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Money4Nothing

That ain’t Twerking . . .That’s the way you DO it!

And my chicks for free!

The Daily Post asks . . . If you’re like most of us, you need to earn money by working for a living. Describe your ultimate job. If you’re in your dream job, tell us all about it — what is it that you love? What fulfills you?

For those of you who follow my blog, you know that I am, by profession, an ophthalmologist.  An eye doctor/surgeon.  And while I do like my job–I really enjoy giving cataract surgery patients the gift of better sight–there are certain things about my job I do not like.

I really do not like our government and its bureaucratic intrusion into my practice.  I wish they would just leave me alone to do what I was trained to do.  Dealing with insurance companies makes me want to stick needles in MY eye!  Obamacare is just worse and more of it!

I loathe computer medical records.  Electronic Health Records.  EHR.  Errrrr!  Meaningful use = meaningless abuse.

I really don’t like having to get up at a set time every morning and living my life to a schedule.  Didn’t bother me years ago, but as I have aged, I really look forward to sleeping in on weekends!  I could get used to doing that every day.

I don’t like call.  As I have turned 39 for more than a few years, the ER calls in the middle of the night really bother me.  I no longer can fall back to sleep right away which affects my next day’s performance.  I already work a very busy schedule and additional add-ons are just additional stress right now that I could do without.  It is what it is, though.

So, in a nutshell, right there is my dream job . . . making the same amount of money I currently make (more would actually be better since I still live paycheck to paycheck with my doctor’s salary) but not having a set schedule, no call, and still do what I enjoy doing.

I enjoy running.  Can’t see anyone paying me what I make now to simply run.  And I am certainly not an elite/Olympic runner.  If I have to compete to get paid, I will starve.

I enjoy golfing.  And while I could make more than I currently make being a great professional golfer, I am not a great golfer.  I’m not really a good golfer.  I’m not worthy of playing with Tiger Woods.  I’m not really worthy of playing with Tiger’s woods, or even carrying his clubs.  I have probably lost a few balls in Tiger’s woods and if not, I certainly could manage that.

I also enjoy bowling, but I don’t think my current 192 average is good enough to keep my salary level where I am.  Nothing more pitiful than a starving bowler.

I’ve always dreamed of being the head coach at Penn State, and that would certainly pay better than my current gig.  But as passionate as I am as a fan, I do lack the X’s and O’s to actually be a football coach.  And looking at the hectic schedule that our new coach is living–travelling on the recruiting trail–I don’t think I would enjoy that schedule.

I am thinking Penn State University president.  The job may still be open, but I think they will be announcing a new president shortly.  I have not the experience nor qualifications, but there would be no bigger promoter of the University that I know of.  I can cut a ribbon without cutting myself.  I think.  I could ask people to donate money.  I’m not sure how I could handle dealing with our State Legislators, since my opinion of monumental idiots lawmakers in general is not very high.  The schedule probably isn’t as flexible as I’d like, so I think this is a no-go as well.

I could be a professional blogger if somebody wants to pay me what I’m currently making.  Yeah, I don’t see that happening.

Professional lottery winner?  I’m so there.  I just need to win the freaking Power Ball!

I’ve always thought stand-up comedy would be great.  I’m currently the entertainment for our annual office Christmas party, but that’s a once a year gig.  Not sure I could pull it off on a regular basis.  Maybe if I had a team of joke writers.  But the whole stand-up thing is not my style.  One of the things that drew me to eye surgery in medical school is that you can do it sitting down.  I guess I could be a late-night show host–a little actual standing followed by sitting behind a desk drinking coffee.  I could drive around like Jerry Seinfeld and drink coffee with other comedians.  I could drink coffee with just about anybody, especially if I’m getting paid well to do it.

I do dream of being a “professional” writer some day.  I have several novels in very stages of completion.  I blame my day job for the lack of time needed to actually finish and publish these projects, but we all know that is just an excuse.  And I have heard that publishers can be downright nasty with deadlines which would annoy me.  Sometimes the muse inspires me; sometimes the muse perspires me.  You just never know when the words will come.

It looks like for now, I’ll have to stick with taking out cataracts.

That’s not working.  That’s the way I do it.

Lemme tell, eye docs ain’t dumb.

