The Gift that Keeps on Giving

“You need a colonoscopy“.

“The heck I do!”

That’s how the conversation needs to go.

That’s how it needs to end.

If you’ve ever wanted to know what it’s like to have an angry Troy Polamalu slam into your rear end at full stride wearing a missile-shaped helmet with a pretty little light on the end of it… Well! Then here’s your chance!  Wanna know what it’s like to blow air and mucous out your rear for two whole days??… Yeah. Thought you’d say that.

Once you get the news from your family doctor that you’ll need a colonoscopy… I strongly recommend asking the following questions:

1. What the (your word here) is a colonoscopy?


3. Can my friend film it on his video phone?

4. Will I at least get paid to do this?

5. How long does it take?

6. Will this be on You Tube?

But wait!… There’s some prep work that needs to happen before you ever even make it to Doctor Feelgood…

Depending on what ails you specifically the doctor may want a few stool samples, which you will need to bring with you the day of your colonoscopy. And let me tell you… the idea of depositing measured amounts of one’s own doo-doo into tiny plastic cups and then freezing these bad boys… is an ugly one. (At least it should be). Not to mention you will soon be waltzing into the clinic with your own pretty “non see-thru bag” of frozen turds… so get ready.

The day before the procedure you will have to swallow… please sit down for this… THIRTY SOME-ODD DULCOLAX. Translation please: Self Induced Diarrhea. The good news is that you only get to drink liquids and eat yogurt for a whole stinkin’ day. So at least you won’t be wasting Grandma’s Famous Turkey Pot Pie.

In addition to the magic diarrhea pills… you’ll need some Gas-X… and you’ll need to swig down a gallon of lemon-flavored Magnesium Citrate… which, by the way, is like drinking artificially flavored goat urine. So, good luck with that.

OK… now your day of funny fun is over and it’s time to go…

At the clinic you’ll find a room full of people who are there waiting for their turn. And ever so often you’ll see some unsuspecting sacrificial lamb stand when his name is called, smile ’cause he ain’t gotta wait anymore, then follow the nice lady right on back… “well it’s about time” written all over his face.

Mmmm Hmmm. A few hours later the same door opens realll slowww like… and you see the same dude walkin’ all limpy to one side… kinda half speed now. Oh boy.

Your turn! You stroll on back with your bag of turd sickles, do the whole scale thing… blah blah blah… Now you’re on the bed in your cute little gown… you get jabbed for the IV… get your drugs… fall asleep…

And so you wake up. And it’s all over. And GOD it hurts. Your belly is cramping and your butt hole feels like you sat on the business end of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Get used to it. ‘Cause it’s a whole ‘couple more days before that goes away.

And, ladies… if your sweet little boyfriend comes on back to Recovery to give you butterfly kisses and hold your pin-pricked hand… SEND HIM OUT… ’cause they just pumped your intestines full of compressed air… and it’s fixin’ to rip!

The good news is… the whole thing from start to finish is just a few hours. And you can have someone drive you home as soon as you feel up to it.

So… give yourself a little happy pill while you’re limping on out the door… and say to the unsuspecting magazine-flipping zombies waitin’ for their turn…  “OMG that thing was HUGE!  I’ll pray for you all.”

Published in: on May 21, 2010 at 10:10 pm  Leave a Comment  

Fun Facts for the Census Girl

So the census lady just stopped by. A college girl with a clipboard and an official looking tag hangin’ from her neck. Wants just five minutes of my time and then she’s gone forever.

I’m not one to buck the system (unpaid speeding tickets don’t count)… and I can always pause Netflix and pick up where I left off on season 3 of Prison Break pretty much anytime. So… ok… sure… let’s do it.

I am first of all informed that this little chit chat is confidential. She then proceeds to ask for my name… the names of all persons living on the premises as of April 1… and I cordially interrupt her…

“Can I get you a beer or somethin’?”

“Uh… no”.

“You sure? ‘Cause I got some tor-TILL-as… and I can whip up somma that dip… you know the kind where you mix that packet with the sour cream… won’t take but a few minutes for it to be ready”.

“Um. That’s ok. No.   As of April 1… was there anyone staying or living with you that was Hispanic or Latino?”

“With me? No. But… well… and I’m not tryin’ to get anybody in trouble you know… but… Well, I did see some Hispanic looking people… down there… in that corner condo… (leaning in a bit I whisper) I think they are living there… with relativesand they have a dog… the kind you keep on a chain you know?… they’re not supposed to have that kind of dog, I think”.

“I see. Umm. Ok.  Please look at that form I gave you. In section D… please choose one of the races which best applies to you and your household”.

