Sweetums, once again mrpeenee begs that you bear with me. We're fighting back the world of chaos on multiple fronts. Before we delve into the sordid details, here's some houseboy bits to make us all feel a little cheerier.
Chaos, the one: Project Runway begins shortly and I have given up cable. What a fool I was.Chaos, part deaux: Saki, the evil and adorable cat has gone on a hunger strike over the kitchen renovation. It's too disruptive, I've moved his food bowl, the kitchen is sealed off, he's mad. He hasn't eaten since Monday night. Today, in case you haven't been paying attention, is Thursday. Consequently, Nursemrpeenee has loaded up a syringe (oh, I just happened to have it lying around) with chicken broth and am occasionally blasting it down his throat. Yes, we're living in a kitty nourishment shooting gallery.
Chaos III: the side effects of my AIDS medicine, Atripla, which I had long since overcome, have decided to rear their nasty little heads. It's possible this is related to the fact that I was absentmindedly taking two of the pills each night instead of the prescribed one. I have no idea how long I have been stumbling along like this. Last night I looked down at the dose in my hand and thought "Wait a minute...."
So now that I'm not poisoning myself semi-accidentally, maybe things will get better. Till then, I can look forward to waking up each night in an agitated panic, gasping for breath like a crazed poodle and, worst of all, in the middle of a hot flash. Yes, it's true; my HIV meds bring on the menopause.
I've looked this up, out of the almost 800 men participating in a test on this drug, only one reported this side effect, feeling like he was nailed down beneath the french fry heat lamp at Burger King. Great, I win the lottery.
In happier news, the widely reported birthday of internet malcontent NormaDesmond (Happy B.D., old girl) has reminded me that Jason, over at Night is Half Gone posted recently that his version of Aries, my own sweet, sweet horoscope identity is this
God love you, Jeisean.
Godd love you too, Garry.
ReplyDeleteOh, honey. Just remember, this, too, shall pass...
ReplyDeleteBuy one of these to ensure you take the right number of tablets.
ReplyDeleteAs for pussy if he hasn't eaten since Monday it must mean he's getting it from else where! Just like men!
I think Saki is feigning the hunger strike and probably ordering in some Chinese.
ReplyDeleteNo Runway!!! Ack!! How ever will you survive?
And get one of those handy dandy drug dispensers like the one pictured at the top of this post.
Glad i could be of service.
Oh my, The hidden costs of a remodel, they never write that down on the estimate, do they?
ReplyDeletePut a liter bottle of water in the freezer and take it to bed with you, take two houseboys & call me in the morning.
fuck a duck.
ReplyDeleteOh hell. Looks like I need to figure out a to get out there after all, before things completely fall apart. Honestly, you can't be trusted on your own . . .
ReplyDeleteGoogle watch Project Runway online and there it'll be! Good luck! Sorry for the poo time...
ReplyDeleteTry tempting the evil and adorable one with baby food. The strained turkey or chicken varieties (in the smallest-sized jars) will often do the trick. Once he starts eating, you can gradually put him back on his regular food.
ReplyDeleteOr you, Saki, and a handful of houseboys could rent a suite at the Mark Hopkins, or Mark Harmon, or Mark Wahlberg, or whatever the hell it is.
PS to ND: Happy BD -- and we want pictures of you and the duck.
So, medicine for bone cancer also gives one very vivid, livid dreams. A Louis Vuitton Nomade (handbag) doesn't change loved one's hell.
ReplyDeleteHow does one mega-celebrity and international superstar deal with such madness? Fuck if I know, taking meds wrong is like my new hobby. Just remember - what doesn't kill us can fuck us up largely - kabuki zero
ReplyDeleteAll this madness going on and yet you made time for Haiku.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
You wonderful man...As I always say... A stitch in time Darling...
ReplyDelete