..... on therapists, ballin', klutziness, and rain-x ..... PART 2

so we go in the room and we talk and it is not super comforting to know that your life is semi in this person's hands and they are asking you questions about your whole history of stuff ..... questions that they are basing on just skimming over some file for 20 minutes before you got there. but let's keep this funny.

i cycle through a list of witty answers when asked if i have experienced any "swelling in my private parts" ..... i just smile and say "uh ... no." then she says she is going to check me out and i take my shirt off and she seems to kind of balk at that like it is unnecessary but she gets her lymph node check on and then she says something about my pants and i am going to take my drawers off but she is def not having that and stops me. i think she is going to take them off for me .... which is weird, cause the docs always have YOU do that shit, i guess so no one can act like they removed your shit forcibly or whatever ..... but she has me leave them on. and she checks my groinal nodes (?) by wriggling her fingers under the elastic leg holes of my shorty shorts and then assures that me that i am all well. we talk about the blood tests i need to get and then she leaves the room to get the paperwork for them and tells me to sit tight.

then i start thinking "okay. it takes a lot of time, effort, and money to do all this. SOMEBODY had better grab hold of that thing in a gloved and/or clean, gloveless hand, roll the mother fucker around, and tell me there is NOTHING WRONG WITH IT." know what i mean? like, what i come here for? to get checked for a cold? hold it in your hand and TELL ME that it is cool, cause i only got one left and i am about to get a custom-fitted kevlar case for that shit because if that ones goes bad or gets fucked up consider it A WRAP. dig a hole and let me climb in it (shit, toss Old Yeller in there with me) and pull the trigger.

but lo, an angel in the form of one of the OGs comes in for THAT part, the ironically named Dr. Wang (i use his real name cause it's funny). he does his thing while i stare at the ceiling and smile, pleased with his initiative. so .... blood tests pending, looks like all is quiet on the southern front.

last night when i started this and i was all druggy and excited about it i wanted to write about my klutziness, but i am kind of over that part .... basically, i am a fuckin butter-fingers-having dude and maybe it's cause i'm high all the time or something, but when i cook/eat at home it gets ugly. something always happens. it is always something traumatic and embarassing, like droppin my pork chop on the carpet right as i am about to start eating and being so hungry i don't even want to wipe the hairs and fuzz off it. last night i was cutting my steak and it somehow BOUNCED UP (?) and landed in a pile of peas, splattering peas and meat grease all over the coffee table and floor. just when i got started and all settled in with my beer and my napkin and my tv on the right channel. i was even being extra careful. it makes me so sad.

and yo, what the fuck is poppin off, like a tropical storm and what not? hurricane? i don't really watch the news. sorry. but my windshield wipers are broken. and i will not be fixing them before i go to France. so let the Rain-X experiment begin ..... more on that as it develops. i will say that i followed the directions to a T, that i had already applied some other weak ass shit a few days before, and that i have never used a product like this before then. let's see how it goes down. okay, peace.