First of all, I want to say to the 12 to 15 people who know me in real life who contacted me to either express their concern or to just blatantly try to find out what was wrong with me the other day, thank you very much. I know that I could have called any one of you to discuss my plight if I had wanted to.
If I had wannnnnnnnnted toooooooooooooooo.
But again, thank you.
Speaking of plights, when I went to see my friend Charlie the other day, I was on the phone with my mother on the drive over. So yes, I was that asshole on her cell phone in the car. Up next, texting while I'm just as high as a kite. "I'm on my way to see Charlie," I told her. "Remember? My friend who got paralyzed?"
"Oh, I do remember him. Be sure to ask him how he's doing while you're there."
See. I don't guess it's easy to get out of the my-child-is-a-helpless-kitten mode, because she says stuff like that all the time. "Well, mom, I'd better hang up. I have to go to work."
"Did you remember to put on pants?"
So I got to Chas's apartment and knocked on the door. There he was, in his fancy chair, and he seemed a little tired. "How are you doing?" I asked, having remembered to wear pants. "Are you in pain?" Turns out, not only do you get to be paralyzed when you're paralyzed, you also get to feel pain.
"Yeah, I am," he said.
"Are you taking stuff for it?" Don't you hate people who do that? Oh, thanks, June! Wow! Maybe I could TAKE STUFF for this pain! Hadn't thought about it in the eight months I've had to sit here! Say, June, have you tried Excedrin Migraine?
"Yes, but I won't bore you with the details of my meds," said Charlie.
"Are you in a cranky mood?" I asked, because he seemed like he might be.
"No," he said, "but I COULD get cranky, because you just walked in and started asking all about my pain and misery and I'd rather have fun," he said.
"Oh, good gravy. Does everyone come in here and stampede to the topic of your ailments?" I asked.
Apparently they do. MOM.
Somehow it already got late and I have to go shower and then walk into work naked from the waist down like a Centaur. Ned might possibly Nedflix for us that horrific movie we saw yesterday, about the nuns and the devil and the Romania and even a moment of nun-on-girl action. So be sure to tune in for that, should it happen, because good? Good movie? Wow.
This picture of Ned with the wagon wheel naturally reminds me of When Harry Met Sally, and what doesn't? You're gonna go six rounds over this stupid wagon wheel Roy Rogers' garage sale boyfriend. Is that a wagon wheel or more a ship thingie?
Wheel. That's the technical phrase I was looking for. The wheel of a ship. I guess it is, because the spoke-y things go outside, and what kind of ludicrous wagon are you DRIVING? Crap. So forget it about my funny wagon wheel joke.
I guess technically centaurs are all-the-way naked, aren't they? Whatever.
June. Hoofing it.