Doc says I’ll live a while longer…

Doctor cigarette header3459162096

Results of my annual physical are in.

By all the usual standards, I’m alive!

Nice to know that.

I like my doctor, I hate going to the doctor. I dread the day he comes back with the result of some test or other and tells me really bad news. I have no ideal how I’ll respond to it.

Oh sure… the 7 stages and all that; but what does it really mean to me as a person? Will I embrace the reality and fight? Or will I choose to live in blissful ignorance and simply forget to wake up one day?

Burning man.jpeg

There are pluses and minuses to each course of action.

If it’s serious and you fight, you could easily find yourself living in a tight little circle running from appointment to appointment at medical facilities for the rest of your days. I hate the smell of antiseptic in the morning!

On the other hand, if you choose to live in ignorant bliss you could simply live a happy if short span. If you go that route, you have to opportunity to do all the things you might have been afraid to do. Imagine the freedom of being able to do any drugs, have any kind of crazy ass sexual escapades, jump out of planes, climb mountains, live life homeless wandering the world. 

173669 peyote8

Suddenly, albeit perhaps briefly the world really is your oyster. What penalty could conventional law place on you? Arrest? If you’re imprisoned, they provide you free health care. If the law allows you to go you simply go back to doing what you want.

When I’m confronted with my mortality I find myself thinking like this. The concept of no boundaries appeals to me in a very fundamental way.

The idea that nothing, no matter how dangerous really matters is alluring. I suspect the very first thing I’d try is something like peyote or the drug from that tribe in South America that’s been called the “god” drug. Supposedly, this stuff allows you to take a journey to the center of your being and commune with the universe. 

Why haven’t I done these things? Laws, Conventions, Rules, Expectations.  

In other words… FEAR.

Fear of consequences, punishment, loss of freedom, or simply people not liking me.

Consumer Society

It’s ironic because in a very real way I gave up absolute freedom to live in and be a part of a society that I no longer recognize. I guess I’m at that age now where I wonder; What If?

Down that road lies the potential for despair. Not bad to occasionally think about it… Very bad to dwell there.

So what’s the alternative?

Look forward. Remember that all it takes to change the future is to choose the future you want. 

That’s where I’m at. Yep I’ll live another few days, months, years, decades, whatever, but the future is as yet unwritten. Since I’m the one doing the writing I have to remember not to let the past have too much control over what I write next.

I think I’m at a place where I want to experience some of the things I’ve denied myself for no other reason than I wanted to fit in, to be accepted, liked, and thought of as doing what was expected.

I supposed I should say, “Thanks Doc, see ya next year.” maybe I will the next time I talk to him.

Until then… I’m setting a blank piece of paper and a fresh new pen on that desk in my head. I’ll start writing something new.

OK So yesterday wasn’t so Quiet…

Doctor

Got done at the Doc’s.

(No Happy Ending!)

Apparently I was alive enough for the Doc to be confident that I wasn’t going to drop dead in his office.

Yesterday was the first time that my Doc mentioned anything about politics. Apparently, he’s still hopping mad about Trump. I told him I don’t watch the News anymore, and joked, that it’s obviously helped my blood pressure.

He asked how I stayed informed. I told him I read the news because it’s a lot easier to limit my exposure to shit that pissed me off. He said what about Trump? I told him I thought Trump was simply the latest in a long line of politicians who as my grandfather used to say, “are all crooks and liars.” 

My Doc said he loved Obama… 

I said I didn’t love any of our politicians, because they all too easily forgot their job was to be in service to all the people. I’d be happier if they said what they mean, did what they said, and always put the needs of all the people who elected them, first.

There was an uncomfortable silence and we moved back into the professional comfort of the Doctor, Patient relationship.

Traffic

I was glad, because on Obama and the Democratic party, my Doctor and I are poles apart. That doesn’t mean I think my Doctor is a bad guy, or necessarily completely wrong.  I was however, suddenly concerned that he might just be so angry about the current state of our political system, that he might lose sight of the fact that I’m not a bad guy either.

In all honesty, we’re both probably operating from misinformation and the truth is somewhere between our two points of view. More importantly, he’s a good doctor and someone that I value having in my life.

I guess I valued the relationship we’ve built over the years more than the desire to swing him over to my opinion. I suspect that he may have reached the same conclusion.

FLU SHOT

All I can say is that I’m really glad that my hunger hadn’t reached the point that I wasn’t thinking. Otherwise the situation could have gone badly.

