DON’T GO TO THE HOSPITAL
The only reason hospitals exist is so nurses can laugh at your penis. Don’t give those self-righteous fucks the pleasure. You’re an American, and so the only people who can laugh at your penis are our brave veterans. Plus, you’re an American and so you don’t have health insurance.
QUANTIFY YOUR DISCOMFORT
What kind of pain we talking about here, muchacho? Does it radiate from the shoulder? Icy waves of thick agony coming up from the wrist? Did you maybe jam a bread knife into your tricep? Is a very heavy lady sitting on the arm? Was it crushed by a garbage scow? These are questions that medical professionals will ask you after they’ve finished laughing at your penis.
BOWL ANOTHER NUMBER FOR THE ROAD
Have you been bowling for 36-48 hours straight? Cuz that’ll do it.
LEFT IS NOT RIGHT
Are you sure it’s your left arm?
NEVER RULE OUT AIDS
Let’s be honest: it’s probably AIDS. On the bright side, those 15 pounds you’ve gained during quarantine are gonna slide right off.
SUBLIMATION: GOING DOWN, DOWN
Perhaps–and I’m just spitballing here–your obdurate and unlearned resistance to caring for your mental health, along with the dangerous and stupid belief you have that “men” should “suck it up” has resulted in your poor brain calling an audible and rerouting your anxiety and semi-crazed terror into something it knows you will deal with, namely physical pain. Just spitballing, though.
GOBBLER TWINS TALK YA INTA JERKIN’ ‘EM OFF AGAIN, FUCKWIT?
Goddammit, Johnny Earl, I walk into this trailer one more time and find you double-fisting those satanic clones, and I’m leavin’. There’s other fish in the sea, an’ most o’ them fish draw the line at happy-handin’ an entire family at once. I don’t care that they brought beer, Johnny Earl. I bring you beer, Johnny Earl, and most o’ the time you just wanna slap your limpy ‘gainst my neck while Steve Harvey’s on the teevee. I agree the mans’s got some wonderful suits, but it don’t mean I cotton t’ being schlong-whomped on my tracheal area. Ain’t nothin’ you do lately that’s even a tiny bit natural, Johnny Earl. Devil’s got a hold o’ your nethers, boy.
Why don’t you go to the hospital?
Because I’m polite.
What?
If I die now, then no one has to travel for the funeral. We can do it on Zoom.
And still no one would show up.
I’ll be fine. I have a plan.
Is it to drink nine or ten beers while listening to Bruce Springsteen?
And I’m also gonna finish off the ribs in the fridge.
Move over, Dr. Fauci.
Sending good vibes, ToTD. Hope you’re back to 100% or thereabouts soon.
I wouldn’t go to your funeral, but I sure would be sad.
Don’t die until Monday – it’s that dumb Star Wars Day.
Did you? Fuck. Is this another of those thinly-veiled whatchamacall’ems? Damn. I’ll echo the public service message of this post, which is a complex one: you think you might, then go to the ER! If it’s nothing, it takes 15 minutes to find that out, and you’re just left with the light sting of whinger-with-a-little-dick status. If it’s something, you live to reevaluate your entire life – no guarantees about the result of that exercise, but better to have the opportunity to grind through it than not. While I have damn little authority w/r/t anything Dead – I just the books, Mister, I don’t write ’em – I’m sixteen months past a shocker MI at age 45, so trust me on the hospital thing. I waited around til I could barely drive myself to the ER, and while I lived – ‘evidently’, I hear the snide among you comment – I’m left with the proverbial crab apple of, uh, throbbing gristle where my heart’s supposed to be.
I don’t know what’s worse: that I automatically know that “MI” refers to myocardial infarction and also what it is, or that my very first ever ToTD reply in the comments section is posting this bit of knowledge…Congratulations STEMI Lee, btw on “surviving” your MI at age 45; my mother didn’t survive hers (one & only) at age 52, which just happens to be my age this year…TotD & Pandemic 2020!*: Bringing Out The Best In All of Us!
*Why has no local/national newscast promoted it this way with an accompanying eye-catching on-screen graphic, like “Election 2020!” or when there’s the storm season’s first major weather event, eg., “First Strike 2020!”