I imagine that my brain got stuck inside of my body like a splinter 26 years ago and ever since the tissue and skin has been growing over it, trapping it, and now I’m making do.
Today I thought we could delight in a nice annual physical together and take our pee in (or around and all over) the cup and place it in the teeny window and get on with our lives.
There are many instructions and required reading involved when you’re going to pee in a cup. And a pen dangling from a chain that you’re supposed to use to write your name on the cup and so on. It’s a shame that they specify, “NO NICKNAMES” because I was going to write April “Showers” Swartz on my sample. A sample! A sample of what I have to offer you… in urine.
I struggle with a bit of performance anxiety when I have to take a piss at a specific time in an appointed place. They should have a 3-ring binder full of plastic sheet protected photos displaying dripping faucets, streams, and waterfalls next to the toilet. Sort of like what they offer men for their spank banks.
Could we not meet in the middle with some nudie mermaids?
Sometimes when I’m in there I think I’ll just never pee. I’ll finally stumble out into the hallway at two in the morning dehydrated, lips cracked, throat closing, vision distorted, and knees creaking loudly like the Tin Man’s to find all the lights off. Then I’ll collapse in the arms of a lonely night cleaner who gives me the disapproving mother face as I drift to sleep in his pine sol-y embrace while loosening my grip on one sad, empty cup.
Don’t worry, we eventually gave it up.
Later on my doctor gave me a dummy boob to play with while he left the room. I was instructed to “find the lumps”. A game best played by one’s self, like Solitaire.
Well, I cheated because there were 3 dirty and weathered spots on this hobo boob. I mashed on them and felt snow caps.
It felt pretty awesome to tell my doctor to “wash that boob” before I left the office.
April ‘showers’——-hahahahaha, I’m embarrassed that I laughed because it’s a dumb joke. I have an intimate relationship with pee because I’m always talking about it and pregnant ladies are always doing it, peeing. Something about a 40 pound uterus resting on the poor squished bladder…Men should know the joys.
Thank you, though, for taking care of your health.
Love, Glinda, the good witch
I find Joey Gladstone (Full House) to be the funniest. That’s why I’d make a better dad than a mom one day.
America, boobs, food, health
I mean what else do I represent?
Peach pit, how are ya? Not that I’m a worrywart or anything. How goes the healing process??
love and kisses,
Granpa Klampitt
Granpa!!!
I’m doing so well and the face is looking less and less like a quilt every day.
I’ll write something again soon. I miss you and I’m suffering from bloggers block. Bloogers blog. Boogers block.