I’m really sad that the political polarization in our country is permeating into every aspect of daily life. Politics used to be something you bitched about in a bar with your friends, half drunk. Now it’s almost everywhere and 24/7. I mean who gives a fuck? Those assholes in Washington and the Statehouses across the nation are more than likely in someone’s pocket. The only voice we have is voting and that voice is growing weaker each election cycle. It’s been demonstrated that elections can be affected, not only by foreign governments, but also by a media who is not adhering to good journalistic practices. Thank goodness I thought this instead of speaking it.

Flu

By the time I was done, I was starving. So I thought I’d head out to get something to eat immediately. Traffic was a nightmare!  After sitting on the freeway, (Thats a mis-named thing if ever there was one) for about 45 minutes I noticed I was close to a place I used to have my hair cut. I figured, “What the hell,” and pulled in. They had an opening and soon I was in the chair having my mop cropped. Still very, very, hungry.  

WOW! The prices had gone up… Should’ve checked that before I sat in the chair. A couple of years ago the prices were obscene, NOW, the prices are astronomical! Grrr!

Why is it that you can’t get a decent haircut at a reasonable price anymore? I don’t want anything fancy, I just want consistent.  I’ve tried many places in Escondido & San Diego and you’re lucky if the same person is working at the place from month to month. The phenomena isn’t limited to San Diego, it’s everywhere. I was noticing it long before I moved out of the OC / Riverside area. I don’t like clipper cuts, I like scissor cuts. Clipper cuts accentuate the cowlicks I have and frankly, I could probably give myself a clipper cut. 

Iu

Anyhow, the stylist did a pretty good job, at least it’s workable. Maybe I can find a hairburner in San Diego that can maintain the cut. If that fails, I’m going to be heading to a stylist in Beverly Hills that comes highly recommended by several friends.  Who, believe it or not… is cheaper than the place I was at yesterday.

Still hungry, I get back on the misnamed road called a freeway. Traffic was better and the further I got out of southern OC the better it got. Pretty soon, I could see the mountains I call home. 

Got in the door, started wolfing down junk food, then started laundry.

Shutting down the irrigation system had to wait until today. 

However, I’m moving very slow today. Maybe the flushot I got yesterday. Not that I feel sick, but I do feel super tired. That’s probably the immune response kicking in, creating antibodies to fight off the faux infection. It’ll pass in the next day or two.

Gotta get a move on, the day is passing and I’m done with the weeks laundry.

Have a great weekend.

An Ugly Tableu

Getting home form a hard day at work. I get out of my car and see two neighbors having a conversation. I think nothing of it at first.

It’s only as I’m opening my car passenger door to get my backpack that I clearly hear the woman in the conversation fairly shrieking “You touched your penis!

Some part of my exhausted brain went, “Huh? What?”

The conversation that I heard after that went something like;

You touched your penis, you were in my apartment. You’re a piece of filth! No wonder your wife left you, no wonder your son doesn’t want to live with you. I hope everyone figures out what a peice of trashy filth you are!

The man who was the object of this tirade is using a cane to walk, he moves slowly and uncertainly, due to severe spinal damage. In other words, this guy is probably zero threat to a woman. And God only knows that he may have adjusted himself because of something to do with the injuries.  

I honestly don’t know, I wasn’t there. I can say that occasionally this guy when I’ve spoken to him outside the apartments. I have noticed that sometimes (clearly unconsciously he adjusts himself). Honestly it looks like he’s in pain when he does it.

As I focused on the “Conversation” I could see that he was genuinely ashamed. I could also see that the woman was quite enraged.

Then I really took a look at her and the first thought I had was she looked like Jabba the Hut.

Hell, I’d have been adjusting myself to prevent my penis from crawling up inside.

But then I realized I was downwind. I couldn’t help but notice the fetid odor of unwashed human, with just a touch of yeasty vagina. Yeah, I could smell all this from about 10 feet away.

RETCH

Now I have a conundrum, I can ignore this insanity. Or I can say what I really think, which is;

Damn lady if this broken old man is getting wood because of your fat stinky ass, you should count yourself lucky. I’d imagine there’s been nothing twix your legs that didn’t run on batteries for decades. I’d bet your vibrators are so stinky that you have to replace them every month because some stink just never goes away. I’d never punish my dick by putting it in you. Hell, seeing you naked would make me want to suck cock for free, on the street, in Iran! At least then my torment would be ended quickly by a fall from a tall building.

But I weighed my options, decided that I was too tired and that this was not my battle.

After all for me, very few people I encounter would be worth my energy.

I evaluated the situation for a moment more…

I closed the passenger door to the car, shook my head and walked away.

Neither of these people were my concern. 

