Friday, February 16, 2024

In Which We Play Doctor

 Did I tell you about the Uber I recently had where I, minding my own business, suddenly realized the musical entertainment was a Christian rock radio station.  Dude, really? Could we maybe change to  heathen R&B? Agnostic jazz? Something that doesn't include the word "praise" quite so often or quote some fairy tale from the bible.

I have been spending quite some time with Uber of late.  Part of the joys of being an old man are the abundance of doctor's appointments that I get to enjoy.  Waiting rooms all across San Francisco have become known to me.  When I was younger, I would pass the time by rearranging the furniture in them more to my liking, but now I just sit there and sulk.

But mrpeenee, I hear you ask, what is the point of these medical rendezvous?  Oh, this and that, most of it expensive and usually painful. I had to get my trigger point injection in my back cause the first one had finally worn off and also which, ouch. 

Speaking of ouch, I had to get the various bits of sun damage spread out over my hide checked on.  As a small blonde child growing up on the Gulf Coast, I had plenty of blistered skin and my frequent sunburns are coming back to haunt me.  Discolored lumps and bumps now litter any patch of skin that was ever exposed to the sun. My doctor refers to them as barnacles.  Hilarious sweetie, absolutely side splitting.

You deal with these by taking liquid nitrogen on a q-tip and dabbing it on the offending lump. The nitrogen cauterizes said lump ("cauterize" is a fancy word for "burn that shit off" and it is exactly as much fun as it sounds.) I always exaggerated the discomfort and would squeal and berate my doctor for humorous effect.  My original practitioner was always quick with the dabbing part so we could move on to my theatrics.  My current doctor apparently feels the need to be more thorough and will cheerfully swab away like it's some arts and crafts project.  I want to explain to her that this is not some hobby, but I'm so busy gritting my teeth I can't quite get around to it.

Also, I had to go to the chiropractor, but since that's mostly just a gossiping, I don't really mind it.

Medically necessitated naked guys:

The weather continues to insist on being winter.

I forget his name, which just seems like rank ingratitude, sorry.

Serious buttchops.

Even the most tasteful interiors are improved with the addition of a beefy young man.

Once again, redhead pussy is simply irresistible.

Also I had to go the eye doctor because my computer glasses aren't working.  So frustrating when I am trying to mine the nude dudes of Tumblr.

But somethings even I can see.


  1. I have a barnacle that needs attending to. Thanks for the reminder.

  2. As a redhead I know the dermatologist all too well. During my childhood summer officially started with the first sunburn that blister my skin. I would watch TV at night peeling it off.

    I had one barnacle the dermatologist shaved off. She told me it would come back. It has but it was shaved off ten or more years ago.

    1. I treasure the memory of the joys of peeling skin off.

  3. Gotta love how they photographed #1,
    in his natural surroundings, with his species.

    I started getting things on the top of my head that needed that nitrogen touch too. I hate wearing caps, but I've since changed my ways. I don't especially like the cure, but I don't like thinking that this shit on my head, if left unchecked would become horns.

    Some well-intentioned gentile clued me in years ago that Jews have horns. I'd hate to prove her right.

  4. Got a big ol' land mass frozen off my arm 15 years ago. Apparently this is common in the PNW, where one drives with the left arm out the window any time the weather permits. And I did, and do. I cannot be stopped. I am ku-raaaaaaaazy. Yoicks.

  5. Trapped in an Uber with the stereo playing "Christian rock" (an oxymoron if ever I heard one)? Oh hell no! I would have told the driver to pull over so I could take the bus instead. It seems getting barnacles frozen off would be more fun.

    Anonymous, too

    1. Christianity and rock does seem like a confusing mashup.

  6. With your painful appointments, the irksome music and your recent airport aggravation, did you at least treat yourself to a latte at Peet's?

  7. I may have to go t the doctor myself. The first guy took my breath away and I haven't regained it. And re-arranging the waiting room? Maybe a gay thing...I do the same at times.

    1. i don't think I've ever seen a waiting room that couldn't have used my help.

  8. A friend of mine told me in hushed tones that he hasn't been a backdoor Deirdre for five years because of an embarrassing problem regarding an anal skin tag, after some coaxing I got him to drop em and spread em, then I tied cotton thread around the offending bum nugget and 3 days later it dropped off, he was thrilled.


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