Here we go again. Political Correctness is not in my nature. But… let’s be fair. If I have to refer to illegal aliens as “undocumented immigrants”… (do you really want me to keep going down the list??)… then by God! I wanna be called “Caucasian”.

“Yeah. I don’t see my race on here. Anywhere. How bout that.”

“I’m sorry?”… she leans forward… forehead crinkled… eyes squinted.

“Yeah. It’s not on here. See for yourself.”

“Well, the first option is “white“. Might that be it?”

“I donno. You tell me.”

“Um, would you like me mark “whitefor you?”

“Sure. Whaddo I care. Hey, you watch the Discovery Channel?? I love that channel. Hey, did you know that our Sun is 93 million miles away from the Earth? Ninetyyyy-Threeeee Milllllioonnnnn. Wow uh?”

“Um. Yeah. Ok. So.. that’s all… and thanks for your time ok. Have a good day ok.”

“Hey! So I guess that’s a no on the beer huh?”

Published in: on May 19, 2010 at 11:45 pm  Leave a Comment  

Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills.

What could be more thrilling than trying to outwit the Internal Revenue Service?

Years ago I was friends with a guy who had just got himself a nice little street bike. He calls me up with this great idea…

“Hey, man! Let’s go see my buddy Matthew in Manchester! I got an extra helmet!”

Time out. I want you to understand something. He is inviting me to ride on the back of the bike… with him in the front… just so you are clear about this.

“Alright!”, I answer. “Let’s do it!”. Yeah. I’m a sucker.

So he rolls up on his Honda 250… this is a small bike by the way… and Here We Go!

Now… I already have paranoid delusions since birth… “Everyone is staring at me”, I used to tell my Father… and he would correct me, “No they’re not… It’s all in your head”. REALLY?! ‘Cause you know there is nothin’ stranger than seein’ two dudes rompin’ about town on a tiny little motor bike the size of your granny’s Hoverround in the dead of summer. I doggon guarantee you… every-one-was-staring.

Anyway. We are on our way to Manchester… some… I don’t know… fifty miles away, I think. Yeah… that’s right. You have the picture in your mind jusssst right…    I’m on the back. Holdin’ on tight… ’cause wouldn’t you know it… dude man at the helm loves to jack rabbit start his little scooter and my skinny little butt keeps slidin’ off onto the back fender. You’ve seen Dumb & Dumber. No further elaboration is needed.

One sec… (If you have not seen Dumb & Dumber… please stop everything you are doing and watch this American Classic before moving on with the rest of your life).

Long story… so I’ll break it down for you…

There is no Matthew.  We ride around all afternoon searching for Matthew. “What’s the problem?”, you ask me??  The Hellion driving this fancy low rider has no clue where this mysterious Matthew even lives. You think I’m kidding, don’t you! Nope. That’s right kids. We came all the way here… on public roads… to see… nobody.

But alas! The day is saved…

Yes, indeed! We are goin’ to the mall! Doggon if this whole trip is gonna be a waste. We are headin’ to the fancy podunk mall of Manchester and we’re gonna…. you know it!… pick up some chicks.

Stop me if you need a moment to recover. I know what you’re thinkin’…  Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills. You know, like nunchuck skills, bowhunting skills, computer hacking skills… Yeah. Girls tend not to go for dudes who like to ride on motor bikes together.

So we roll into the mall lot… and right away… all eyes are on us. That’s right ladies… men are here.

I say to my buddy… “Dude… lemme drive… I been on bikes my whole life… lemme drive”.

Reluctantly he turns the handlebars over to me… with one stipulation… he will ride on the back to make sure I don’t do anything stupid. Good thinkin’! And off we go!

Ah, nowww…. time to get the full attention of allll the babes…   But! Girls are impressed with dudes who have mad skills! Right?

Right! After all… we are now on this babe-impressing mission. And I know exactly what girl like. Trust me.

No warning. I just gun it. I know we were cruisin’ fast… the eyes and cars went streaking by…

Oh crap. I could see the parking lot was ending. Uhh. Andddd there was a…. drop off!… into another parking lot… we are saved! Yessir! “Hold on man!”…   that’s right… I am gonna show the world my mad skills!

So, the curb is slanted… a bonus characteristic to my advantage… having been a long time BMX  enthusiast… I was quite confident in my curb jumping skills. We hit the curb … launch into the air… Andddd….

Oh darn…. that parking lot is kinda far away… and wayyy down there. Uhhh….

SLAM!  We hit the curb at the bottom with the front tire… “Nice job!”... already pattin’ myself on the back.  “But, man that was a hard landing”

Kerthunk. Kerthunk. Kerthunk. Kerthunk.. Kerthunk… Kerrrthunk… Kerrrthunkkk…. Kerrrthhhhunkkk……..