In retrospect, I think that it was the shrillness of the harridan, and how closely she was mimicking, so closely the “Group Think” of the feminist movement today. Obviously she thought all men were scum but wasn’t pretty enough or gutsy enough to simply declare she was a lesbian.

Some gay men who never fully embrace their gayness get really weird and very hostile to women and other gay men. Perhaps this was the female version of the phenomenon.

Remotely interesting… Still not interesting enough for me to engage. Perhaps it was simple penis envy… Nope, not interesting enough.

I climbed the stairs to my apartment, unlocked and opened the door, closed it behind me and was immediately cloaked in silence.

Bliss!

I guess that I’m just over all the politics, victimhood, and insanity. 

I did feel kinda bad for the guy. 

But like most men, I figured if he wouldn’t defend himself then I wasn’t going to do it for him. 

Yep, the peace of my apartment was a lot better than listening to a shrill bitch badmouthing men simply because we have external plumbing.

One of those things that goes through my mind…

Saw an article on The Huffington Post the other day. It was a puff piece that was entertaining.

Then I noticed the masthead

Okay, I thought, then I wondered if there was a “HUFFPOST MEN”

Guess what? There isn’t!

WTF? That’s exclusionary of 50% of the population. It’s sexist! Where is the justice? Are we looking at another gamer gate situation? I cry FOUL! Men have issues and need places online where they feel safe and where issues of specific interest to men can be discussed.

Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds silly when I say it, but why isn’t it silly on it’s face?

Look at the selections offered under “Voices”. Notice anything?

Think about who’s missing?

Men, and Asians. It occurs to me that generally those two groups are not prone to bitching about much of anything. All the other groups pretty much bitch or scream about some perceived discrimination or slight at the drop of a hat.

To their credit, the “Religion” section does a pretty good job of representing everyone. I went there because another group missing from the “Voices” subheading is Muslims. They are represented under “Religion” with an interesting balance.

So Huffington Post, where are the Men and people from Asia? Why aren’t they receiving fair representation?

Yeah, I know I’m weird. I have this perverse sense that if you demand equality and claim to stand for equality then you should truly be, well…

Egalitarian.

Huffington Post editors and writers, If you don’t know what that word means, I have two comments for you. 1) You paid too much for your education. 2) You need to go buy a Webster’s Dictionary.

The cold from hell is finally abating

For those of you that have The Cold. I give you hope. The light you see glimmering at the end of the tunnel is not necessarily an oncoming train or “The Light” you’re supposed to go into when you die.

After two weeks of misery, today I’m finally feeling more like my old self.

This has been the worst cold or flu I’ve had in many years. And to add a little spice and variety to the wonder that the virus brought into my life. The damn thing was morphing as it progressed. It’s a tease too, I’d start to feel better, then wham! A whole new set of symptoms. Then about the time my body would get a handle on those symptoms, pow! Something completely new.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve been chilled to the bone with my teeth chattering in a sleeping bag, while the ambient temp in the house was 70° F. I spent a couple of days where I was too hot with the temp in the house at 65° F. I’ve had my joints ache so bad it was agony to move my legs. That was followed up with body wide cramping of all my muscles. Through it all, my sinuses were producing all manner of gothic horrors (I had a club handy just in case the kleenex started moving!) and the coughing and hacking left my already painful ribcage feeling like I’d been in a violent car accident.

How do I know I’m on the mend? The same way every man knows they’re getting over something… I’m thinking really dirty thoughts and want to just get NASTY.

Ladies, that’s the way we work… As we get sick we want to screw because we know we’ll feel better for a little while and if whatever we’re coming down with kills us, well at least we went out on a good note.

All men want to have an unseemly grin on our faces in our caskets. I personally want to have a dirty smirk so locked on my face that my mother would blush and my spouse can’t have it jackhammered off. I want my last hurrah to be etched on my face and so dirty that folks seriously consider a closed casket. For the sake of the children, don’t ya know.

Once we survive the disease, we want to screw to declare to the world that we’re awesome, victorious, and our genes are worthy. Besides it makes us feel better. ( are you seein a theme here?) Ya just have to picture a big silver back gorilla and you’ve got a snapshot of us and what makes us tick.

So, I’m off to pound my chest, or whatever else seems appealing.

Don’t give up hope, The Cold doesn’t last forever.

It just seems that way.

3AM

Also known as, “The Soul’s Midnight” 

It’s that time of night (morning) that can either be a whole lot of fun if you’re fucking around with someone or a group of someones, and a good time is being had by all or when you’re heading home from somewhere you shouldn’t have been. (To paraphrase Garth Brooks)

Luckily in my life I’ve had both of those situations. I’ve been toying with a book of rules to observe if you’re involved with the latter.  


