Liz shakes her walking stick:
My bud blog friend, Jester, referred to me as Killer's "funny boozy sidekick". I thought about that and, although far from offended, I thought it was a little exaggerated. I mean, me? Boozy?
Then yesterday, as I was puking my guts up, instructing my BFF to call me every hour to make sure my body hadn't shut down, I thought, "You know, I am a little boozy." My marathon puke was all self inflicted unless I can figure out a way to implicate Absolute in my agony. It's all their fault for making such an intoxicating liquid.
Here's where the story gets worse. You know that agony of a real hangover- I mean the rare kind where you are seriously contemplating seeking medical assistance? There I was, truly regretting my over indulgence, when I bent over to pick up a piece of the trail of clothing that was laying on my floor, and I pulled a back muscle. I mean "snap!" Instant agony. Severe shooting pain. Total hunchback lock down.
Normally, I would kill this pain with a couple of shots of something smooth and liquid. I, however, have vowed not to drink anything stronger than Coke for at least a week. Maybe longer. If I knew when Lint was, I would consider giving up alcohol for those 40 days. I think that Saturday night actually took a few months off my life. I need a couple of weeks of clean living to help make up for the binge.
Although I don't think my hangover is related to my back seizure, I do know that this has been one fucked up weekend. I also know that when it takes you almost an hour to get out of bed and every twist you're making hurts like your entire body is having one giant charlie horse spasm, you wish you had a box of adult diapers laying around.
Bed confinement means lots of TV time. The silver lining is that I'll get to catch up on Magnum reruns and, since I'm skipping class Monday night, I'll get to watch Heroes for the first time this season. The storm cloud is that I can't bend enough to wipe my own ass. Killer, this is when I need YOU in town. Your professional experience would really come in handy for me right about now.
6 comments:
Believe me, when I said you were boozy it was a term of endearment.
We should get you one of those toilet-paper-on-a-stick contraptions. Or a bidet. Or a tall ugly dog.
Feel better soon.
In SE Asia they don't usually have toilet paper, but a water hose next to the toilet. Maybe you could stretch the hose in from outside and keep it next to the can.
Or, just stop wiping. You live alone. Who is going to object?
I would be more upset at being a sidekick. Of course, I am boozy.
Thanks, Jester. The tall ugly dog idea disturbs me as much as Killer's suggestion that I just give up wiping my ass altogher.
Mist, being a sidekick is ok. Every now and then Killer will buy me a treat and let me ride in the front seat.
Maybe you could put the butt wiping thing in a personals ad. You might find a really hot guy who's into that kind of thing.
I wish I had a boozy sidekick.
Post a Comment