Thursday, I went for my yearly boobogram. Ugh! Although, this one wasn’t too awful. Last year, the woman squeezed by boobs so hard that I actually had tears running down my face. Women will know what I am talking about when I say that she managed to get that loose skin right between your boob and your armpit clamped down between the glasses. I think she may have been a dominatrix in her spare time. Only the leather outfit and whip were missing. Painful, to say the least. This year, I tried some redneck marathon boobogram training and I think it helped.

 

 

 

This picture, also, reminds me of one of my Mother’s favorite sayings, “I ain’t laughed so hard so my Mom got her tit caught in the washing machine.” Kinda sad that younger people won’t have a clue what that means. People under 45 or so have most likely never seen a wringer washing machine and sure the heck have never used one.

I did this one every day for the last 3 weeks, too….. It toughened up my boobs really good!

I heard on the news that “Shaft” aka Richard Roundtree  fought and won a battle with breast cancer. But then, he always was a “bad mother…shut your mouth!” Hopefully, this will make men not be afraid of not being macho if they go and have a breast exam. Listen, guys, if Shaft can get breast cancer, anybody can.

(10-28-09 editing to add….saw on the news this morning that the drummer from Kiss, Peter Criss, also, fought breast cancer.)

Check out Jesse Jackson in this video! LMAO

 

 

  

H1N1 (swine flu) really hit home at the  place. About half of the people were wearing mask and the first questions that the registration lady asked me was if I had been around anybody with swine flu. I was surprised and pleased to see the precautions being taken. Some illiterate white trash around here think that “Purell” is something that your wife/husband/kids put you through on a daily basis….”pure ‘ell”. The swine flu vaccine is not available to the general public here. Well, I think it’s not available in many places.

Anyway……Ichecked in and was told to go sit in the waiting room and someone would call my name and register me. The waiting room only  had about 5 people in it. Three were wearing masks and looking at the two of us that didn’t have a mask on with disgust in their eyes. Maybe, their whole faces looked disgusted but all I could see was thier eyes. I noticed that they sat as far away from me and the other woman as possible. I don’t blame them really. Lots of people are becoming really paranoid about the H1N1 virus. So, in order to put them as ease, I decided to go and hunt down a mask but my name was called before I could  find one.   lead down the hall to the X-Ray department to another waiting room.

I had to go pee really bad. I was afraid they’d call me if I went. But, finally, I just had to go!  I went down the hall in search of a rest room. I spotted 2 and went to the first one. Someone was in that one. I went to the next one and somebody was in that one. So, I went back to the first (since it was closest to the x-ray dept. and waited). Noises began coming from behind the locked door. It was a sound of something bumping the door. BUMP! BUMP! BUMP!  By then, I really had to pee. Serious urination time! Just as I was getting ready to hunt down a third bathroom, the door behind #1 opened a couple of inches. I could see a man in a wheel chair was stuck in there. He was cursing a blue streak, using words that my Mama would wash out my mouth with soap for saying. I started to walk off with the urging of the little devil on my right shoulder. But, the little angel on my right shoulder was telling me to help him. I’ve always had a soft spot for elderly people. I looked around for hospital staff to help him but saw no one. So, I figured that I’d do my good deed for the day and rescue him. I went to the door and told him to try to move away from the door a few inches so that I could come in and  help him. I squeezed myself in the bathroom with him and his wheel chair. Now, folks, this was one of those one-holers (a bathroom with one commode) and was rather small. The man, his wheelchair, and myself were really crammed in that little rest room. I told him to put his feet up so that I could move his chair around but soon realized that he couldn’t move his feet by himself. So, being the good Samaritan, I bent down to lift his foot up on the foot rest. And, then the other foot. On the second foot, I realized that the man had no pants on. He only had a sheet spread across his lap. This presented his bare ass just inches from my face. That’s the closest that I’ve ever been to an old man’s ass and I did not relish it.

So, picture this….here we were….me turning the old man (and his nekkid ass) in his wheel chair inch by inch until I finally got him turned around facing the door. All the while, he is cussing and complaining. I believe that he thought that I worked there. Then I had to roll the wheelchair back as far as I could (which was just about a foot) in order to open the door. Meanwhile, I am wondering if they have called me for my mammogram and what am I going to do if they did and I didn’t answer. Would this put other boobs in line in front of my boobs? Would they think that I had left? Holy crapola…how do I get into these messes?????

Finally, I get the door opened and get the old man and his chair (and his nekkid ass) out of the bathroom and into the hall. And, I really have to pee so bad that I feel like I am going to burst and flood the hallway. So, I turn to go back into the bathroom when the old man starts telling me rather loudly that HE IS COLD!

“I’m cold! What’s the matter with you people? I can’t sit here and be cold! I’m cold!”…that’s what he was saying.

So, I decide to try to hold out and not pee all over the place and tell him that I will go find him a blanket. Still, no one anywhere as far as the eye could see up or down the hallway for me to get to help him.

“I have a blanket.”….he said. And,  he did…..the one spread across his lap.

What to do? I had already seen his old man ass and really did not want to see his old man pecker.

I saw that I had no choice and grabbed the blanket from his lap while trying to avert my eyes from his wrinkled (I image, didn’t see it) lil’ pal. I wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and pulled it far enough down to cover his butt. I brought the ends around to the front and told him to hold on to them. Meanwhile, he is still cussing me.

And, I can still hear him complaining as I go into the rest room and finally get to pee. It was one of those times when you have held it so long that it won’t come as first. When it did, I felt soooo much better.

I washed my hands (don’t forget to wash your hands) and peeked out the door. The old man was still sitting there. Thank goodness that I had moved him down from in front of the door. I snuck out of the bathroom as quietly as possible, not wanting to be spotted by the old codger again.

I made my way back to the X-Ray dept. and apparently, God was watching and rewarded me with my name being called just as I started to sit down.

I was soooo glad when all that was over with. I couldn’t wait to go home and just relax and try to get the picture of old dude buttocks out of my head. And, I thank God that I was able to avert seeing his wrinkled (I imagine…didn’t see!) wiener.

I pulled up to my house to a very strange and weird site. The goats were back! And, TPKen was chasing them around the house. I started to laugh and soon was laughing so hard that tears were running down my face. I got myself composed, opened my car door, and got out. This was just in time to see the goats leading TPK on an all out cartoon-type chase around the house. TPK was pissed! He ran in the house and got his gun. This worried me. Not that he would shoot a goat because he can’t hit the broadside of a barn. I was afraid that he would shoot something that would make the bullet ricochet and hit him or the windows.  He ran around to the back of the house where the goats were casually grazing on the roof of our dog house. I heard some shots and was going to find the phone to dial 9-1-1. ‘Bout that time, though, he came in the house.

“Did you shoot a goat?” I asked him (knowing full well that if he did, it was a miracle).

“No, I just shot up in the air to scare them away”, he said.

The next morning, they were back. He, thankfully, was at work. I like the goats. They are fun to watch even if they do chew up dog house roofs, hammocks, etc.

What a day in my WTWM (white trash with money) life. I’m glad that I have the ability to find humor in most things!

  

  

Theme From Shaft lyrics

Who's the black private dick
That's a sex machine to all the chicks?
SHAFT!
Ya damn right! 

Who is the man that would risk his neck
For his brother man?
SHAFT!
Can you dig it? 

Who's the cat that won't cop out
When there's danger all about?
SHAFT!
Right On! 

They say this cat Shaft is a bad mother
SHUT YOUR MOUTH!
I'm talkin' 'bout Shaft.
THEN WE CAN DIG IT! 

He's a complicated man
But no one understands him but his woman
JOHN SHAFT!