Not my Brand

Helpful hint: Shower, YES! Make sure you bring your own brand of soap and don’t scrub your pits. You can scrub the skank off your nether regions and body leaving them fresh as a daisy, don’t bother with your hair or pits because after a hard day at work you aren’t supposed to smell like you just stepped out of a shower.

On the other hand you don’t want the smell of someone else’s perfume on you when you snuggle into bed with your spouse. This method splits the difference leaving you smelling just about like you should.

If you forget, and scrub all over, all is not lost. Have a nice long J/O session in your car, after you get off, relax a few minutes and let your natural smell develop. Just don’t get caught by the local cops looking for perverts.

If on the other hand you’ve forgotten your normal brand of soap… Brother, You’re on your own and may God have mercy on your soul.


Angel of Death

The Urban dictionary defines Soul’s Midnight a bit differently than I do.

Soul’s Midnight

3AM; more specifically when clubs close and everyone eating at 24-hour diners should vacate lest they be subjected to the deluge of belligerent glitter-covered drunkards and party girls exiting said clubs.
If it’s 2:58, you’re fine. If it’s 2:59, start running. You don’t want to be in the Denny’s parking lot for Soul’s Midnight.

My primary definition has an older, darker, meaning. This was the time of night when hospital staff noticed more people died.

There are other possibilities for why you might be up at this hour.

afterparty

You could be a bartender coming home from a your shift.  <— Count your money AFTER you’ve gotten home.

You could be awakened by a dog who needs to go out <— Not so bad, way better than waking up to a mess.

You could wake up from a nightmare and decide after tossing & turning from the adrenaline hit that you might as well just get up. Not so much from the adrenaline but because your brain rebooted in the full ON position and you’re unable to stop thinking about the shit that has you worried.

Sadly, it’s a combination of 2 and 3 on tonite’s agenda.

NPH

I’d woken up from a slight nightmare, and I think because a music playlist finished. I was just settling back to sleep when I realized the dog was at the side of the bed looking at me.

Okay pup, let me get something on; Dog has gone down the hall at a good clip; OR NOT. I haul my carcass out of bed, my naughty bits pulling up tight from the cold.

“Damn! what the hell is the temp in this place, 50 below?”

I open the door, the dog trots down the stairs into the backyard.  I wait for a minute or two but when the dog is heard ralphing I figure he’s going to be a while.

I close the door, I’m officially awake! 

I crank the thermostat to warm the house to something slightly warmer than the surface temperature of Pluto.

After trying the usual distractions, Here I sit.

I DONT NORMALLY WATCH PORN BUT WHEN I DO I DO IT LIVE

On the plus side I rediscovered a 3 hour long porn I’d forgotten about. I guess I should wander through the porn collection more often. This film has some fun scenes, and I think I’m going to dig out the DVD and re-rip it so that the scene markers are preserved. As it is now, all you can do with the file is fast forward. It might be nice to be able to use the “Next” scene function.

I like switching on porn at this hour because there’s nothing more celebratory of life, than ropey jets of cum shooting across a room. (paraphrasing that line, with thanks to Henry Rollins.) 

I popped out to some “On-line” hangouts some acquaintances are on late at night. No-one was up, or if they were they were, they were in private chats or fooling around in real life instead. So much for the live show and conversation.

I’d fire off the re-ripping of the DVD right now but I’d wake the rest of the household trying to find the thing, then I’d be listening for the drive to spin down signaling that the machine was finished.

I’m a little OCD about that kind of thing. I guess that the fear of the computer actually cooking while “cooking” on the task I set it keeps me cat napping instead of sleeping.

Nah, I’ll start that process tomorrow. 

So what to do now?

SteamingPileoPoo

Work at making ropey jets of cum??  I know as soon as I get into it, there will be a scratch at the door. Speaking of which, the dog should have been back by now. Ahh and of course the other dog wants out. 

Okay.

Oh Thanks #2 dog! Leaving poo neatly centered in the dirt right off the back stair, while qualifying as doing your business in the yard, means that I have to do Poo patrol before #1 dog comes back in and steps in it.  #1 doesn’t see very well at night anymore.

Not my preferred method of spending the hour between 3am and 4am but at least now I am looking forward to getting back into my nice warm bed and falling asleep.

Finish poo patrol. Turn off the lights. Lock the door. Head for bedroom.

#1 & #2 dogs are on their cushions asleep already. They’re snoring and as I step over them to get to my bed, they both give me the “Oh, you’re still up?” look.

Ya know Dogs…

Sometimes you guys are real jackasses!

I see a treat shortage in your immediate future.