Of Health and Well Being, Part I

Today's post shall come in two parts, this one to sate your brains' lusty desires for my lofty prose, and then an other to see how things went.

Tomorrow I have what is ostensibly my last doctor's appointment with our family physician. I lose coverage under my mom's insurance as of the new year and have already been dropped from my father's, so it's now a mad scramble to get me all the medical treatment I'm legally entitled too while I'm still eligible. Tomorrow.

At noon.

Dear God, what is wrong with me that I have to go into the doctor and explain to him that noon is 3.5 hours earlier than I usually wake up? That I've vanquished all but the sociologically learned behaviors associated with being nocturnal? That I'm truly happier avoiding all news shows and daytime programming?

How can I explain the benefits of recently cutting out my vitamins or eating and sleeping now only when and any time that I'm actually hungry or tired? Will I have to explain my choice of turning down the N1H1 vaccine if he recommends it? Will that old bastard try to take my blood himself again? Buddha come down in your magic lotus car and save me now.

On the up-side, I was totally gonna ditch this guy anyway. Granted it's convenient that he has my entire family's medical history memorized, but that also means he's been practicing medicine for like 40 years already. Also, he's a geriatric specialist.

Call me crazy, but I'd prefer my doctor to be more familiar with new and interesting medical options which can be offered to patients who are not old enough to qualify for social security.

Now all I have to do is convince my mom that I simply don't need health insurance as I don't get sick or injured. I mean alright I've been to the emergency room but that was like one time and I got hit in the head with an entire 'nother Jew.


[If you were wondering, no, two Jews to not cancel out and annihilate each other when they collide. Only everyone else annihilates Jews. HEY OHHHHH.]

On Wagon Wheels

Today's post is brought to your be my 40 year old guitar in the hopes that this song will finally stop playing in the back of my head.

If you're looking for the joke, wait until the last instrumental refrain where the audio dips and the video cuts briefly. That would be where my mom decided to wander into the room and ask that I put the Halloween decorations back in the attic "when [I was] done rocking." Awesome.

On Where the Wild Things Are

Possible Locations of the Wild Things:

• Tone Loc's basement
• The Baxter Building
• Wherever the rest of The Troggs' discography disappeared to
• That box in the Adams Family's living room
• based on the film trailers, I'm thinking Soviet Russia just outside of Chernobyl
  

On Responsibility

One of the most hilarious things you can choose to do with your Saturday night is volunteer to D.D.

The designated driver basically gets to have the most wild adventures while remaining sober. He sees everyone at their best and worst throughout the night, which are usually fairly close together. He knows things about you now.

He does not have to pay for the few drinks he does consume. If he starts losing at beer pong, his partner will willfully consume all sunk cups. He gets to play all the Guitar Hero he wants. People buy him food for stopping at a drive-thru on the way home.

He is the designated driver. And he is leering unnervingly at your sister.

Inappropriate Porn Remakes

I made the mistake of Googling "Teenage Mutant Ninja Titties" instead of just drawing one holding Leo's katanas, so here's a handful of kittens which won't scar you, instead.

• "Bend Her Like Beckham"
• "Planet of the Gapes"
• "Screwed"
• "Watch Men"
• "Cheaters"
• "The 17-Year-and-364-Day-Old Virgin" (that's a really intense moment for a porn star I'd guess)
• "St. Elmo's Fire Crotch"
• "Victor/Victoria"
  
• "Angela's Asses"
• "Batman Finishes"
• "Doctors' Strange Love"
• "Sideways"
  
• "Good Will Cunting"
• "Bill and Ted's Sexcellent Adventure"
• "I Love You, Man"
  
• "Look Who's Cumming to Dinner"
• "King Dong"
• "Knocked Up"
• "Iron Man"
  
• "Ocean's Eleven" (featuring Terra Patrick as Danni Ocean)
• "Space Balls"
• "Old Yeller"
• "Robin's Hood: Men In Tights"
• "Sin City"
• "Barely Legal Frankenstein"
  
• "Zack and Miri Make A Porno" (They did, but can we do better?[No, probably not.])
  
• "Wet, Hot American Summer"
• "Teenage Mutant Ninja Titties"
• "X-Men II: X Men United" (think roman numerals "X")
  

On Late Night Surprises That Don't End Up In the Washing Machine the Next Morning

Tonight I got up to pee in the middle of the night and was confused when the cat didn't immediately trip and kill me.

After satisfying my basic natural urges I decided to lay down on the living room floor and taunt the cat with how appealing and flop-worthy I am as a human. Clearly, he would run immediately to my side and profess his unrelenting kitty love for me.

This was not the case.

Shocking.

And yet it was, because 1) this cat is very unfettered by the superiority that imbues all other cats with their mystic powers, and 2) he seemed really really interested in what was outside the sliding glass doors.

I assumed a bird or something. A squirrel maybe. Something we see every day that was just stupid enough to wake up in the middle of the night and stumble upon the knowledge that the birdseed and nuts littering the porch do not magically disappear when the bright glowy sky orb goes away forever or until morning.

After maybe a minute or two humoring him at the cat's side, watching him pace back and forth, staring out into the black, I gave up on being able to see what it was he was looking at. It might have been nothing. He stares at nothing sometimes. Quiet often in fact. For hours.

In my vastly superior mind I contrived a trick I would play on the cat. Working under the assumption that he was seeing either something familiar at a weird time or merely his reflection in the glass of the sliding door, I thought I would flick on the outside light, thus illuminating the small thing outside or changing the lighting conditions and erasing his reflection, utterly upheaving his world.

This was not the assumption I should have been working under.

For the record, the common suburban life form known for scrounging edibles out of anything and trespassing on human property in the bleak of the night is the North American raccoon. The raccoon, ladies and gentlemen.

And holy mother of Buddha was he fat. We're talking a good 25 lbs minimum here. It's getting cold. He was obviously eating ever last bit of food he could in preparation for being really fat and really lazy for the next few months. He had back fat. I did some basic Cro-Magnon math and decided I could feed myself and three friends and keep my head and hands warm if only I had a super-pointy stick nearby. (I have many, but as an evolved man I also love furry little squishy things like comfy sweatpants and the funner parts of the fairer sex.)

After maybe fifteen minutes of staring and determining this raccoon did not give the slightest crap about either my presence or the cat's I got bored and tried to take a photo with my phone, but without a decent light source I got nothing, which was disappointing because I was very eager to communicate the HUGE FREAKIN SIZE of this raccoon.

So then I got my Rubik's cube and waited a few more minutes and when I wasn't looking the big dude bolted from the deck, leaving me and the cat both rather idle and upset at his absence.

I have just this instant decided to name this raccoon Terry. Marvelous.

On Unemployment

Reasons Why I Love Being Unemployed:

• I go to sleep when I feel like it and wake up when I'm no longer tired. This morning I went to bed listening to high schoolers catch the morning bus and I woke up to the sound of an elementary school bus dropping off their little brothers.
• Since my last winter job was eBaying my old collectibles, I might not have to pay federal income tax this year.
• I haven't missed a television show I've wanted to see in four months.
  
• Having been published and having made ≥$0.01 doing so, I can technically call myself a professional writer, so, y'know, literature groupies.
• I calculate my monthly cost of living at about $100, so taking my cue from Seth Rogan's character in Knocked Up, I should be able to live like this at least until the year 2012.
• I retain an uncrushed soul while everyone I know is working like dogs to pay off their debt and weed habits.
• I'm actually putting my life together? I know. Weird.
• I have time to write such wonderful lists