Kibitz ‘n Bits

‘Twas 3 nights before Christmas and I cracked my elbow and broke my ass and here is how it all started….

It was a Thursday night and we were in the midst of a huge snowstorm in Utah.  The deer were out and scouring my yard in search of apples or remnants of a salt lick from days past.  A few hours earlier, I had stopped at the neighborhood grocery store and stocked up on carrots and knobby, maroon colored apples as I knew, if you build it, or rather, if you stockpile it, they (the deer) will come. 

And they did….

At 6:03 pm, I glanced out my living room window to see “Momma”deer and her two does.  I ecstaticly ran to the fridge, loaded my arms up with carrots and headed out my front door where I stopped and briefly waved a carrot.  The deer looked at me with curiosity, and with their ears protruded towards me , seemed to take an interest in what I was waiving overhead. 

I slowly stepped forward, nearing the top of my two-stepped porch, believing that the deer may actually come in close for a bite.  Inch by slow, painful inch, I advanced, all the while, waving the carrot. 

But then “Momma”, suddenly consumed with fear of the strange figure moving closer and erratically waving an orange stick, started to bolt and behind her trailed her two does. 

Me, while not thinking (surprise, surprise) darted out after her, with an armful of carrots in tow, stepped on the top edge of my front porch, slipped on the ice covered step and landed abruptly on my left elbow and ass!  

Stunned at first, I then bellowed for my husband, like a wounded cow who has been struck on the highway, still alive but nearing death and gurgling its last guttural moans. 

Dave arrived to see an image of me, his once lovely and feminine wife, now laying sprawled unattractively in the icy snow.  Carrots dotted the pavement around me and the vocalization of pain sputtered from my mouth. 

As Dave tried to scoop me (and my fat ass) up from the ground, I pleaded that he let me stay lying breathless in the snow.  Apparently, he now argues that I was claiming to be paralyzed while flailing my arms and legs all about so he felt that he needed to get me calm, to the couch and most importantly, medicated with a nice glass of Chardonnay……probably to shut me up. 

The next morning, I awoke to a severely swollen left elbow and a hematoma on my left ass cheek so large that it would put Texas to shame. 

I traveled to the urgent care medical clinic and learned that I had fractured my elbow and broke my tailbone along with the grossly enlarged hematoma (the bruise, not my ass this time) that, per the on-call physician, SHOULD be drained, but given the fact that I am frightened of needles, (and admittedly, somewhat frightened of the doctors that practice out of these so-called “Doc in a Box” clinics) I implored for mercy to not stick anything into my ass and to not bother draining it.  Seriously…….if you think I was going to let someone stick a needle into my left ass cheek to drain blood out of it, you can think again!   

The doctor reluctantly agreed not to drain my ass and sent me home with my arm in a sling, a donut for my ass and a prescription for 12 Darvocet (which are now all gone, by the way). 

So, here I am, writing this blog, sitting on only half an ass (I won’t use the donut – they are ONLY for eating and not for sitting) and trying to type accurately with only one hand…….so forgive me for any typos…………..

And, as we are now rounding the corner into a new year, this time, I venture into it with a body that is 10 years older than it was last week. 

(raising my glass to toast……)  To the deer!

It all started when “Grandma” (my mom) called and asked if Dave and I had a combination VCR/DVD player that she could borrow. We told her, “No” and, now in a state of confusion, hung up the telephone and pondered as to why she would ask. Then it hit me. Upon moving into her new house, she disconnected the VCR in favor of a new DVD player. The fact that she wants retro technology (such as said VCR), can mean only one thing. Grandma misses her porn!

Let me explain, years back, when Dave and I eloped in Las Vegas, we *hit* the local porn store and loaded up on tons of video “gems” that we could smuggle back into Utah, safely hidden within our luggage. In doing this, we also snagged a VHS video of John Holmes, one of the country’s most famous porn star, as a gift to my mom, who has been a single parent for over three decades.

The tape was well received (I imagine, but didn’t inquire as to any details…..) but with the explosion of the DVD era and the demise of video tape, I envisioned that Mr. Holmes (a.k.a., Long Dong John….) was forever entombed in his bed of rectangular cardboard, neatly tucked away and never seen again.

Until now…….

Dave and I found a great website that ships a variety of porn anywhere in the United States. They have all sorts of juicy (and yes, somewhat frightening stuff) that includes anal, lesbo, MILF, midget, transgendered and quadruple penetration (okay……this one we purchased for ourselves in hopes of discovering something new such as WHERE IS THE fourth goddamn hole???).

A few of them (mostly just mellow hetero stuff,) are now en route to our house in hopes that they arrive in time for Christmas delivery to Grandma.

My family and I are at a restaurant recently, having dinner, and we notice another family eating at the table next to us. As we sit there and begin to eat, we notice the *father* was wearing his Blue-tooth headset. I see that he isn’t talking on it but I do see that he occasionally scans the other diners to see if anyone is noticing “how important” he is (or rather ‘feels’ that he is) and that he is The Stud of this restaurant. Funny……

He is Soooooooo important that he needs to wear a damn headset throughout an entire meal with his family. For hell’s sake, if you are waiting for a call that is THAT important, just place your friggin’ cell phone on the table and lose the fuckin’ headset. Don’t be an arrogant moron!

