Junkie

it's really very exciting. it's a two step process.

1) get health insurance*
2) go to doctor.

anyway. the doctor poked and took some x-rays and played some air guitar and then said, "you've got east indian heart squids"** sounds pretty bad, right? i thought so, so i promptly got depressed and started kicking children. they gave me this ginormous sack full of pills that were big and yellow. they said, possible side effects include: nausea, a yellowing of the skin, infertility and space hives.

i said, "uh. TEMPORARY infertility, right?" they had to check. so very very comforting.

anyway, i got the yellow pills and took them at the rate of one every twelve minutes, hoping i'd get that Asian look and finally be able to check off something besides "caucasian" on those survey forms. although, if i'm going to be honest, i'm really gunning for Pacific Islander. that's got more pizzazz.

just when my far-east dreams were solidifying however, i saw another doctor, a specialist who had an entirely different plan for me and my squids.

he said, what you need to do is shoot yourself.

so i've listened to my doctor. i called the guys who know the guys who can get to the guys who get things done. they sent me a big fedex cooler marked "perishable." to my place of work. everyone walked past the desk to see it sitting there waiting for me so they could joke, "hah hah. is that a lung?"

yes, fucker. it's a lung. i'm getting one a month for at least half a year 'cause i've got an insatiable appetite for lungs. yum! lung! then i would clutch my chest dramatically and scurry off with my cooler, groaning and drooling.

hah hah! now i've got an excuse to stare at people's chests. i'm a lung freak!

actually, my cooler is full of needles and some weird protein shit that i must mix and administer. that's like a promotion! i was an administrative assistant, but now i'm an administrator! go team!

i got trained to shoot myself on friday. i will admit, i was a little heebie-jeebified at the prospect of jamming a needle into my stomach. turns out it's a weensie little needle, though, so it don't hurt none. still, it's kinda fucked up. what if this protein stuff is a gateway drug and i get into heroin now just 'cause i'm no longer afraid of needles? that would suck.

i get to give myself two shots twice a week and i get to store my gear in the fridge. (i have gear! it's like extreme sports!) so it doesn't die, i guess. or go all funny. or get out at night and crawl into bed with us.

i got a sharps disposal kit (basically a big slingshot) and book of info and a videotape i HAD TO WATCH. how quaint! i asked if they had this important info on a 5 1/4 floppy or 8-track because my VCR was in the shop, but no. only on video.

i actually bothed to unpack and setup the VCR so i could watch a video which told me precisely nothing i had not already been told.

today is my first day shooting myself on my own. i think i'll take two in the gut although i'm also allowed to shoot myself in the thigh.

got to feed the squids, though. do not deny them.

i also watched Y Tu Mama Tambien last night with madhavi. i gotta say, i was disappointed. i liked it and all, but i was expecting something less freaky. and the ending was so sad.

(*spoiler alert*)

here is the moral of y tu mama tambien. do not sleep with your best friend, terminal cancer patients, or people who have slept with your mom 'cause that will make you study economics. also, do not try out new sex tricks with your wife or she will know you learned them from some hussy and die of cancer.

tonight our landlords are having us over for dinner. they're so sweet!

*if you need help with step one please send a holographic message hidden in a droid to hillary clinton which says, "help me hillary rc, you're my only hope." and vote for fucks sake.

** not an actual disease. actually a delicacy served with lentils.