Things I do not recommend doing number 28.
2006-06-25 4:48 p.m.
I do not recommend getting your fan out of storage, turning it on high oscillation while all your medical records are sitting in a neat pile on the coffee table. Holy Shit! It was like a medical tornado. Now I have to put them all back in order...
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraSorry Angelina.
2006-06-25 10:06 a.m.
I woke up this morning in tears. I was crying uncontrollably because I had to leave Africa and come home. I was back in America and felt so completely out of place. It was like I had left my soul in Africa and I was this empty vessel, not able to fill myself back up again.
For the record, I've never been to Africa. I'm not even sure which country I visited while I was there. I think perhaps, I had Angelina Joilie's dream. I wonder what she dreamed about? Probably vampires and dead poets. I bet she woke up as confused as I did.
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraExtra compensation will be provided for biting and scratching.
2006-06-24 9:27 a.m.
I'm scared to death to go to the grocery store. My biggest fear is that I'll run out of energy and collapse, doing something terribly embarassing like bashing my head open, having a seizure or vomiting on some really cute guy's shoes. I kid you not. Normally, I love grocery shopping. It's fun. I adore food, cleaning supplies, cat goodies and anything on sale. I'm a whore for a good sale. Case in point:
"Oh. my. god! That's the cutest shirt ever and it's the only one left. Give it to me and I'll totally have sex with you!" Old lady gives me a weird look, hands over the shirt and pushes her cart away from the clothing department as fast as her orthopedic shoes will take her.
But I digress. What happens now is I run out of stamina somewhere in the frozen foods section. I'll start shaking and my knees will buckle. I'll also start to run a very high fever. I usually open the door to the ice section and sit down for a minute while pretending to read the back of a fish sticks container. No one will bother you if you look busy, even if you're sitting in the ice container. I'll try to pull all my energy together and use my cart as a walker and finish my route fighting off nausea, fever and the shakes. People probably think I'm a heroin addict or Courtney Love on a bender.
Once I get home, drag everything inside and put it all the groceries away, I take a nap. For one or two hours. I totally leave it up to my body. Needless to say, I have no life. I mean who the hell would want to date this? I mean the sex alone would probably kill me. Perhaps I should put that in my Power of Attorney. If there is no hope for me I want my next of kin to hire Orlando Bloom to fuck the life out of me. Literally. Wouldn't that be lovely?
So in an effort to build up my stamina/make my body more attractive to Orlando Bloom. I've started exercising every single day. Tivo has helpfully started recording "Denise Austin's Fit & Lite" which is a great mixture of cardio, yoga, pilates and strength training. It's only a half an hour so before you get worn out on something, you've already switched to something else. I'm getting some wicked muscles but I'm not noticing much in stamina. However, It's only been two weeks. Mabye I'll notice something after another two weeks. Either that or Hello Mr. Bloom.
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraThings I Want My HMO To Say To Me
2006-06-22 10:52 a.m.
"These robes were designed by Louis Vuitton and were created to wrap around your body and cover your entire ass."
"As your condition is on the NIH rare diseases list, all treatment and medications are free."
"We've recently discovered that sarcoidosis responds best to massage, facials and frequent injections of shiraz."
"Here's your doctor's home phone and cellphone numbers. You are her only patient so feel free to call her night or day."
"You're being assigned a Helper Ocelot that's been trained to make coffee and give neck massages."
"A home nurse will stop by once a week to check your blood pressure, wash the dishes, vacuum and paint your toenails."
"In accordance with the American's With Disabilities Act your cubicle will be remodeled by a feng shui master and you'll be hired a personal shopper."
"Physical therapy sessions will consist of watching MXC videos and liposuction."
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraBeloved.
2006-06-21 1:32 p.m.
He let�s himself in, all silent and stealth and I find him in the same place that I always do; sitting at the end of my bed cleaning his nails with a dagger, waiting for me to wake up. He used to keep the dagger in his left boot, but changed to a hilt at the small of his back. A silent tribute to me, for his shoulders are as limber as mine and he can work a knife with his right hand as well as his left, even if he calls his sinister hand the killing hand. I�m no longer surprised by his late night visits. I�ve half come to expect them. He smells like leather and sweat. He�s been busy.
"You�ve forgotten me," he says, shooting me a quick glance, his voice sounding more petulant than he intended.
I shift up onto my elbows, slowly. You don�t want to move quickly around an assassin. I learned that lesson the hard way and my fingers drift to the scar that sits above my left breast, where my heart beats quickly beneath.
"No, I haven�t," I sigh. Just looking at him makes my heart ache. This spectre of mine. So beautiful and so real to me, but no one would believe me if I told them about him. Even if I showed them the scar.
