Funky Cold Medina was playing while they did my recent biopsy. I mentioned it to the doctor, who said they have an interesting selection of music there. I mean, Funky Cold Medina. Is this really how I want to thin out in this life, to Funky Cold Medina? Speaking of which, is anyone keeping track of the songs I said I want played at my funeral--or when I die, is one of you going to have to comb through all these posts and find them?
Before the doctor came in, and I was sitting nervously on the table, they also played The Girl is Mine, with Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney. Remember that song? The two of them are fighting over a woman. What woman, in the history of all that is holy, would pick Michael Jackson if she had Paul McCartney as her other selection? Even 1983, still-black Michael Jackson.
Do you know anyone like that? Anyone who made some kind of change in life that you don't regularly see, and you have to qualify? Like, my Uncle Leo enjoyed him the ladies until he was middle-aged, then he became a serious homosexual person. So you have to qualify it, sometimes. "Back when Uncle Leo liked women..."
"Back when my friend Paula had two boobs..."
My friend Charlie, who is in a wheelchair now, calls it when he was tall. "Do you remember that time, when I was still tall, that we...?"
For some reason, clarifications like that always make me giggle.
Anyway, of course there were other things I've forgotten to tell you and of course now I've forgotten them again. I DO have a sinus infection and the doctor gave me antibiotics, which I just took on an empty stomach and now I feel peaked.
I had better go, as it is time for work, and both dogs are up here eating my toast and if Ned were home, dog heads would roll, as would mine, and I am seeing just a big ball of hair rolling down my hallway. The good news is that now I don't have to wash this plate where my toast was. Looks good as new.
Oh my god now I am so late. But at least I took time to write this riveting post. You're welcome.
XO,
Joon
P.S. We all go around thinking Flashdance was such a charming movie, when really it's about a grown man screwing his 18-year-old employee. That's something I forgot to tell you since 1984.