I don’t understand why these people think they are so cool with those things on anyway; after all, it looked like the $30 Costco model so it wasn’t anything special (piece of shit). In fact, I have a damn Dolce & Gabbana Motorola headset. It’s gold…….ooooohhhhhhh. But you don’t see me wearing it everywhere, why… because it’s stupid!

I have even noticed men, never women, sitting on an airplane in First Class (yep, on occasion, I too get to fly First Class given all of the business trips I go on)wearing their fancy-pants Blue-tooth headsets. Okay, for fucks sake, we are on a 4 hour and 38 minute hop from Salt Lake City to Boston. What fucking call do you think you are going to get in mid-air? Aren’t cell phones supposed to be turned off? Isn’t your ear beginning to ache? The thing must be surgically attached otherwise no one would be stupid enough to wear a headset during an entire flight. Or maybe their ear has simply fused to the appliance because it’s always on……I don’t know. I can only imagine that they probably ALSO wear it in bed, in the shower, on the shitter…..

But for hell’s sake, at least lose the goddamn Blue-tooth while you are masturbating or, (for those of you who somehow manage to get somebody else in bed) lose the phone while you are having sex! NO FRIGGIN’ CALLis that important and I don’t ever want to be the unlucky bastard who rings while you are playing with something OTHER than your goddamn headset!

Are podiatrists all money hungry quacks that are desperate for any dime they can extract?

I recently went to a podiatrist for a possible foot fracture. After having two x-rays, it was determined that my foot is fine EXCEPT for the fact that it was previously mutilated by a different podiatrist, 22 years earlier, and that it is severely misshapen and full of arthritis.

My foot was wrapped and I was sent on my way with verbal instructions to hot pack it for the rest of the evening.

A few days later, I thought it would be interesting to look at my x-ray in detail and show my husband the carnage of a “wrong-doing” podiatrist from years past. To make a long story short, when I was in junior high, I had bone spurs on both of my heels. I was referred to a “quack” podiatrist who ended up performing the WRONG surgery on both of my feet. I then had to see yet another podiatrist for two reconstructive surgeries in a desperate attempt to repair the damage. The arthritis began, and now that I am in my 30′s, the nagging pain grows with each season.

Because I wanted a copy of this recent x-ray, I called up the new podiatrist (now referred to as Dr. Brown), spoke with his assistant and kindly asked if I could get a copy. Hell, he just billed my insurance $293 for a 10 minute office visit, two x-rays and a verbal script to hot pack my foot when I get home so I figured I wasn’t asking for anything absurd?!

I just wanted a copy of my x-ray to keep as a memento of “Foot Surgery Gone Bad.”

Dr. Brown’s assistant hemmed and hawed and when I repeated my question, she balked, “It may cost you!” Okay…..how MUCH will it cost me? She put me on hold and after falling into a zombie like trance from the Muzak that played, she returned and abruptly told me yes, they will make me a copy of my x-ray but I will need to drive in and pick it up. I said, “No problem, I will pick it up next Monday evening.”

Today was Wednesday……

Friday morning, Dr. Brown’s assistant called my home and left a stern voicemail stating that I REALLY need to come pick up my x-ray and that it is going to be TEN DOLLARS! I called her back and told her thank you for copying the x-ray for me and that, again, I will be in on MONDAY evening to pick it up. She then inquired as to which location I planned on “meeting her and Dr. Brown at” and that I needed to make sure I bring “the cash“.

OOOKKAAAYY…….. Weird.

I told her that I planned on going to the office of which I saw him at, not to far from my home. She barked stating that he is only at that office on Tuesday’s! Well jesus fucking christ, how do I know that Mr. Foot DR CHEAP ASS practices out of more than one office location. She then ordered me to send in a check, made out to Dr. Brown, in the amount of TEN DOLLARS, and to get it in the mail TODAY and they would release the x-ray.

WHAT??!! At this point, I didn’t fuckin’ care if I got the x-ray or not. It’s not that friggin’ important. I think Dr. Brown and his assistant have spent more of their time, energy and resources worrying about how and when they are going to get my goddamn $10 that they are now in a deficit and should have just mailed me a courtesy copy FREE OF CHARGE!!!! It could have saved them $50 bucks!

At this point, I explained to the bitchy assistant that I will pick up the goddamn x-ray sometime on Tuesday afternoon when Dr. Brown is at the office location close to me and that I would drop them off the $10 fucking dollars when I got the x-ray IN HAND. She scoffed (surprise, surprise) and said that he was only there until 1:30. Okay, can’t I just write a friggin check and leave it with the front office staff? I guess not…….and after being put on hold and subject to more Muzak torture, the crabby ass assistant returned to say that I must WRITE A CHECK, make it out to Dr. Brown, place in an envelope with HIS name on it and leave it with the office staff when I picked up the x-ray. I agreed.

Later that night, I pondered why in the hell TEN DOLLARS is so goddamn important to him? I think between Dr. Brown and Igor, ooops, er, I mean his assistant, they have wasted over $50 bucks harassing me and trying to coordinate when/where I pick up the x-ray.

It’s not fucking gold for Pete’s sake…………just a picture of an ugly foot dressed in arthritis.

Today is now Saturday, and the nightmares of podiatrists both current and past will haunt me until Tuesday night when I wrap my grimy little fingers around the x-Ray that is now worth more to me than a kilo of COKE.

I hear “GIVE ME MY TEN DOLLARS” over and over again as I drift off to sleep every night……….