my ass, slathered it in buttermilk, flour, and bread crumbs I’m pretty sure I would eat it and love it. Fortunately I didn’t have to do that because Cracker Barrel has a fine selection of fried animals. I went with the chicken fried chicken. Perhaps a redundant title but who cares, smothered in gravy it’s delicious. Can someone answer me a question? Why do we bother with fine dining when I can get chicken fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, apple sauce, cornbread, biscuits, and a lemonade for like $6? Anyone?

There was one thing that concerned me though. I think they might be taking the southern theme a little too far. The dining room was basically separated into three equal sections. We were seated the back third and couldn’t help but notice we were in the minority. Not only were all the black people seated in the same section in the back, but they were being waited on by the only black waitresses in the restaurant. Coincidence? I’ll let you decide.

That's What She Said

It's That's What She Said Friday! Let's get to it. My friend Brian was recently married. Early this week he was discussing his ring, specifically how it fit. The follow is a snippet of that conversation.

Brian: I really have to work it to get it off.
Me: That's what she said.

Indeed!

Thoughts

Just a few thoughts I've had recently:

-Headline writers have to be absolutely elated with Mike Vick's indictment. I mean imagine the pun possibilities. Their heads are on the verge of exploding just thinking about it. ESPN.com has already changed their headline three times today. All dog/dog fighting related puns. I’m totally giddy in anticipation of how hilarious this trial will be. (Also, who fights dogs? What a dick.)


-Please click on this link and read the lyrics to T-Pain’s Buy U A Drank. Seriously how is this song a hit? These might be the worst lyrics ever written. “We In The Bed Like Ooh Ooh Oh, Ooh Ooh.” Those are the words to a song. For real. You know it’s awful when you can legitimately say that Yung Joc blew T-Pain out of the water with his verse. How do you even get a record contract with this incredible lack of talent? Oh wait, I remember, T-Pain is the genius behind the classic hit “In Love Wit’ a Stripper.”

-I bet a friend on Saturday that the Yankees would make the playoffs. They are 3-0 since the bet and I remain confident in this bet, obviously my confidence has brought them confidence. Before and during the all-star break there was a lot of talk about what percentage baseball the Yankees would have to play to catch the Sox and how it was nearly impossible. Well as the season stands today, if the Red Sox were to win 95 games they need to win games at a .550 clip (the equivalent of an 89 win season). The Yankees would have to win a little under 68% (a 109 win season) of their games to keep up with that pace. While that would be an amazing pace to keep for an entire season (which the Yankees have done by the way) I don’t think it’s even remotely out of the realm of possibility for them to do it over the second half. And it would not be much of a drop off at all for the Red Sox to play .550. Oh and when they go 18-5 in their next 23 games (all against 5 of the worst 7 teams in the AL) then they only need to play .625 the rest of the year to reach 95 wins. It’s going to happen.

-Is the Who’s Now? competition on ESPN not the worst idea ever? I call it a competition for lack of a better word. I guess what it really is a way for ESPN to kill 10 minutes on Sportscenter so they aren’t forced to show WNBA highlights. How doesn’t hate this idea though? Who’s more now Dale Earnhardt Jr. or Chuck Liddell? Kobe Bryant of Ronaldinho? Tony Parker or Roger Federer? Who gives a shit? What does Now even mean? Even writers on ESPN are making fun of this. I bet the people who green lighted this idea are already fired. Everyone thinks it is dumb and yet they are forced to run it for another month because it would look worse to abandon it midway.

That's What She Said

Many years ago, long before Michael Scott of The Office brought it to such prominence in the lexicon of young people everywhere, my friend Mike (who I just realized as I’m typing this has the middle name Scott, making him Michael Scott, that’s pretty kick ass) and I decided that “that’s what she said” is just about the funniest joke ever. It juvenile, it doesn’t require a tremendous amount of wit, it is rarely appropriate and it makes me laugh almost every time. Now that the joke is approaching it’s apex in popularity, and nearly everyone I know is a huge fan of The Office, my friends have it down to a veritable art form. A conversation seldom goes more than a few minutes before someone making even the most vague innuendo is punctuated with a “that’s what she said.”