He moves faster than my eyes can track and crawls over me like a large cat. He stares down at me with his green eyes, darker than mine, full of things that I would never want to see, yet he dares me to stare into them and learn his story. He leans in close and I shiver as his breath tickles my ear.
"It�s time," he says. I nod, closing my eyes, breathing deep of his scent. I want to reach up and push my fingers through his dark hair but I'm afraid to move and when I open my eyes he�s gone. Damn.
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraShopping, bikinis and matching underwear.
2006-06-20 10:03 p.m.
I worked my ass of all day long. Not that you'd be able to tell by looking directly at my ass, but I spent all day at command central - which is the corner of my couch with a big file and laptop where I typed for hours. I had a nice reprieve when the UPS man showed up. What is this? I thought as I opened up the huge plastic bag. Then I remembered - but of course, Victoria's Secret! I got a new pink Ipex bra with matching bikini panties (I cannot leave my house unless my bra and panties match), a super sexy bikini (Yes, me in a bikini! and it doesn't look half bad) and three tiny t-shirts: one in black, white and pink. Everything fit and made me look pretty. I love that. Usually mail order is hit or miss but Victoria's Secret is very kind hearted to us well endowed chicks. The bikini top has underwire, a bit of padding and ties in the back so you can cinch it as tight as you need to get the cleavage you desire. Maybe by the end of summer I'll model it but not quite yet. *wink*
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraTabasco corneas.
2006-06-20 1:17 a.m.
I'm sure you've seen the television ads for Restasis where happy looking people are talking to their doctor about dry eyes then joyfully putting eye drops into their eyes while soothing new age music plays in the background. My ophthalmologist thinks that the dreaded sarcoidosis has scarred my tear ducts and gave me a prescription for Restatis to decrease inflammation in my eyes and encourage natural tear production.
Restasis fucking hurts. It's akin to putting drops of tabasco directly onto your corneas. Restatis ads should realistically show shiny happy people squeezing drops into their eyes, blinking rapidly then falling to the ground in the fetal position, screaming while trying to claw their eyes out as The Dead Kennedy's "Kill the Poor" plays in the background. I'd like to have a few choice words with their marketing department.
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraMy Father, Killer of Dangerous Insects.
2006-06-19 1:18 a.m.
For Father's Day my dad came over to my house and comitted insecticide. Normally I'm pretty strong and can handle just about anything, but I cannot handle swarms of things, especially buzzing stinging swarms of things and a large hive of bumblers have taken up residence beside my back door.
Quite a few years ago when I was poor I lived in a shack. I am not exaggerating, it truly was a shack. It had no foundation, in fact there was a opossum named Fernando that lived under the floor of my bedroom closet. I heard him whenever he came home and walked around in three circles then went to sleep. When he was congested I could even hear him snoring. My cat at the time, Chloe, would tip-toe around the bedroom sniffing the air making sure that Fernando had no direct access into the house.
The shack was heated by a tall narrow gas furnace situated in the living room. Sometime during the summer a band of nasty ass hornets built a nest in the attic, so when I turned on the heater it shot live angry hornets into my house. I killed one or two myself, but when there were about two thousand of them (possibly a slight exaggeration) I completely freaked out. I took my phone and my cat, locked myself in the bathroom and called my boyfriend at the time. I turned off the lights, using the logic that if the hornets could not see me, they could not sting me. I also shoved the cat under my shirt in order to protect her. The phone call went something like this:
Me: "OhmygodIambeingattackedbyhornetsgetoverhere. *crying uncontrollably*
BF: "Are you okay?"
Me: "No I'm no fucking okay, there are a million bees in my house and they are going to sting me. You need to get over here and kill them before they kill me." *more crying and incoherent swearing* *loud angry meowing as cat tries to claw her way out of my shirt*
BF: "So, what's going on?"
Me: "GET OVER HERE NOW AND KILL THESE MUTHER FUCKERS OR I'LL NEVER HAVE SEX WITH YOU AGAIN."
BF: "I'm on my way!"
Here's the weird thing (like this isn't weird enough). Suddenly there was a knock at the front door and it was my father and brother. They were making a pit stop from Corvallis where dad picked up my brother from college to take him home to Tacoma. Together they used magazines to kill all the hornets. I think the boyfriend showed up in time to kill the last two, thus ensuring future booty calls. The next day I took my cat to work with me at the bookstore where she hid behind the printer, and the landlord bug bombed the shack.
So here's to my dad: Fireman, Cobra Helicopter Pilot and Killer of Bees. You can't get any more macho than that. I love you Dad.
0 People have tried to sell me Viagra