Maybe get a blister on my little finger.

Maybe get a blister on my thumb.

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The Daily Post asks bloggers . . . What have you been putting off doing?  Why?

I was actually going to put together a list of things I have been putting off doing, but I think I will wait for another day.

There used to be a commercial for Heinz ketchup . . . “Anticipation, it’s making me wait.”

My theme song should be: Procrastination, it’s making me wait.

I don’t really have a Bucket List, but there are some things I would like to eventually do before I die.

I really want to win the lottery.  I want to prove that having too much money won’t corrupt me.  I suppose I should buy a lottery ticket every day, though, to improve my chances of winning.  Maybe I’ll buy one tomorrow.

I want to write a Broadway Musical.  This is somewhat problematic given that I have little musical talent.  I played piano centuries ago when I was young and clarinet and saxophone in high school.  But I never played any instrument well.  I can’t sing.  I can’t even carry a tune in a suitcase.  The last time I sang in front of other people, my son almost had a stroke.  But I digress.

I do consider myself adept at lyrics–not singing them, but writing them.  For years I have changed the lyrics of other songs, ala Weird Al Yankovic, for humorous purposes.  I have composed a couple of tunes . . . but to give you an idea how long ago that was, they were written on a Mac+ computer.

Sing for me, my Angel of Music!

Sing for me, my Angel of Music!

Perhaps someday, I’ll get around to finishing that Broadway show.

But one item that I have procrastinated on, which I hope is the one I will most likely succeed in finally accomplishing, is writing AND publishing a novel.

I actually have three in various stages of editing (and ideas for half a dozen others). . . one was originated on that Mac + computer back in 1991.

I’m not really sure why I can’t complete one of these projects.  To some degree, I guess I lose interest.  It takes a long time to put together a book!

My most recent effort is a novel about the end of times.  I know.  It’s been done to death.  It’s as old as the end of time.  Pardon the puns.  But so far as I can tell from my Google research and reading, the angle I am taking is pretty unique.  But at one point, I was starting to have weird dreams, and bad things seemed to be happening in my life, and as soon as I stopped writing it, the dreams and bad luck stopped as well.

Coincidence?

Just the other night, I decided to make another push to return to writing this novel.  I was doing some research and watching a YouTube video about the end of times.  When I finished, I was going to go to bed.  I stopped at the kitchen sink to get a drink of water and I happened to look at our thermometer.  It’s one of those electronic monitors that shows outside and inside temperatures.  The outside temperature was 66 degrees.  It just got my attention for some reason and I looked at it more closely.

You guessed it.  It was 66.6 degrees.

666temp

Maybe my novel can wait after all.

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The Daily Post asks, “Why did you start your blog? Is that still why you blog, or has your site gone in a different direction than you’d planned?

They’re kind of nosy that way.

But that got me to thinking . . . and that is always a dangerous thing.

You see, when you think about things, bad stuff happens.  Most wars occur because some politician or military general thought about things.  Einstein thought about things and eventually that led to the nuclear bomb.  If I think about a putt too long, I miss it.  (I miss it if I don’t think about it and just whack away at it, but then missing it doesn’t bother me so much.)  But I digress.

I first started blogging about Penn State football in the late 1990’s.  I had a free site on a place called Xoom.  It was basically free, which was the most significant criterion for my blog at the time.  You are now reading my ramblings on Word Press, so that criterion is still pretty significant.  Some things never change.

At one point, Xoom died as a web hosting site and I went to GeoCities.  It went belly up as well, except in Japan.  I don’t speak Japanese.  I am not a legend in Japan.  I’m not very funny in Japanese.  Or so I have been told.  Actually, I didn’t know GeoCities still existed anywhere, let alone Japan, until I Googled it.  I think they are hiding from me!

The basic formula to date has been to find a free web hosting service and then help it go bankrupt.  (If you have stock in Word Press, you might want to bail now.)

Along the way, I also diversified from a simple football blog to what you are reading now.

Ta Da!  (Jazz hands!)

(Actually, it was not an evolution from one to the other as it was a spin-off.  This is Frasier to my old Cheers blog.  Or something like that.  I still blog about Penn State, but the humor is secondary.)  Both blogs coexist, but they don’t communicate well together.  Kind of like my multiple personalities.  But we digress.

