I fell off the planet for over a month. I’ve been visiting Shitville. It sucks and it does not get my seal of approval as a vacation destination.
Every summer I get a high voltage cortisone shot, this shot gives me a glimpse into an almost normal existence for about a month. It’s my happy. If I were a Time Lord, this shot would be my “the universe is doomed and I get to save it” scenario. It’s a big deal. After the shot this summer, I got a few days of full throttle and then I crashed into what felt like a giant vat of clay ruled by some kind of animal overlord that liked to jab a hot poker into random joints on my body. It was probably a gopher, those guys are assholes. Feeling horrid when I was supposed to be feeling groovy seriously pissed me off. The idea that this shot – my only option for a snippet of normal – wasn’t going to work anymore almost sent me over the edge and into full on “life is always going to suck so fuck it” mode. I’ve basically been feeling like a combination of hammered, festering horseshit and Eeyore minus the sunny disposition. I’m still icky but it’s my usual amount of icky and I can handle that with an occasional 72-hour nap and about 15 prescriptions. WooHoo! I’m back, bitches.
I’ve been telling y’all things psychically for weeks. I’ve literally been chatting with you in my head. That is perfectly sane. I googled it. Eventually, Volker had to go and ruin everything by insisting that no one could hear what I was thinking. Really, Volker!? NO ONE? There’s a lady that can tell you what some dead armadillo on the side of the road in West Texas is thinking, so, I’m pretty sure SOMEONE could hear me. As much as it hurts to say, he’s probably partially right and it’s likely that I was not communicating telepathically with everyone.
Here are a few highlights of our past conversations that you may or may not have dreamt about.
My sisters kidnapped my cat wine. How do I know it was my sisters’ doing? One sent the text and the other is actually in the proof of life photo. Oops.
Bed Bath and Beyond added a porn section.
And, I had the honor of meeting my best friend since 6th grade’s baby, Savannah. She’s stunning!
I’m saving the rest for later. Later, like Wednesday, not later like two month from now. I’m sorry for disappearing. I hope to never disappear again. It sucks.
American German – language lesson #71
Meine Frau ist Fledermausscheissenverrückt. (mine-a frow ist flay-der-mouse-shy-sin-fair-rue-kt) My wife is bat-shit crazy. I really just wanted to use bat-shit crazy in a sentence. I don’t have a wife. If you want to say “My husband”, just change the first two words to “Mein Mann” (mine man). Also, I may have made the bat-shit word up and no German would say or know it. However, they’ll get the gist if you use it, so, you’re welcome.