I Control

I went through so much trouble trying to find a suitable doctor photo on google image search.

You'll receive +10 bonus points if you can tell me who that doctor is.

Anyway, I gulped down a fist-full of pills and went to my team's teambuilding event yesterday. Whirlyball. The cars were slower than the ones back in Chicago and they had more silly rules than I remember. We had two people who had to insist on being THE BEST which was kind of embarrassing.

On the way home I got a call from the on-call doctor returning my call. He said my doc would be glad to order an MRI if I wanted one, also gave me the nod to take another soma at bedtime. Then there was that issue about that thing going on downstairs... I asked the doc about it, said I was going to be straightforward and frank about what was going on and he said he could take it and I told him the deal and, man, he said, "Yeah... that's called 'soiling'."

And I mean really when I think of that word I think of something pretty full on, because you know "soil" means like dirt. I mean I don't need an excavator to tidy up the basement or anything. What is happening to me is super light and there's only a whisper enough there to have me ask what the fuck. He said that there's many degrees of soiling and it sounded like this was a very light degree. But still.

Really now that's two terms that I can think of that I've heard ascribed to myself. Way back as a kid I was overweight and I used to have to buy pants sized "husky." "Husky." I hate that term. "Husky." Oh no I'm not fat, I'm husky... here, look, the tag says husky. And now "soiling."

I mean when I think of the term I think of like crazy folks on the tweek running down the street, collapsing in the gutter and sure as hell, them pants be soiled. I think of really old fo [...]

Artsblog officially lives here: http://www.totesfawes.com