When I first started writing about Penn State football, I pictured myself as the Dave Barry of the football world.  Except for the part that I didn’t have a syndicated column with a gazillion readers.  And I didn’t make up names for rock bands.  But I thought I was funny.  Alas, looks aren’t everything.

I found that football was too narrow a subject and there were times–like when Penn State lost 6-4 to Iowa–when there was no way to make that humorous, unless you lived in freaking Iowa and had a corn fetish.

Humor is cathartic.  It’s what keeps me sane in an insane world.  I’m no longer Dave Barry trying to make a Sugar Bowl loss to Alabama into a joke, but rather Hawkeye Pierce surviving a daily war with humor and surgical skills as my only weapons.

Eyelife

Damn it, Jim, I’m just an eye doctor.

Living the Eye Life.

Welcome to the war.

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The Daily Prompt has challenged Word Press bloggers to analyze their top 3-5 posts and find a connection between them.

Since The Eye Life was hatched, here are the top 5 posts:

The Little Piggie That Should Have Stayed Home   2,835
My Lunch Bucket List   1,321
Youse Guys Ever Eat at Five Guys?   1,002
Signature Moment   841
Sponge Boobs   588

For those that don’t feel like clicking through the links, The Little Piggie That Stayed Home is a light-hearted post about my experience having several toe nails surgically removed.  I am a runner, and this activity is apparently hard on toenails.  But I think the number of hits has nothing to do with HUMOR or RUNNING, but rather visitors are brought there by Google Images–there is a picture of cute little toes decorated to look like piggies.  This picture has also been linked to Pinterest.  There are also before and after photos of my feet but I’m pretty sure that is NOT what has driven traffic to that page.

People love this pic!   The Blog--not so much!

People love this pic!
The Blog–not so much!

My Lunch Bucket List is a post based on a Facebook posting of 100 Things One Should Eat Before You Die, which may include some things which might cause me to die if I actually tried to eat them.  The article is humorous and the title is an amusing play on Bucket List (things to do before you die) and Lunch Bucket (which implies foods.)  Get it?  Whatever.

Youse Guys Ever Eat At Five Guys is an amusing tale of my trip to Five Guys where I’m pretty sure there were a couple of women working.  This confused me, but I am easily confused.  Search terms that bring one here are led by FIVE GUYS.  Go figure.

Signature Moment is my tribute to our founding fathers and always gets a blip of hits on July Fourth.  GO FIGURE!

Seriously, if the Congrefs of today was meeting to pass this resolution, we all know what that would mean.  We’d still be British citizens.  God Save the Queen!

And lastly Sponge Boobs, which has nothing to do with boobs as a synonym for female anatomy, but probably benefits from searches for said anatomical parts, is about a study that showed that four year olds who watch just nine minutes of Sponge Bob (that’s two episodes minus the commercials) experienced learning difficulties.  I know!  I watched an entire Sponge Bob Marathon one day–but I did it at a Holiday Inn Express!

It should be quite clear what the connection is here between these posts.

They were all posted on this blog.

I’m sorry.  I’ve got nothing else.

It’s a humor blog, so I guess they have that in common.

Two are about food.  The rest, not so much.

Oh, and they all made this post about stats!  So they’ve got that going for them too.

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Seriously Serving Out

Do you need served out?  Seriously served out?  Well, then you have come to the right blog.

I received this spam comment today . . .

You not likely to think this but I’ve misplaced all day looking for many content pieces relating to this. I would like I understood of this web site previously, it absolutely was an excellent read through and seriously served me out. Have a fantastic one.

Too bad I would like understood of this comment previously, but I’ve misplaced all day looking for many spam pieces relating to this.

Here’s to a fantastic one!

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FRESHLY PRESSED!

I only started this WordPress Blog in April.  Maybe I’m expecting too much from the Eye Life.  But patience is a virtue that has eluded me all my life.

You may be wondering what I am talking about, or typing about as the case may be.  I can understand that.  I barely know what I’m talking about myself.  But let me enlighten you.

WordPress has this “thing” called Freshly Pressed which is featured on their website.  It is a kind of reward for “good” blogs which drives more traffic to your site.  After all, if someone writes a blog on the Internet, and no one reads it, does it make a noise?

