“Howdy folks. You have reached Captain Crunch at the Cereal Killer Hotline. I can’t come to the phone right now, as I’ve tripped on a corn flake, landed on my Lucky Charms, and have a Total case of Grape Nuts. But… if you leave a name and number, I’ll get back to you Post Toastie, cuz you’re Special, k? Cheerio!“
That has been on my answering machine or voice mail for the past twenty years. (We got an answering machine about the time of the OJ killings; this recording was actually topical for a while.) Like most sensitive topics, if you make fun of something long enough, it happens to you. Thank the gods it wasn’t payback for all those Lance Armstrong/New Year’s Eve jokes.
I am on medical vacation for a couple weeks. During a routine afternoon at work, I felt a strain. Like most fifty-plus dudes, stuff tends to hurt so you wait and see if it keeps hurting. When things didn’t get better, I followed up with medical attention.
SPOILER ALERT: I live.
So far, anyway. I had inguinal hernia surgery last week, and the shades of purple on my little friend would make the California Raisins horny for youth. I’m moseyin’ around gutshot. I’m not adjusting my gonies ala Michael Jackson anymore. (Seriously, if’n I’d a learnt to moonwalk I’d of been the hit of the Hillbilly Ballroom Dance.) It hurts to cough, but I have pills for that. I have a lot of recovery time; thanks to pre-planning my chores are caught up. The plan is to catch up on some of my writing. I have a desktop full of phone pics reminding me of funny shit I thought up. Most of it weeks ago.
So, between narcotics dosing, herbal supplementing, all the naps associated with such things and the distraction of my new TV, there should be a bit of activity around here the next couple of weeks. As they used to say on my 12″ B&W TV, “Stay tuned for further details…”