“Oh My Bike! My b***s! My Bike! My b***s!”

Yeah. The impact shattered the front rim. Nice. Now what.

Ah! “Dude… I know bikes… I can fix this… it’s nothin man”… I’m thinkin’ quick here, right.

Yeah. Right. We call another buddy who drives 50 miles in his pickup… Thank GOD for pickups… backs his truck up to a hill… and we push the bike into the back of his truck… and the whole way home I’m all “Dude, I can fix this… I swear”.

Yeah? I paid $150 to a bike shop for repairs. And… guess what!… No Chicks! Andddd… I can’t ride his bike anymore. Awww.

Published in: on May 19, 2010 at 8:20 pm  Leave a Comment  

You Sissies Ain’t Seen Nothin’

So, I guess I was about fourteen when the ninja was in his heyday…

Yeah… what I’m saying is… pretty much every guy fancied himself a martial arts expert of one “style” or another.  You had your karate guys, your kung fu guys, your tae kwan do guys… and, oh yeah, the ninjas.

Well, I liked breakin’ stuff. So I was immediately attracted to the ancient art of smashin’ boards with bare knuckles! Oh, man… I would stack 2… 3… even 4 of those one inch thick babies and crack ’em like saltines!

Pretty soon… I had graduated to ten – TEN – boards baby! Oh yeah… I’m that awesome.

Wouldn’t you know it… never satisfied with the bone crushing pains shooting through my right hand… I soon discovered that I enjoyed immensely destroying these sissy boards… with my forehead.

I soon chose the perfect afternoon to display my new macho-masochistic talents to my buddies. Yes, the wind was perfect, the sun was out… no adults around to stop this potentially hazardous event…

First… the hammerfist smackdown! I stacked my ten boards… breath in … breath out … cocked n loaded … let ‘er rip … annnnddddd … FWAPP!

“Ohhh MANNN! that was AWESOMEEEE!!”, they declared in genuine awe and amazement.

“Yeah? Watch THIS!”, I boasted…  Time for the real deal.. break out the forehead now.. that’s right! Snatching a clean board.. I grasped it firmly with both hands… prepared my “stance”.. and gave it my all.. full speed into this sissy board goes my forehead… andddd… FWAPP!


I know.. right!

“You sissies ain’t seen nothin’!” I snatched another clean board… got my hands just right.. got my special “stance”… and Ram My Forehead… FULL SPEED BABY into this sissy board… anddddddddddddd…

Knocked me out cold.

… I know this because I woke up with my face in the asphalt and both arms pinned under me… and my Buddies??… rollin’ on the ground next to me.

Published in: on May 17, 2010 at 10:51 pm  Leave a Comment  

Say What You Mean to Say

“Politically Correct” Words made up by the media and self-proclaimed spokesmen of the people and politicians to give people identities and a sense of self worth… because they don’t have their own.

“Life Sentence without Parole” Help me understand this one please… why add the “without Parole“?? Look. Either it’s your life in prison… or you’re let out early on parole… but how exactly you get both??

“Cult” Most often misapplied to religions people know absolutely nothing about…

The Cult Information Center states: Every cult can be defined as a group having all of the following 5 characteristics:

1. It uses psychological coercion to recruit, indoctrinate and retain members

2. It forms an elitist totalitarian society

3. Its leader is self-appointed, charismatic, dogmatic, messianic, not accountable

4. It believes ‘the end justifies the means’ in order to solicit funds & recruit

5. Its wealth does not benefit its members or society

Really?‘Cause it sounds like a definition for government.

“Africa” is not a country. It is the second largest continent on the planet.  I have a friend from Liberia… came to this country when he was 18… today he’s a permanent USA resident and still has a thick Liberian accent. So… he’s a full blown African American.

“Let By-gones be By-gones” Just say you’re sorry and move the heck on.

“Co-Conspirator” Yeah, “co-pilot” I’m ok with… ’cause there doesn’t have to be more that one person flying a plane. But “co-conspirator”?? The media loves this word… But by definition there are at least two people involved in a conspiracy… they are conspirators.  Hello?

“Homophobia” An irrational fear of, aversion to, or discrimination against homosexuality or homosexuals. This word is often misapplied. Many simply realize that if everyone were gay… there soon wouldn’t be anyone left to be gay.

“Get Married” Maybe… get a dictionary.  You can, however, “marry someone”, even “be married” or perhaps you are “soon to marry”

“Cops” become such because… drum roll please… they like the feeling of power and authority. Let’s be honest… if you like slamming bad guys to the ground… this is a great outlet. And.. oh yeah!… Civilians who have that Fraternal Order of Police sticker on their car… really are just hoping to get out of a ticket. Don’t be frontin’!