Two months–well, nearly two months–and 16 posts later, I still have not been Freshly Pressed.  I am wrinkled.  Ugly.  Not even freshly squeezed.  I don’t even know why you are bothering to read this, since my blog is obviously worthless as blogs go.  Print this out and use it to line your bird cage.  Buy a bird if you have to.  I mirror mediocrity.  Maybe I should aspire to mediocrity.  Hope for it.  Embrace it!

So I began to wonder why my incredibly entertaining blog was not getting the limelight it deserves.  After all, I have a catchy title and a beautiful picture.  I am more or less funny looking.  Alas, blogs are not judged by their titles alone.

My wonderment sent me looking for answers.   Google is my friend.  I quickly found an article about Five Ways To Get Featured on Freshly Pressed.  I thought I was on to something here, but I couldn’t be sure.

The author looks young enough to be my daughter and she uses phrases like “video rocks.”  I am in serious trouble here.

I quickly scanned the article, but shamelessly submitting my article was not an option.  Neither was paying her off.  I’m not savvy enough to hack into their system and feature myself.  I am in really serious trouble here.

So I actually tried to read the article.

Write unique content that’s free of bad stuff.

I do that!  I have written about how I named this site, about my two new dogs, how I voted, my MahJong angst, about the recent Rapture that did not occur and Satan visiting my site.    How many blogs can say that!  (How many would want to?)  Whose side are you on?

Include images or other visuals.

They want “original” images or ones that are properly credited.  OK.  Hmmm.  I included my own pictures of my dogs, although my wife technically took the photos.  I have included videos and I believe that credit was paid where credit was due.  The picture of the baby suckling on the cow was my idea and photoshop.  Still not good enough.

Add tags.

I added tags.  I’m three for three, or maybe two and half for three since I probably didn’t credit every single image, but this is not a term paper for a grade or an application for a Nobel Prize here. 

Aim for typo-free content.

Hunt and peck.  Spunt and heck.  I can spell check.  My grammar ain’t too good though.  She’s got rheumatism.

Cap off your post with a compelling headline.

Let’s look at some of mine:  Picking your Noes.  Get it.  Not nose, but noes.  Since I was voting “no.”  Funny, right?  Creative?  Apparently not. 

MahJong MoJo is No Mo.  Unique?  yes.  My own screen shots–very original.  Neat name.  Didn’t tickle any fancies.

Who Let the Dogs In?  Pretty funny story about our two new dogs.  Kind of a play on Who Let the Dogs Out–get it?  Apparently not.

Udderly Ridiculous, a post about genetically modifying cows to produce human breast milk.  Udderly?  Utterly?  Get it?  They didn’t.

I’m flummoxed.  Stymied.  Constipated.

What have those other blogs got that I ain’t got?

Courage.  Free advertising, apparently.

So I checked out a few of these blogs featured today. . .

Happy Towel Day.  Seriously?  “Awesomely Nerdy News and Reviews?”  Sure there’s a Youtube Video–and I guess that rocks.  I guess it’s unique since I’ve never heard of it.  As a Steeler fan, I have a Terrible Towel.  Does that count?  But the final picture is clearly copied . . . you can Google it here.

Homemade Peking Duck with Mandarin Pancakes.  I can’t cook, but I love duck.  If you ever get a chance to visit the Village Inn in Belgrade Lakes, Maine, stop in and have the duck.  Best.  Ever.  But this site has pics of the duck in preparation.   Duck hanging from a string.  Was it suicide or fowl play?  I don’t know.

Egg Farming?  Built a chickencoop.  Now they have chicken poop.  Yea!  [Doing jazz hands.]  Original pictures (and a really kickin’ chicken coop!), but hardly unique.  I tried to farm chickens once.  Nothing grew.  I either planted the eggs too deep or too close together.  I gave up after that.

Six things you won’t be ordering from SkyMall.  I have never ordered from SkyMall so my list is way longer than that!  The pictures look like they were taken from the magazine and it certainly seems to be advertorial, whatever that means.

I could go on but what’s the use.  I may as well be typing at the wall.  And no one is reading anyway.

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666

All this talk of the apocalypse, and then I check out my blog stats to discover that I have had 666 hits!  Oh no!

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