Today I decided that I needed a weekly feature for my blog. Everyone loves a good feature; it’s something to look forward to. Also it allows me to mail it in once a week. It is in this vein that I am creating That’s What She Said Friday. Each week I will present to you, the reader, the very best “that’s what she said” my friends have produced that week. Since I just thought of this and haven’t been mentally cataloging jokes for the week I’m going to dig into the “that’s what she said” archives to tell you about my favorite of all time. Here it is:

I’ll preface this one by saying Leslie doesn’t particularly enjoy “that’s what she said” as much as everyone else I know. I think it kind of annoys her how often I say it, which is what makes this one so great. She had come over to my house to pick me up to go out to eat. She parallel parked a little to close to the curb and I couldn’t open the door far enough to get in the car. The following exchange occurred:

Me: (cracking the car door) Um, I think you’re going to have to pull out.
Leslie: (faintly as I’m closing the door) That’s what she said.


There you have it, that’s the kind of magic you can be expecting on a weekly basis from now on. You’re welcome.

I might start trying again

My blog has really been shitting the bed lately. When I say my blog I literally mean my blog, not myself. I also mean figuratively, not literally. It’s obviously the blogs fault not my own. I’m still leading my usual active, fascinating lifestyle. I’m rife with interesting things to write about but my blog isn’t doing its job. Which is to inspire me to write the stories down. I sit down to write and then get distracted by other things, like being outside, or tv, or not writing a blog post. Here’s a brief list of things that you, the reader, have missed out on in the last two weeks or so because I’ve been to lazy to post:

-I saw a man spit on a little kid on the sidewalk because the kid smiled at him.

-A bird pooped on Leslie while we were out to dinner.

-I spent a weekend in Ocean City. Good stories always come out of that.

-Two good friends got married in North Carolina last weekend. Weddings are the
best, this one was no exception.

Those are just a few examples of fodder I’ve wasted. Hell, today someone handed me a free Monster Energy drink after lunch, old Eric could’ve cranked out 1,000 words on how disgusting that was alone. I’m not really sure what the problem has been. I’ve been really busy at work, but let’s face it, that never stopped me before. I think it’s just a general malaise. Who wants to write a blog post when it’s 103 degrees outside? The act of typing in itself it’s just too exhausting. But I think it’s time to rededicate myself for two reasons. The first being that I no long have a lot of work to do at work, so I’ve got some time to kill. The second one being that my one year blogging anniversary is coming up and I can’t have that go by through such a downswing. Do people even still read this anymore? Who knows.

People in Maryland have such a huge boner for Cal Ripken. What would the states indentity be without him? If you took away the Ravens, Ripken, and crabs I feel like most of Maryland would be walking around like zombies.






P.S. Somewhat real post coming later in the day potentially. I'm back bitches.

Hockey is goof for something I guess

Courtesy of Bill Simmons, the most kick ass brawl I've ever seen:





PS I know it's pretty lazy to post a Youtube video when I haven't posted anything in a week, but it's no secret, I'm very lazy.

Do I know you?

How did Lelia@Viagra_Soft.com become one of my contacts?

Ideally I wouldn't be working.

There's no such thing as an ideal day that involves me going to work, but if there were an ideal work day today would definitely fit that description. It starts with me sleeping in and showing up for work at least an hour later than normal. My office has pretty flexible work hours; generally you can show up whenever you want as long as you put in 9 hours (including an hour lunch break). I like to be home early so I usually work from 7-4. Today we have a mandatory “all hands” meeting at 4. Which means everyone stops work at for to listen to the boss talk for 20 minutes then the day is over. Well if I can show up to work whenever I want (within reason of course) and it’s mandatory that I stop working at 4, why the hell wouldn’t I just get to work at like 8:30 ensuring that I have a free 6 and a half hour work day? Well I would, and I did, so things are off to a good start. Then during my shortened work day the majority of my department is in meetings all day. Meaning there isn’t really anyone to looking over my shoulder. Meaning I’m “working” at a pretty leisurely pace this afternoon. 2 for 2 so far. “All hands” meetings are always immediately followed by an office happy hour. Of course happy hour with your coworkers usually is the lamest species of happy hour but free beer and food is something that should never be turned down. And while the flip cups tournaments in the conference room don’t happen anymore (some sort of liability issue, the boss I are going to have to agree to disagree on this matter I guess) I have some pretty enjoyable colleagues and we also have a balcony ringing our office about 25 stories up with a great view of the harbor so it’s a pretty enjoyable setting, it’s usually not a bad time, so 3 for 3. The next step in this idyllic summer work afternoon would be to walk from happy hour over to the Camden Yards will call to pick my tickets to our free luxury suites one of our friends manage to procure. 4 for 4. 2 less hours of “work”, free booze, and free baseball. Call me crazy but, for a work day, it doesn’t get a whole lot better than that.

What day is it again?

