Monday, October 1, 2007

How Hard Could It Be to Cut off Your Own Foot, Anyway?

Why do minor medical problems during the day wait to turn into monster crises in the middle of the night? For that matter, why do they always schedule themselves for Friday after work, when your doctor is gone, to rear their ugly heads? It's 3:00 AM, my foot hurts, has done so with increasing shrillness all weekend and I have lots to do tomorrow. On the bright side... wait, there is no bright side. Oh, I know. The bright side is that tomorrow I can blame this post on the Valium I took and which seems to be having the same potent effect of a blue M&M. I'll stop now before this turns into one of those Andy Rooney-esque cries for euthanasia. I'll go find a humpy boy picture to post instead.

Everybody like humpy boy pictures.


  1. O thanks, sweetie. The good thing about a blog is that it allows you a space to whine without waking up your boyfriend in the middle of the night.

  2. I hope you feel better soon.

    Take two rent boys and call me in the morning.


  3. At last, a prescription I can appreciate.


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