When I wake up, which I hope will be no earlier than 8:00 AM, I might just venture to Waffle Barn and gorge myself on delicious waffles and crispy bacon. Then I will come home, both rested from 10 hours of sleep and full from a wonderful, leisurely breakfast, and will fall back asleep for a few more hours. It will be grand.

ANYWAYS, here are some things that might make you smirk a little during the wee hours of the night…

My cat is drinking out of my toilet. Yes, the same toilet in which my odd-colored chemo pee is in. I hope he dies.

Apparently, there is some 100-foot long snake just chillin’ in Borneo these days.

I have two old lady stories for ya:

1. One of my nurses (she’s about 60 something) died her hair red a few weeks back and another nurse asked if I liked it. I said, “Sure, it’s spunky.” The second nurse followed up with, “You know what they say about red heads right?” And I, without thinking, replied, “Oh yeah, fire-crotch.” Apparently the nurse meant that red heads are just blonds in disguise. Who knew? Lesson Learned: Think before you speak; you’ll never know what old lady you’ll accuse of having a stinky va jay jay.
2. On another day, a completely unrelated nurse called me the “wise old soul” around the hospital. I was moderately offended because it’s another group of people who think I’m old, but also partially flattered because I was called wise, which actually ended up leading to the word “intelligent.” But I digress. Some crazy old bat next to me, who just so happens to be a religious zealot, responds in this way: “Oh, so you’re wise, huh? That’s the Lord way’s of saying you’re ready to go to the other side.” Lesson Learned: Apparently, God wants me to die.

I’m going to bed though. Good luck with your athon. I donated $50 because, like terrorism, I won’t let cancer win. BOOM.

Jason. Out.

This about sums up my feelings about this NFL season.

1. I have a lot of dreams about Chicago. I’d say more so than any other metropolitan city.
2. We had to stay at some house in the great plains area during the winter for like a week. It was snowing, but I don’t know if this actually happens in like Nebraska or wherever the fuck we were.
3. While in the great plains, we had nothing to eat but veggie burgers. ICK.

The weirdest thing though is I felt compelled this morning to actually see how long it would take to drive to Chicago. You know, out of curiosity.

29 hours 28 minutes. From my door to the door of Sears Tower.

That actually does not seem at all unreasonable. If three people went on a road trip like that, you could easily get away with driving 5 hours, taking 10 hours off, driving 5 hours and taking 10 hours off. Then, boom, you’re there. And according to Mapquest, this would cost only $216.09 in fuel to make the drive.

I want to do this. Bad. Not necessarily to Chicago, but take some sort of absurd road trip. 30 hours rules out any spontaneous road trip, but you could plan something like this. I’d be totally down to do something retarded like this though.

Who’s in?

Also, who wants to try The Counter Burger with me one of these days? It’s like Chipotle but without Mexicans.

Anybody who supports this band's music probably had a sex change operation. And they probably eat babies.

AOL.com – Read the full story

This is everything that is wrong with the world.

If I never worked again, I’d be 100% okay with that. I have had the most leisurely past few days of just hanging out with friends and buying shit and eating, I see no better way to live. And it’s decreased the amount of internet porn I watch.

My prostate is confused though. Some reports say that masturbation prevents prostate cancer, while others say the exact opposite. I’m sticking with the former. (Ha! Sticky!)

I got a Blackberry today AND  a new pair of jeans. I look so important it’s not even funny. I mean, it’ll probably get me laid at all the clubs (that I don’t go to), so whatever. Honestly though, do phones have any effect on women’s libidos? I’ve had a Sidekick and now a Blackberry but it’s not helping the cause.

There’s been a lot of rave reviews going on about fruity pebbles ice cream/frozen yogurt lately. Actually, I’ve only heard two people talk about it and only seen one person order it and it still seems very weird to me. I’m not a cereal kind of guy to begin with, but mixing it with ice cream just seems wrong.

I played disc golf yesterday. I suck.

I am still trying to write an article that involves Rue McClanahan and it’s driving me fucking crazy. It has actually interefed with my ability to write about Janice Dickinson, Anne Hathaway and Mario Lopez. This is NOT a good thing. I just want it to be over with, get my $50 and have strangers make fun of me. Is that too much to ask?

I’m revising the Jason Patton Charity Auction tomorrow and making it a) more accesible to everyone and b) way cooler. Stay tuned for that…

"I will use you as a toilet."

Chemo brain is a real thing. I tried eating barbecue chicken the other day with a steak knife and a fucking spoon. It causes some serious short term memory loss and apparently, excessive stupidity.

Anyways, I feel bad I skipped yesterday because my views jumped from like 23 to 91. Either someone spent way too much god damn time on here or people are actually reading.

I’m going to post a picture right now, figure some shit out, write some shit and come back. You’ll have more later, bitches.

• I have to write an article for a website that involves Rue McClanahan and I am so fucking baffled about what to say about her. I never saw Maude and I never saw The Golden Girls. I don’t know a thing about her.
• My phone just took a giant dump. Like, elephant sized. It’s just turning off and being – if I may quote a good friend – cunty. I might go get a new phone today. I think I’m do for an upgrade after all, and I really want to get a Blackberry so I look important.
• I’m expecting a few rather important emails and haven’t gotten a single one. Shit.
• The Super Bowl is giving me an aneurysm for multiple reasons: a) I don’t know who to bet on, which is bad for both my illegal bookie in Antigua, and me; b) I have to make an educated pick on air by Friday and I don’t know who to pick; and c) I don’t have any plans yet. Which, really, isn’t a big deal, but I don’t want to watch the Super Bowl at home with my pants off. I do that the whole season.

Also, I know I promised news about an awesome autograph, but that’ll just have to wait.