Thursday, July 27

You're Sick, Dude.

I'm Sick, Dude.

I'm sick, dude. As you may remember, I tweaked my back some time ago.

"When was that?"

Oh, I don't know, about a weak back. Damn, that's funny.

Anyways, it's slowly healing and I've been taking proper precautions as to not obliterate it again. As someone who likes to stand, walk and handle a fork without assistance, I'm doing what I can to make sure I maintain that sort of lavish lifestyle.

However, I'm no Superman (insert your own Christopher Reeve joke here). In fact, I'm a bit of a crybaby. When the Missus has a migraine or the cat has a kidney stone, you don't hear them blubbering (well, the cat screams like hell, but that's understandable). Yet, put me in the slightest amount of discomfort, and I transform into the exact handicapped loser I'm trying to avoid. Pretending not to be hurt was never one of my strong points; I'm bawling in every photo of me that hasn't been posted on this page.

The reason I bring this up is because I've been benched all week with some sort of mystery illness. I don't know what it is, but it's not helping my back any and I feel even more worthless than normal. If you're in the mood for an armchair diagnosis, here are my symptoms:

1. My throat's closed up, I can't breathe very well, and my voice is completely shot. I sound like I'm talking through one of those electric-box things they give to folks with lung cancer. Always making the most of a bad situation, I've been working hard on taking my Mr. T impression to the next level. I've also started a Death Metal band that I'm fronting called GoreRock. My growls are top-notch, and with said illness, I can vomit at will on stage.

2. Every morning without fail, I feel like I've been punched awake. I ache all day, almost as if I got up in the middle of the night and unconsciously participated in a Golden Gloves tournament.

As a side note, wouldn't that be cool? I'd just wake up in the morning with a trophy on my table. In the sports section, there would be a photo of me in the ring with my pajamas bottoms on. This is very funny to me for some reason; specifically if I won my matches.

3. Every time I blink, I crap my pants.

I'm stumped.

I'm sure it's just a bug going around (I have been making out with more strangers lately), but I'm concerned because I'm officiating a wedding this weekend. This is supposed to be the best day of the happy couple's lives; they don't need me up there, high on cough medicine and gurgling like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. I also don't want my sexy Reverend outfit to go to waste. It's all held together with velcro, so I can use it to strip during the bachelorette party the night before. It's all very sacrilegious. Or sacri-licious, depending on your views.

Song of choice? It's Raining Men.

Another thing that greatly hinders recovery is my refusal to take medication. I try to avoid anything that alters my body's natural ability to heal itself, besides all the liquor and cheap Afghani heroin. I hate trying to function when I'm jacked-up on meds, so I decided a long time ago that feeling sick was far better than feeling loopy. Sick I can handle. Sick is real. Loopy is not real and it allows you to pretend your not sick. I've never been a fan of fiction, buddy.

By the way, feel free to work the term "Afghani heroin" into your day-to-day conversations. The above paragraph existed solely to use that in a sentence.

As I mentioned before, me and the Missus will be heading back to our hometown this weekend for my uncle and future aunt's wedding. From what I can gather, they really liked the ceremony script I sent them, which made me exceedingly happy. I had never written a wedding service before, so I was mapping a lot of uncharted territory. Now, all I have to do is read it aloud without passing out or 'yodeling groceries.'

You can steal 'yodeling groceries,' too. I know you're going to anyways.

The next time we talk, I'll have my first wedding ceremony under my belt. I'll share pictures and tell you all about it, like a family. Sound off in the comments section and tell me to drink plenty of fluids.

Comments:
Get better, there are no back up reverands!
 
I know how fast you can talk and I want to experience some of that speed during the ceremony. It is supposed to be ninety-five degrees and I do not want to spend any more time than is necessary with the crotch of my dungarees between my knees.
 
Don't get me started!
 
Who plans a outdoor wedding in July anyway?? Unless of course you have no choice, like people living on the equator. I can't take the heat that well; my ankles swell up and I can't dance. I will probably be suffering from heat stroke after having to set up those canopys on Thursday too. But nobody cares about that, do they? Are the Beach Boys playing for this wedding? I don't know who else you would get to play in this climate. I don't feel so good.
 
Again, don't get me started...especially in public.
 
I hear you. Perhaps we can do the wedding under the canopy, to prevent passing-outings.

If I don't start feeling better, we're going to have a sad state of affairs on our hands come Saturday. I'm going over the script again tonight to make sure it's just the way it should be.
 
Sacri-licious, indeed.

As for your mystery illness, it sounds to me like you've got the clap.

I'm no meteorologist, but I do play one on TV.
 
The clap? Crap.

The Missus is going to be furious.

Just to update, I'm feeling a lot better, although my throat is still raw. I should be as close to 100% as possible come Saturday. Thanks for all the prayers and candlelight vigils.
 
If you're feeling better, does it mean you're not going to be the frontman for my death metal ukelele band?
 
Well, my vocal chords are still shredded, so I can still lay down a mean growl. I won't be able to vomit at will, though.
 
There goes all the fun for the wedding reception...
 
I'm still strippin'.
 
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
 
Give me ice cream, and I can vomit at will.
 
I vomit at the very mention of another Kevin Smith film.

Now all the faux-indie kids will be mad at me.
 
I vomit at the very mention of another Kevin Smith film.

No kidding. He should have quit while he was ahead.
 
Here's a quick wedding update for you.

It's 9am on Saturday morning, and we're slowing getting things in gear for the 4pm start time. I was at the location of the wedding for a couple hours last night (until almost midnight, actually), scoping the place out, rehearsing and having some drinks with the wedding party.

We should have close to 120 people and the backyard in question is simply beautiful. Everyone has put a tremendous amount of work into this thing; all I have to do is not ruin it. Expect photos and sweatiness to follow early next week.
 
I hope that everything went well! I would've paid to see you do the wedding ceremony by the way. It's just too funny; I can't even put it into words. I have my own mystery illness, well mystery pain anyway. I've had it for two years and my psychologist gave me the assignment of going to see the doctor about it. I'll write a lengthy story about on my page in a few days. Check it out!
 
Oooh, mystery pain! I'm all ears.

I'll give you the full story on the wedding ASAP.
 

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