I morning I've been thinking that it's Tuesday. I was talking with Brian about my excitement for our softball league opening on Thursday, I said something about it being two days from now and he reminded me that it's tomorrow because today is in fact Wednesday. Is there a better feeling than that? All day you're thinking that you still have a long week ahead you, come to find out you're almost done. One day closer to the weekend. Also I'm only 14,042 days away from retirement instead of 14,043. That's only 2006 weeks! And since Wednesday already half way over I only 337,003 and a half minutes left in my career. It's ticking away so fast! Where does the time go? 20,220,480 seconds, 20,220,479 seconds, 20,220,478 seconds. Relaxation here I come. Life is good.

Someone jam a pencil in my eye please

A couple of weeks ago I wrote a little blurb about how much I hate writing resumes. I still hate doing that, but I've found something worse, my "personal statement" for a graduate school application. Here is what I'm suppossed to be writing:

Write a brief (1,000-2,000 word) statement addressing the following two questions:

1. What are your reasons for undertaking graduate study at the University of Maryland? Indicate, if appropriate, any specific areas of research interest. You may wish to discuss past work in your intended field and allied fields, your plans for a professional career, or how you developed your interest in or knowledge of your chosen subject.

2. What life experiences you have had that you feel have prepared you to pursue a graduate degree at a large, diverse institution such as the University of Maryland? Among the items you might care to include would be your financial, community and family background, whether you are the first person in your family to pursue a higher education, or any other factors that you feel would contribute to the diversity of our academic community. You may also wish to give the graduate admissions committee some examples of your determination to pursue your goals, your initiative and ability to develop ideas, and /or your capacity for working through problems independently.

Good lord do I hate this crap. What are my reasons for undertaking graduate study? Can't I just say because I like money? Would that fly? I like money, and a graduate degree will make me more money. Do you think the admissions department would respect that answer. In reality though, my company pays for school, shouldn't anyone be admitted when garuanteed money is involved? What have they got to lose? Can I just not go through the motions of the stupid essay and write you a check?

And what's the deal with question 2? Isn't it basically just asking me to tell them that I'm a minority from a poor background who is the only person who has ever gone to college? Are they recruiting for pamphlets with that question?

Anyway, I'm 72 words into my 1,000-2,000 word statement and I'm stuck. I hate this.

For the record: Bananas and Patrick Swayze do not mix well

Despite the title of this blog I haven't been thinking of much lately. I decided the best way to not let the blog die entirely it might be time for my very first guest post. Take itaway Pat:


I recently had knee surgery and for the past two weeks, I have been crutching around with a full length leg brace on. It is amazing how many people ask “wow what did you do to your knee?!” I usually try to come up with a response that makes me seem extremely masculine, adventurous, or my most favorite “the star athlete in my prime”. After weeks of lying, it is time I come clean with the truth.

It all began Halloween of 2005. I was living in New York at the time, and decided to spend a weekend in LA and attend a USC Homecoming football game. Since this coincided with Halloween, I made plans to meet up with my old roommate from college, hot metal, who was at the time living north of LA. Things were working out extremely well. Hot Metal, Dad Metal (one of hot metals buddies) and I met up as the sun was beginning to set. We each pounded a couple 40’s and got our Halloween costumes ready. These costumes came under much debate and deliberation and were not chosen lightly. Originally we thought it would be great to go as a group of penguins, we thought what ladies don’t like a fuzzy penguin. Obviously everyone else had that idea and the store was sold out. Next we thought it would be great to go as a group of giant hands and walk around “giving high fives” and throwing “giant gang signs.” That idea was quickly canned due to the lack of craftsmanship of these giant hands. Our final idea dawned on us like an epiphany. We could be a “bunch of bananas!” Brilliant! We donned our yellow uniforms and made our way to meet up with the rest of the group to begin our night.

We started at the Brass Monkey…a splendid little Karaoke bar in Korea Town, Los Angeles. Hot Metal made his way to the KJ (karaoke Jockey) booth, gave the guy a 20 and a nod, then wrote down our first request of the night “Shes like the Wind, by Patrick Swayzee. You may be most familiar with this song through its class debut in Dirty Dancing. I made a V-line to the booth…high fived the guy, gave him a 20, then began to write down our second hit classic “Escape” by Enrique Englasias. Obviously since we were such kick ass looking dudes, we were called right up to the stage.

