Thursday, May 14, 2015

Just One Hundred Days Ta Go

When I first put that timer up in me sidebar, countin' down the days 'til Missus Ratters (aka Shianti, aka the Tiz, aka Julie) 's cancer were officiallies cured, it were kinda intimidatifyin'. Over 1500 days ta go back then. But now we's down ta only a hundred - close enoughs what we don't really think about it no more, 'cept fer when we look at the timer. So what all done happened since she finished the cuttin' an' the poisonin' an' the burninatin'? I's so glad you asked.

First thing what we did was, we got married. 'Cause that were what we wanted fer ta do.

Next thing was, she went back ta work. Night shift at the ICU, same as befores. But were tough, 'cause fer one her body'd done had the crap knocked outta it in ways ya never fully revovers from, an' fer two the new hospital never really clicked fer her the way the old one did, back where she lived before I done swooped in an' run off with her. But she's a tough bugger, an' she kept at it.

Meanwhiles, she went back ta school. She'd always done been meanin' to, but never quite did get arounds ta makin' it happen. After cancer though, woman had a fire in her belly. Year an' a half in, she had her bachelors. Two years after that, nurse practitioner masters degree. 4.0 GPA. Month after that, totally crushed the board certification exam. Now she got herself a real nice job at a medical clinic, diagnosin' sick buggers an' writin' perscrips, and makin' the big bucks. An' she don't gotta wipe no more craps off of no more arses no more.

The Tiz makes up her mind fer ta get shit done, you best get the fuhg outta her way.

Healthwise, she's mostly back ta how she were before it all began. But ya never recovers fully. Losin' a buncha lymph nodes on one side means she gets some painful swellin' in that arm sometimes, an' she gotta be carefuls on hot days 'cause she don't sweat there no more. An' the anxiety attacks is a lot fewers and less crushin' than they was back when we was lookin' down the barrel at 50-50 odds. But is all way better, an' we's very happy fer that.

Best of all, she's still me best friend, an' I's still hers.


-----

Sadly, not everyone is as lucky as us. A few months ago, a friend of ours was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Despite his strength and determination, the love and support of friends and family, and the best medical care, he passed away last week. He and his wife had been in our guild back when we were raiding Naxxramas, and we were fortunate to get to see them socially several times in real life, including at our wedding. Julie and I were very saddened by his loss, and our hearts go out to his wife and their children.

Friday, May 8, 2015

Well, Ain't THAT Da Poop


Failin' a 99-percenter fer a BRF cache. Maurice is done gonna have ta wait hisself another two weeks fer another shot at a 670 now.

Meself, I suspects it were prolly the Pleasure Bot's fault.

Monday, May 4, 2015

BONESTORM!!!!!!

Back when pet battles was first announced, I was all excited fer ta try out the undeaders' BONESTORM move. Were definitely the coolest soundin' attack. All caps an' everythin'. But Blizz done fuhgged it up an' put the wrong numbers inta the code, makin' it a big pile of uselessosity. So I never done did use it.

Eventuallies - like a year? two? later - they finallies got aroun' ta fixin' the numbers. An' today is wicked fun fer ta turn the Luggage loose when the daily offers up a triad of humanoids.


Friday, May 1, 2015

FFS Nat Pagle

Yes, I's got me a cooler. Yes, is fulla beer. Yes, I's catchin' me some fish.


Now, git yer soggy arse an' yer soggy horse off the bottom of the lake an' go back ta the garrison so's ya can sober up.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Sometimes Only One Name Will Do ....

..., when ya gets yerself a new pet.


Awards yerself ten geek points if'n ya gets why.

Friday, April 24, 2015

Too Sexy Fer His Belt Buckle

Hello, beauteous ladies. (And you as well, gentlemen who are not as sexy as me.) I am Maurice, the Death Knight of Love.


Do you like my belt buckle? Are you not impressed with it's many long, curvy horns? Can you not help but admire its long, dangling danglers? Does it not feel you with awe for what magnificence must be concealed behind?


Remember, beauteous ladies, many others may wear the Ironcrusher's Collar, but they are merely hollow men, desperately seeking to hide their inadequacies. I, however, the Death Knight of Love, use it to gird my loins confidently and boldly, for it is a mere appetizer for the delicious meal yet to come.