The Blood Test

Wow, four tubes for blood. And there's the needle, time to turn my head and look away...

...Think Shaquille O'Neal entering Carl...wait, big black bitch splitter sounds too painful, Carl entering Shaq - yeah, no pain there, like driving a Mini into a black hole...

...Deep breaths now, breathe...

(Prick)

This isn't so bad...

"You're blood is coming out really slowly."

Is that really a bad thing? I'm happy that my blood has grown fond of my body. I'd die if my blood was in a rush to part ways with my body. Literally...

Whew...it's over. Nothing could be worse than this except Christmas shopping on the busiest shopping day of the year, awww son of a bitch...

"Before you leave, we need to take a urine sample from you."

What?!

Breathe...

Relax...

OMG, I can't pee! I'm not claustrophobic, but the walls of this washroom certainly seem like they are caving in on me. Of all the things, I'm going to fail this freaking urine test!

Come on, bladder... (In Rob Schneider Waterboy voice:) You can do it!

Oh yeah, just let it all out. OK, you can stop now. Now you really need to stop. I said stop dammit!

What a relief. Peeing never felt so good!

A Visit to the Doctor's

Hickory dickory fu-ock, I went to see the doc. The monthlong buildup for what turned out to be a 30 minute getting to know you sesssion. And I had no idea he was a celebrity! It cost me $20 for the one-on-one meet-and-greet. Overall, very anticlimactic...

...Not to change the subject, but is it me or was Blade III really an 1.5+ hour-long IPOD infomercial?

Back to the doctor's...I had to smile a little answering a question on the medical history form that asked about being sexually active. When I think of the phrase "sexually active," I think of volcanic activity. I think it's because, like a volcano, my eruptions are few and far between (yes, I know what you're thinking: "Poor Fez". So I wonder how my doctor would react if I responded to the question with, "No, right now I'm sexually dormant. But if the circumstances are right I could explode at anytime!"

I handed in the form and a few minutes later a nurse opens a door halfway and calls my name. I think a pre-requesite for this person's line of work has to be previous work experience as a dominatrix. She just called out my name and I knew to come to her. Not another word. And the fact that she opened the door halfway leads me to believe that she probably had a whip in the one hand I couldn't see just in case I didn't understand her unspoken command to follow her at the call of my name. She took me to a special room, put her stick in my mouth and told me to bite. Kinky, kinky...

The nurse had her way with me and then led me to another special room - the "Examination Room" where the doctor was to see me. I waited there patiently. And finally the doctor came! Then he shook my hand. Hee hee...

After a month of waiting, you'd figure I'd be prepared to tell him everything that was wrong with me. But my mind was elsewhere. Besides being stuck in the gutter, I was thinking that right at that moment of how I saw the doctor and the doctor said, "Ooh-ee-ooh-ah-ah, ting-tang-walla-walla-bing-bang, Ooh-ee-ooh-ah-ah," and then he shrunk my head. But he didn't. Instead, he told me to get some tests done, and that we'd go over the results in a few weeks.

And that's it. The End.

The Great Chicago Fire of December 6, 2004

So how 'bout that fire in the middle of Chicago's financial district? I didn't find out about it until a concerned Chosen One's father called to ask if I was safe. Interesting how someone over 1,700 miles away knew about what was going on, when I, being less than 17 miles away, did not. As usual, Erwin is the last to know, and in this case, the last to know the 4-1-1 on the 9-1-1 in the 3-1-2 at the 1-3-5 where there was a major 5-11 at 6-30 on 12-6...

And now some observations surrounding the event:

1. Fire starts with an "F" and so does Female. And like a female, it will do anything for attention, i.e. preventing men from watching any sport on TV. So when Monday Night Football was interrupted for what seemed like the entire game for fire coverage, all I could think of was another word that started with "F": FUCK!

2. When I get my own place, a fireplace will need to be a must. The 3 hours I spent watching the fire was more entertaining than anything I had seen on TV in a really long time. Now if only I could have gotten marshmallows to roast by simply waving them in front of the TV, I'd be set.

3. I really have to wonder how many takes reporters have to do for their taped news pieces to be deemed good enough to air on TV. They must cringe when they have to do live breaking news stories because they show to the world how really air-headed they are. There should have only been one station that should have been allowed to do the live reporting coverage. All the other stations could have just shown the live footage of the fire with "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire" playing in the background.

4. Tourists are not people. They are obstacles in the path to reaching point B from point A. Since we do not consider these things to be people, we should have the right to push them into the middle of oncoming traffic when they walk slow, stop or make an effort to stare at the building with a black smoke band around it. Hell, we should push these people things into oncoming traffic anyways because it's our duty as law-abiding citizens. What law says we should push stupid ass clowns into the middle of the street for the sake of humanity you ask? It's called Survival of the Fittest.

As the Cookie Crumbles

Hey, doesn't that sound like a catchy title to some new reality TV series? Okay, maybe not, but at least it sounds more original than The Real Gilligan's Island. Is the original Gilligan's Island going to be renamed The More Real Gilligan's Island or The Original Gilligan's Island? And about this so-called Real Gilligan's Island...if memory serves me correctly, the original crew of the SS Minnow was rescued, but then managed to get themselves stranded on the anonymous "island" again...so why aren't they given a chance to compete on this show? The perfect but abrupt ending to the show would be the revelation that the original cast, after eating all the coconuts on the island, have become savages and cannibalize the Gilligan's Island castaway wannabe's. We've already had a reality show called Dog Eat Dog, why not Human Eat Human? That would make for awesome ratings!

Oh man, I've got myself started:

And why do they call reality tv shows that? Those shows are so far from reality it's not even funny. Where in reality do I get to be stranded on some tropical paradise and talk shit about everyone else behind their backs? Or totally whore myself out to a bunch of women who say they want to marry me out of love knowing that whether or not the relationship works out, there's certainly gotta be some type of cash prize involved somewhere?

And about the contestants...the filming of these shows seem to take place over a lengthy period of time. What do these people tell their bosses about leaving work? "Mr. or Ms. Boss person, I am loyal to the company and I really do love what I do, but I have aspiring dreams to become a reality TV show actor or actress, and I feel this is the one and only shot I have to achieve it"?

Could you imagine what the world would be like without these stupid, pointless shows?