The 3 part act began awesomely as always. In fact it was glorious as you can see from this photo




Until this lovely lady in the front row caught my eye. I sang and danced my way to her. “Feel the breath of her face…her body close to me” I was bending backwards…feeling it….she was feeling it…
Then POP!
My knee buckled and I feel to the floor. I wasn’t going to let a little slip and her laughing in my face stop this performance though. I got right back up and finished the song singing to another lady (not as lovely, but lady #1 was definitely jealous)
I started to feel the pain towards the end of the song…hobbled over to the table as the crowd cheered and panties were thrown onto the stage…and sat down nursing my knee. I was ready to go home…after 15 mins of healing my leg…I hear “LETS HEAR IT ONE MORE TIME FOR THE BANANAS…o man…I suck it up and hobble my way up for the conclusion…I am no Brittney Spears canceling my show due to health issues…I am a performer!

I finish my night with “Escape” then leave the stage in a shopping cart one of my buddies found. My buddy nick pushed my all the way home…trying to stop in each bar we passed, only to hear that Korea Town bars don’t like bananas in shopping carts. The other bananas went in the other direction to go bowling.

After I get home I noticed my knee is swollen to twice its size so I take 6 asprin and put ice on it. I lay in the bed…then a call comes in. “Hot Metal is locked in a bowling alley, it closed with him still in the bathroom! What do we do?!?!” They end up finding one of the workers going to his car, have him open the door, and he yells in a Spanish accent “BANANA….WHERE ARE YOU?!!?!?” Hot Metal came sprinting out and they made their way home.

When Hot Metal walks in the door, the D-Bag he can be sprints, and does a pile driver on my knee…doing the ultimate damage. As eyes start to fall asleep…I proclaim “I hate you Hot Metal” and hear the girl he was sleeping next to proclaim “NO TOUCHING!!”

Being on crutches for 3 weeks with a bum knee made that evening memorable!!

I then began to have severe problems with my knee, My knee kept buckling on me and I kept being placed on crutches. Each time was more humiliating than the last. From playing paddle ball with my girlfriends dad on the beach, to walking at work and bending to pick up a sheet of fallen paper, I was a broken man.

I finally had surgery where they removed a piece of chipped bone from my kneecap and gave me a dead guy’s ligament to replace my torn one.

I cant wait to sing Karaoke once more!

Ed. Note: This is likely to be my most popular post ever.

That was Money

I have an imaginary checklist of goals I hope to accomplish before I die. It’s imaginary because A. there is no physical list and B. I don’t actually know what these goals are; usually things get added to the list after the fact because I think they’re awesome. Anyway, I got to add and then mark off an item from the checklist this weekend. I got one ticket to paradise. That ticket allowed me to see one Edward Joseph Mahoney live in concert. That’s right friends, the Eddie Money. It’s hard to imagine anything be more kick ass than seeing Take Me Home Tonight live. Unfortunately Ronnie Spector wasn’t there to complete the original duet, but in her place was a special treat, Eddie’s daughter Jessy. He introduced her as Jessy Money. Really Jessy? You’re trying to have a recording career and you’re using the same fake last name as your dad? That’s pretty lame.

The crowd was an interesting mix to say the least. About 25-30% were people like me and my friends, people in their mid 20’s who enjoy 80’s music, but more than anything enjoy how cheesy it all is. Seriously, I was cracking up the entire time, how could you not? Another 35-40% was hardcore Eddie Money fans. People were buying his albums in the 70’s and 80’s. Just white trash central. There is nothing better than seeing an incredibly trashy woman in her late 40’s who you just know was a crazy Money groupee 25 years ago. I doubt his fans have names, but they really should call themselves Moneyacs. Or Moniacs, whatever it doesn’t matter. I really wanted to buy an Eddie Money t-shirt and immediately cut the sleeves off. They rest of the crowd was there for an entirely different, dreamier reason. The headlining act was Rick Springfield, and there were a lot of older woman there ready to swoon over Dr. Noah Drake. And swoon they did.

One thing was pretty surprising. Eddie Money, despite not putting out a hit record in over 20 years has 6 or 7 recognizable hits that a 26 year old like myself can rock hard to, but one hit wonder Springfield puts on a way better show. And no, he didn’t play Jessy’s Girl on repeat for an hour. It’s pretty easy to see why though. They’re both 57 but Mr. Money has done some hard living in his days. All the drugs and rockstar living has really taken a toll. He’s like a dead man on stage. Although he still had enough life left in him to really nail the requisite 80’s saxophone solo. And I still did a lot of fist pumping. Dr. Drake on the other hand has really been keeping himself together. He was running around like a maniac. I was shocked to find out how old he was. He did half of the concert in the crowd, climbing over seats and playing the guitar while crowd surfing. I was pleasantly surprised with how entertaining it was. I would seriously recommend a Rick Springfield concert; it doesn’t even really matter if you’ve only heard one song of his before.