“Correctional Facility” A prison. i.e. A monster factory. In what way are the prisoners “corrected”? Someone please enlighten us as to how exactly a “correctional officer” might go about “correcting” the wrong life courses of the prisoners they are charged with guarding. (please see Politically Correct)

“It’s six in one… half a dozen in the other” Try saying… “Dude, it makes no difference… I really just don’t care, man”.  I can take it… I’m all grown up now.

“What’s that got to do with the price of tea in China” What the heck is wrong with you?? If you can’t understand what the heck we are talking about… please see your way out of the conversation. Thanks.

Published in: on May 17, 2010 at 6:02 am  Leave a Comment  

Not Your Mama’s Meat Loaf


Remember Meat Loaf?

Meat Loaf! The singer. The Bat Out of Hell guy.

Wasn’t he in The Rocky Horror Picture Show too??

Yeah, well that dude sounds like Bob Seger singin’ Broadway show tunes.

Published in: on May 16, 2010 at 9:53 pm  Leave a Comment  

Hey Kids! New Grill!

I just put the new grill together!…

at 10 o’clock at night…

AND I’m gonna grill some ribs…

OMG… How redneck am I?!

Published in: on May 16, 2010 at 2:59 am  Leave a Comment  

Not From Around Here

Make no mistake… there is a huge difference between South Louisiana… and every where else in the world. I know this because I lived there for three long years.

Experiencing the natural beauty of the bayous and wetlands can be the next best thing to standing next to Jesus when he asks for someone to fetch him a red wine latte.

But beneath the worst-service-I’ve-ever-had fast food joints and the Third World roads are some of the most memorable people, many of whom literally would do anything they could to help a neighbor out… and a unique culture than can best be understood by simply just experiencing it. Spend a little quality time down the bayou… and you too may walk away mildly amused with your head cocked curiously to one side mumbling to yourself… “What the heck was that?!”

Some of my first experiences in that place are best expressed this way:

1. Everybody here owns a boat.

2. What’s that smell? And why are those fields on fire?

3. People here have there own language:  “Where he’s goin’?”, “Tell me somethin’ coon-ass… Why you didn’t akss me to come for?”, “Yeah, put sommadat in deyr… it be way mo better dat way!”, “My cousin Claudette… she be pregnant for dat Boudreaux boy… ahhhh-gain”.

4. There are a lot of lesbians here.

5. There are casinos everywhere. (I should explain that a “casino” is a windowless concrete box the size of a four car garage attached to a convenience store… filled with numerous booze-soaked, sad-looking, elderly zombies pulling slot arms in the same stoned robot fashion).

6. There are a lot of Catholics here… which means, for some, Ash Wednesday following, for most, a week of booze induced mistakes – up to and including maxing out the Visa to make sure they have at least $3000 worth of Mardi Gras beads with which to pummel their friends at the parades, (pronounced: PAH-reydz).

7. People like to fish… everywhere… on the side of nearly every road…

8. New Orleans Louis Armstrong airport plays some of the worst music ever known to man… some kind of swamp pop and zydeco… which becomes only barely tolerable as you swig down another offensively bitter Louisiana home brew, known as Abita… for which you paid a modest seven – SEVEN! – bucks.

9. Booze! When the sticky semi-tropical swamp air becomes too much for you city-boy pansies… you can get a banana and mango daiquiri in a cup the size of a 5-gallon paint bucket… [drum roll]… at a drive through window! See, they tape the straw to the top of the cup… and it’s your challenge to stab this flimsy devise through the top of the plastic lid… which is conveniently marked with an X. What an awesome game!

10. When it comes to mayonnaise… People don’t “refrigerate after opening“… and no one dies ??

11. Everyone drinks Community Coffee.

12. Fresh shrimp… is not pink! WHAT! Yeah, it’s gray… and we are talkin’ out of the water… into the boat… into your cooler… into your 30 gallon cook pot with some whole red potatoes, corn, onions, mushrooms, garlic, lemons… and Zatarain’s Shrimp Boil… ohhhhhhhhh mannnn!

13. Egyptian Plague-sized mosquitoes!

14. Nutria. It’s a beaver-rat-like herbivore that lives in the ditches by the side of the road… or anywhere there is water. Uh, Andrew Zimmern visited south Louisiana once… and ate one.

15. And Crawfish boils… are OH SO GOOD!

Published in: on May 15, 2010 at 9:18 pm  Leave a Comment