After minutes and minutes browsing the World Wide Web coupled with my experience playing doctor as a child, I have determined that I have gynencephaherpalitis. That’s right…it’s full blown and apparently not getting better on its own. Don’t cry for me though friends. My affairs are in order and if the worst should happen, I have entrusted my son with my prize booger collection and all of my cigar rings. It’s my poor wife I worry about…how could she possibly go on with out me?! I am that amazing. No doubt, the pain would be too great…oh, please watch out for her dear friends…
Ok…hold on…not ready for that yet (I hope). I went to the doc last Friday and was fully stocked up with medicines and salves and elixirs. I tried incantatory chants and even sang a little Barry Manilow hoping to get this junk to go away. It was all to no avail. I called the doc again and she said if I wasn’t on the upswing by today that she would get me in for a chest x-ray and a high colonic (for good measure).
Don’t worry…I’ll take pictures