Throw in Scandal as the opening act and you have a real cheeseball 80’s bonanza. Not quite enough for me to get over missing Huey Lewis and the News last Monday though. That one’s still on the list.

Regi's

This is the scene at Regi's yesterday (a restaurant on Light St. a very short walk from my house):



Leslie and I attempted to have lunch there a few weeks ago and they extremely rude and not at all helpful. Eventually we just left after waiting for a table in a half empty restaurant for about 20 minutes. I was pretty annoyed and probably wouldn't have eaten there as a result of there rudeness, but I also didn't really think they deserved a Honda Accord in front of the place. Leslie on the other hand had this to say: "those jerks. they had it coming." She's the best.

Softball

Yesterday may have been the single most embarrassing moment of my athletic career. I strike out, playing slow pitch softball. How is that even possible? It’s one of those leagues where you start an at-bat with a 1-1 count. I fouled the first pitch down the line, then tried to muscle up on the next pitch and swung and missed. Really how is that possible? I mean, as Brian said, the pitcher clearly reached back for a little extra. It appeared he hit at least 30 or 32 on the radar gun. And I don’t know if you can throw a splitter underhand but it definitely broke a little down and in. What I’m trying to say is that this guy was nasty. Or not, because it’s slow pitch softball for Christ’s sake. I definitely wanted to hang up the spikes after that one. I once made 5 errors in a game in college and I was less and embarrassed than striking yesterday. Are you allowed to bunt in softball? If so I’m sticking with that from now on.

I can crack my own back thank you very much

I have never used any sort of chapstick or lip balm. It seems completely unnecessary. My lips become chapped two, maybe three times each winter, and while it’s unpleasant it isn’t something so horrible that I need apply any type of salve, it goes away on its own in a few days. Also how many people do you know constantly use lip balm? I don’t think that I am some sort of statistical anomaly; I don’t have super lips that are resistant to chafing and dryness. So if my lips are only chapped a few times a year that would lead me to believe that it is the same for most people. So why the chapstick everyday? Clearly its habit forming, which is another reason I would never bother with it. The point is that it is something you never knew you needed until you used it, you would’ve been perfectly fine without it, and now you’ve formed a habit that you can’t stop because it’s almost unconscious on some levels.

I feel the same way about chiropractors. I’ve always been very skeptical of those guys. I’m sure they can provide temporary relief of certain back pain, but I doubted that they truly provided solutions to many back problems. It’s the same thing as chapstick, cracking your back feels great, but it’s not healing anything and you’re only going to have to continue, with greater frequency. My skepticism of the chiropractic industry was somewhat confirmed this week.

Leslie has been having a lot of back pain for the last few weeks and decided to make an appointment with a chiropractor to see if she could resolve the problem. Monday she went and got a few x-rays taken. While waiting in the lobby I happened to notice the receptionist seemed to know all the other patients really well. Someone would walk in the door and a receptionist would say something like, “Oh Mr. Johnson you seem to be making it in a lot earlier than usual did you find a new route?” That was sort of strange to me, I know over time you can get to know the people in a doctors office fairly well, and they know you, but should they know you well enough to notice subtle changes in your routine? That set off the radar a little bit. When her appointment was over she set up another consultation for the next day to review the x-rays. He told her that in the mean time to ice her back, don’t use any heat, that she may need to be fitted for orthotics (or something, I have no idea what that means), and a few other basic treatments. He gave that same advice to three other patients. That set off a few more blips on the radar screen. So you’re telling me that all the patients have the same problem and need to be treated in the same manner? That seems unlikely. Upon her visit the next day she received a packet with the chiropractors proposed treatment plan. I expected it to be sort of stretching regimen, maybe some kind of realignment or massage maybe. Nope, after one half an hour visit it was determined that Leslie needed to schedule 50 more appointments as a course of therapy for her aching back. So that’s why everyone knew each other so well. He said she has a subluxation*, which apparently everyone who goes to a chiropractor has, and that he recommends she come three times a week for five weeks eventually tapering down to once a week, 50 appointments in total. I don’t think victims of some sort of paralyses have that many physical therapy appointments before they can walk again**, who in their right mind would do that for a back ache. I don’t think chiropractors are in the business of hurting people, but they don’t seem to be in the business of healing people either, its seems as though the goal is to make people feel better until it gets the point where they think they can only feel better if they continue to give a chiropractor money.




*Word doesn’t even recognize subluxation as a work, and it’s spelled correctly, should this be another red flag?

**That is pretty insensitive to victims of paralyses, but I’m trying to make a point here.