Don’t Tell Me My Dick is Crooked When It’s Perfectly Straight

I did my least favorite thing in the world yesterday. I went to a new doctor. In the past when I have gone to new doctors, I have always looked at them as these great big ancient buildings like the Colisseum or the Great Sphinx, marvelous and magnificent but crumbling and old.

Well getting older sucks because all my youthful indiscretions about doctors being these relics of the past are becoming fantasy. I had a doctor who actually listened to me and asked questions. One that actually typed fast and knew how to work a computer. She even used a smartphone. I know I should expect this out of people in the world we are in today especially from someone younger than me but I sort of live in my own universe.

I never see anyone out in public paying with their phone. When I use my phone to pay with pretty much anything people look at me in awe or say they do not accept that as payment. Honey, the cash register don’t lie. Look I payed with my phone. I am some kind of Houdini. Not really. I just have loved tech from the day I first even knew such a thing existed.

 

Anyway back to this doctor. The reason I do not see a whole hell of a lot of doctors is because for every one doctor I see am always told to go see about 10 other specialists. Well it is more like about 4 I mean it is only about that many body parts or areas of mine that do not work and mainly that is because I am a fat lazy fuck.

It was just highly amusing being told all this, because being told all this was basically the reason I stopped seeing my last set of doctors. You seemingly have no idea what is wrong with me and then tell me to see about 5 other doctors. Listen… I know I am fucked in the head, have no semblance of time, space and reality… or sentence structures…

or paragraphs.

I know my teeth suck, my eye twitches somewhat, I walk like a Hunchback, I say inappropriate things, have a slightly abnormal heart, and smoke like the Marlboro man. I came for you about my stomach. I mean if you wanted to destroy my prostate I would understand but don’t tell me to stop pissing in the sink when I came to you about the leak in my roof…

Anyway people in general need to stop pretending they can offer you the world or give two shits about every aspect of your being when all they care about is a diagnostic code, a pharmacy refill, and their direct deposit.

Who knows if I go back….the anxiety kills. The pain is still real. I thought about getting high on god knows what for the first time in about 10 years because well you know doctors want to know every drug you ever tried as a teenager. Well goddamn it how about all of them. I was a curious little fucker.

The only reason I am not curious about random drugs now is they haven’t made any good new ones in the past 20 years. Maybe longer. That’s for another hour. Another post. Also well they do have these things called teenagers now too. They are good for new music, friending on social media and looking at the 18/19 famous pretty ones. Never make contact with one in person however as they may and will ask for cigarettes, alcohol purchases, or if they are trying to fuck one of your friends they tend to come down with a massive case of can’t shut the fuckupitis.

Done. For now. No idea…. brain malfunction….

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