Inhuman Swill : Page 195
Why is my blog called Inhuman Swill? Because you can unscramble the pieces to make William Shunn.

New York's open wounds

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I looked up from my Visor to realize that the guy who had just say down across from me had a hideous open wound on his check, and blood running down his face. Then I realized it was Halloween and the wound was just makeup. Whew!

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R.I.P. Jam Master Jay

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Yum

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I seem to be getting the eggs down just fine. They're cold, but what the hell.

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The joy of acid reflux

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Just had the mother of all acid-reflux attacks. It's probably the worst one I've had since the episode at Republic two years ago that led to my diagnosis.

Got to work at 6:50 this morning for some scheduled maintenance on the Web site, and my boss and I ordered breakfast from a local diner. I had eaten just two strips of bacon when it started. (I know, I know.) The sharpness in my throat was incredible, and the sensation of my throat closing off was doing its damnedest to convince me that I was in danger of losing my airway. I had to remember to take deep breaths, because as much as it feels like I can't breathe, I really can. Still, I was light-headed by the time it was all over, after all the burping and coughing up big globs of acid and saliva and the incredibly painful hiccuping, bewteen which I was walking around the office with my arms over my head.

I tried to swallow some Pepto-Bismol my boss brought me, but I don't think it even made it all the way to my stomach. The next glob of spit was all pink. He helpfully went to Duane Reade for some Pepcid AC, of which I took three once I felt I could successfully swallow. Nice Catch-22 there—the medicine has to actually get to the stomach to be helpful.

Anyway, I'm weak and shaky now, and my throat is raw, but the attack seems to be over. I'm glad to know that at least I don't panic anymore when this happens. It's terribly unpleasant, but I'm pretty level-headed through it all.

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Need a gift this Christmas for the person who has everything? A mere $7500 will get you your own custom-made superhero action figure:

Neiman Marcus His & Hers Action Figure Package

Travel and accomodations for the 3D digital body scan in California not included.

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Panda love

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Now I have three friends who have taken to cavorting with giant pandas, instead of just one. What is the world coming to? And when will it be my turn?

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A change of symphonies

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I find it very suggestive that when I just dropped my new CD purchase—A Change of Seasons by Dream Theater—into the drive, MusicMatch Jukebox queried its online database and offered me two choices for what the contents might be: either the aforementioned Dream Theater disc, or the Brahms Second Symphony performed by the Wiener Philharmonic with Leonard Bernstein conducting.

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I read a statistic recently that said an estimated one out of every three emails received today is spam.

Overnight I received 112 pieces of email that my spam filter caught. I received six other emails that were spam which the filter didn't catch. I received no personal email. Would that the estimated ratio held for me. As it is, last night's ratio of spam to non was infinite.

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Music week

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Sunday evening we saw David Bowie at the Beacon. Tonight it's Rush at the Garden! What a happy kid I am.

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Bowling for Columbine

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Laura and I went to see Bowling for Columbine last night. It was emotional and harrowing on a level that Michael Moore films haven't reached before. Highly recommended.

But during the movie, the couple seated next to my left (with an empty seat between us) just would not shut up, even after I did what I hate and shushed them like a schoolmarm. What's more, they were sort of twisted around in their seats so they could lie in each other's arms, and they had to shift around every few minutes, kicking the seats in the process with vibrations that could be felt all down the row. It distressed me no end that we were watching a movie about gun violence and all I wanted to do was shoot the people beside me.

The irksome couple didn't stay through the credits, like Laura and I did. As we were leaving our row, someone coming up the aisle pointed to the floor at my feet and asked, "Did you drop your keys?"

Well, I hadn't and Laura hadn't, but I found the idea that Buffy and Skip might get home and find themselves locked out mighty satisfying.

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The Accidental Terrorist 30th Anniversary Sale

Signed editions
that even a
missionary
could afford.

Order yours now!

William Shunn

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