Shhh... Tonight is the night!

Tonight has been a long time coming. I have felt the need to hide for far too long, keeping my feelings inside me for fear of being persecuted, perhaps even assaulted. But tonight, for approximately two whole hours, I, and those who feel the way I do, will be free for the first time in months. For tonight is the night that "Twilight" opens in theaters, and all the obsessed nut jobs will be busy watching it, leaving regular folk free to ridicule them mercilessly.

Tonight I will not have to stifle my disapproval while some thirty-something, vacuous, wide-eyed ninny goes on and on about Edward fucking Cullen and his perfect, topaz eyes or sparkley, muscled chest. For fucks sake ladies, he's dead and in high school. Perhaps if you spent less time cooing over pubescent, undead, fictional magazine models, you wouldn't have to go home after the movie to your house full of cats.

I don't understand why women too old to be reading this shit are all in an orgasmic tizzy. I don't think there is even any sex in the book. That's right, I haven't read it. Why the fuck would I? It's a teen romance novel for fucks sake! "But its a cool vampire story." No, it's a horrible vampire story. Edward Cullen goes to high school. High school is usually in session in the daytime. VAMPIRES ARE SUPPOSED TO BURST IN TO FUCKING FLAMES IN THE DAYTIME! "Look at that boy over there. Wow, he's hot!" Well of course he's hot, HE'S ON FUCKING FIRE!! Now if that scene was in the movie maybe I'd go see it.

Ok, I suppose I'm done ranting about this crap. I guess I will just calm down, go home, and masturbate to nude pictures of Hermione on the interwebs. Losers.

Dr. Feelgood

Well my doctor retired. Shit. Oh well, I hardly ever go to see him anyways. I rarely bother with that sort of thing unless I really need help, like with strep throat trying to separate my head from my body, or creeping death-rot between my toes that won't go away with four weeks worth of Lamasil AT. Well I needed my cholesterol checked, and my MMR immunizations verified due to some impending foreign travel. So I called up a new doctor, and set up an appointment. After fighting to get my health records transferred (which could be a blog post in itself), I went to see him. No worries, just the usual introductions, blood work, schedule another appointment, etc...

Well I had my second appointment yesterday. It ended up being a full physical. I haven't had one of those in a long time. I guess all doctors want to do this for new patients, but this place is a bit nuts about it. They were checking all sorts of useless retarded shit like if I had full motion in my arms and if I could flip flop my hands over and over on my lap. The whole time I'm thinking, If I couldn't move my damned arms over my head, don't you fucking think I would have gone to see someone by now? Do people go through life not realizing they should be able to touch their toes? Would I have been rated any less of a man if I hadn't been able to successfully squat to the floor and walk like a fucking duck??

Of course this all leads up to the grand finale when he asks to juggle my nuts. Apparently my nuts are unremarkable. I think I would have been OK not knowing that. I like my nuts and would like to imagine that they are special. Like if I ripped them off and planted them in the ground, a huge vine would grow straight into the clouds and Mario could climb it to get some more damned gold coins. And I could stand there all proud with my fists clenched at my hips and say, "I'm glad you are enjoying my magical nut-vine you sadistic, red plumber suit wearing prick!"

But the best bit was when he asked, and I quote, "Do you have any need or desire for a rectal exam today?". This was of course a relief because it meant I could possibly avoid that particular slice of heaven. But I couldn't help but ask him how many patients he sees who claim to possess an intense desire to have a rectal exam. After having my cranium squeezed and examined like a supermarket melon, and my testicles juggled and prodded like a set of Chinese exercise balls, I needed some levity. Well I did indeed manage to remain air-tight on this particular day, but now I have homework. I was given a kit that requires me to crap in a makeshift hammock draped across my toilet seat, and sample the resulting swinging poo with some sort of extract-o-graboid plunger device. Frankly, the whole concept is going to give me night terrors.

I suppose the good news is that according to my blood work, I am a pillar of health. Except for my cholesterol. A while ago I clocked a whopping 270, and now with slight dietary modification and exercise I have managed to eek it down to 268. Whoopee-fucking-doo. Now I'm on Lipitor so I have something else to talk to my dad about. Getting old sucks. If they could create a medication that contained Lipitor, Prilosec, Viagra and a 6 pack's worth of alcohol in one little steak flavored pill, I bet it would sell like fucking hotcakes.

Match worked.

Sorry about the lack of posts here lately. Turns out Match actually found me a piglet and I haven't had much to be angry about. (Translation: I have been getting laid).