Excruciating pain in my buttocks for three days. The large Jamaican nurse says she is going to mix a pint of molasses and a pint of warm milk. Insert a plastic tube into my tush and fill it with this mixture. Life is really getting tough. Why did that little tube feel so big? Why did she leave the room? I had been in serious pain for eight hours, so she could’ve said she was going to stick a vacuum cleaner in my butt and I would have agreed. Shortly after she left, I was ready to explode all over that hospital bed. I hit the call button 25 times then screamed, “Nurse, help!”
It took all the strength in my butt cheeks to hold back the explosion. She popped back in the room. Took a long time to put gloves on. Pulled the tube out. I ran down the hallway half-naked and barefoot. It was one of the top five bowel movements of my life time. The noise alone was scary. The pain was finally gone. I thanked my nurse as if she had saved my life. I am going to now eat more fruits and vegetables.
I used to have to keep a close eye on my dog, Louie. Whenever he got out without his leash on, he’d run out of sight and wouldn’t come back. I’d have to grab some treats and drive after him, and there’s something I hate about driving at a crawl down the street yelling “Louuuuuuie” over and over.
Then my new roommate moved in with her dog Daisy. Since Daisy moved in, I don’t have to worry about Louie straying too far from home anymore. He stays right by her side.
It’s good to know that the roommate situation has worked out for the both of us.
She has agreed to move in with me. I am going to clean my house, and brush my teeth regularly. She drinks white wine. I may pick up ten bottles. She does not like marijuana. I am quitting next week. She could be after my money. I don’t have any. She says that she loves me. I don’t know if that is true, but it is sure nice to hear.
I am an old bachelor. I have never said the words, will you marry me. My health has taken a turn for the worse with failing kidneys. I am lonely like never before. A girlfriend from my past happened to call and I told her of my situation. She drove eight hours, and stayed with me for the week of my surgery. Her kindness, and the sad feeling I felt after she left has me ready to pop the question. I am ready to get down on my good knee and say, will you marry me?
My doctor didn’t tell me that my stress test would be stressful. It was partly my fault because my loose shorts kept falling down. This hindered my stride, with one hand holding my shorts up. First the nurse, who looked like a boxer, shaved my chest with a razor that pulled out more hair then it shaved. Then, with many wires attached, she told me to get on the treadmill.
I think she was trying to break me down. She had the treadmill on its highest incline. I was running and sucking air through my eyes, my ears, my mouth and my nose. I was getting ready to collapse and fall, possibly tearing off all my wires and sliding back, a heap on the floor. “That’s it. You’re done,” she said.
My heart passed the test, my heart that has been broken so many times
Woosh, when my fat body hits the water there is an explosion. When I surface there is always some kid shaking his head, or laughing. Maybe it is the size of my butt, or the shape of my body, I can really make a big splash. I am going broke, My future doesn’t look rosy, but nobody can make a splash like I do.
From the angle of her sunglasses I can tell the woman in front of me, in the red sports car, is looking at me. I’ll suck in my cheeks, and give her my handsomest look. Now she is twirling her hair with her finger. She must like what she is seeing. I’m pulling up beside her. Shit, It’s a man. He is smiling and waving. You better behave, you ugly pervert.