Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Two holes for Dr. Seltzer

Well the time has come for the dreaded colonoscopy with an endoscopy on the side.  52 years old and finally time to get knocked out and violated by a guy that looks like he is 12 ala Doogie Howser.  Step 1 take 4 ducolax.  Now ducolax is equivalent to placing a dynamite charge in your ass with a delayed fuse, that when lit will begin with some rumbling, tumbling, bumbling,  and crumbling .....I just took the dynamite and will get back to you on ignition. The time is 2pm, I'm on the edge of my seat with anticipation.
4pm : 2 turds offered up to the porcelin god, poor showing overall.
6pm: Prep start, gatorade lime with a powder keg of Miralax, some sort of miricle substance that forces you to shit out things you ate when you were six that may still be stuck in a fold of your colon. Pound down 16 oz of that, not terrible, feeling good.
7pm: Nothing, drink another 16 oz, bloated feel like hurling, lime gatorade blows.
8pm: Explosion #1, loud and proud, with Alex outside the door telling me how gross I sound.  Thank God for the IPAD, I have something to do while I purge my childhood penut butter sandwiches from the nether regions. Another 8 oz, lime gatorade officially tastes like shit.
9pm: Oh help me Jesus, there is a direct connection between my mouth and my ass.  I drink and it shoots out my ass, I have a leak. Im dying, Patty is laughing so I pay her back by leaving the bathroom door open.  I standup just to sit down again, I cant walk 2 feet without nearly shitting my pants, another 8 oz, F**K this shit, lime gatorade is toxic waste, I throw out the last 8oz.  If Dr, Seltzer cant see screw him, I have a water faucet in my ass and its stuck open.
11pm: Tired my ass hurts my stomach is so bloated I feel like I could try out for the Biggest Loser.  Gonna try and sleep without shitting myself.
1am: Spring out of bed nearly did a sleep shart, my shit has no color except a tint of lime which suggests the gatorade is not even being digested just falling out my hole.
Back to bed, to tired to get up again so I resign myself to shitting the bed if necessary.
9am:  Made it thru the night, sit down to check if there can possibly anymore crap cause I dont want to shart in the waiting room.  I pretty sure Im empty because everytime I take a deep breath my ass whistles.
1030: Into the room, more like a closet, with a stretcher that looks like it was stolen off the set of One Flew Over The Cookoos Nest. Me and the Nurse Anesthesis chit chat over death rates in rooms such as these and if he has killed anyone recently.  Seriously he was great.  Dr Doogie arrives we chat about the procedure, he will scope my esophagus prior to my ass otherwise I will have a gatorade shit taste forever.  He jokes that he only drank a little wine with some xanax last night but stayed at a Holiday Inn Express so he is sure he can pull the procedure off.  The last thing I remember is the words "see you soon" .
1130: Woke up with a nurse staring at me and Patty sitting in a chair.  The nurse encourages me to fart proudly to get rid of the gas, it was life changing let em rip without worrying who is gonna hear you.  Doogie came in showed me some pics said my holes are fine see me in 3 years.
12:00 Off to StarBucks for a coffee, still ripping farts to my glee, Patty looks disgusted. 
1205: Fired a wet fart in my shorts
1210: Patty is still laughing
I hate Gatorade
I still hate Gatorade

Wednesday, January 2, 2013


Well its been awhile so at my mothers urging to blog i suppose its time for an update.  Abby is 16 and driving, not doing badly unless one desires to get somewhere quickly.  The other day we were passed by a senior walking group and some dude in a wheelchair who kindly flipped us off and told us to move to the right. She is getting better at changing lanes, not just aimlessly drifting from side to side, leaving rows of cars behind her askew in the grass. Now a junior in highschool doing well, still playing softball, writing frightening (no disturbing) stories about shit I cant even imagine, but very talented just the same.  Now I have an idea why Steven King's parents were medicated. 
Alex is 12 going on 30, the social butterfly who can fart like a sailor and lie about it with a straight face.  She has at least 60 friends and invites them over 7 at atime for sleep overs.  There are times when she isnt home for 3-4 days because she is at friends houses...hopefully bombing them with her scent.  She is bright, doing very well in school, and excelling as a softball pitcher (45mph fastball, deadly changeup and drop). 
Becca is 10 and her favorite food is anything that isnt nailed down.  I believe she is gonna be a foodie, eating champion, or a pastry chef (probably the latter).  She will get up at the crack of dawn to make cupcakes for school, leaving the kitchen like a flour bomb exploded for Patty to clean up, and say "I forgot".  Becca has also embarked on a softball career as a catcher and sports a pretty good arm when she isnt getting knocked over by Alex's fastball.
Billy, yes the commando, still likes "forgetting" to put on his underwear, especially at night and still doesnt know what a "test fart" is as evidenced by the shit streaks in his underwear when he actually wears them.  He is full of energy and a handful at school.  I had the pleasure of meeting his first grade teacher, who looked weary, and she showed me his desk which was placed right in front of her desk.  He misses recess alot due to having wars with his hands (Spiderman vs DocOc or something) rather than doing his work (I told Patty not to worry, the Nuns at Sared Heart used to smash me over the head with books and rulers for the same shit and i turned out ok).  He has a great imagination and some of the greatest excuses"Why were you bad in school William?" Dad it wasnt my fault, it was these jeans, they make me be bad.  As for sports, so far he excells in web shooting, likes soccer but girls keep running past him and scoring, and his football career was shortened because he would just walk off the field randomly for a rest and water break.
Patty is a saint, married to me for 20 years, taking care of them kids keeping a house and now taking care of a friends mom who is dare I say forgetful (no its not me). When Patty comes home she mutters alot, like "unbelievable" "I just dont get it" and "I give up you slobs" and her favorite "Calgon take me away and get me some wine".  She is a great wife and mom and is busier than me and I have 3 jobs.
Me...well its 3 jobs to keep it going and their are times I wanna jump off the fiscal cliff with all of the Senate and Congress tied to my leg.  My wrinkles have wrinkles, things are hanging, (my balls get wet when I crap) my eye twitches and I have lumps.  My doctor insists I get scoped "everywhere" so at the end of the month I get hosed up and down and hopefully they dont put it in my ass first. The kids ask me for homework help and I tell them I didnt learn that in school to ask their mother, i take naps, and my shampoo bottle has lasted me 6 months and its still a third of the way full, I dont need a comb.  Overall, while feeling my age a little more every year as evidenced by loose skin, jowls, and age specific tests, I am blessed with 4 great kids, a wife who loves me, a mother who is still a loving mother who looks out for her 52 yo elastic son. 
There you have it....update complete