Hello Surf Reporters! I hope your holiday week was pleasant. I had four days off in a row, and accomplished quite a bit. Also, I got to spend some time with my family — all at once. Usually it’s piecemeal, a person here and a person there, but on Wednesday we were all home together. It was nice for me, but I got the feeling it was little too much Jeff for everyone else. Oh well.
This morning, around 8 a.m., our dog Andy (aka The Finest Example) cut loose with a wild barking jag, and I heard someone knocking on the front door. What the hell, man? I worked last night, and was sleeping. Eight in the morning to me, is like 4 a.m. to regular human beings. What kind of lunatic was banging on our door at that hour??
I made an executive decision to ignore it. Eventually they’d go away, I knew. And they did. Probably just religious fanatics, I thought, and repositioned myself on the platform, planning to get a couple more hours of shut-eye.
Then I heard the heavy machinery crank up. The earth shook, and there was a godawful pounding. And it sounded like it was coming from our front yard. Shit! I sprang from the bed, and ran downstairs in my underwear and mustard-yellow “chick magnet” t-shirt.
The entire street in front of our house was filled with dump trucks, and various digging and pushing apparatus. And some guy with a cig dangling was creating a deep hole in the pavement, directly in front of our driveway. How was I supposed to get my car out?? I was trapped. Then I realized: they’d tried to give me a chance to move it, and I’d ignored them.
I pulled on some shorts, and went out there, anyway. And they allowed me to thread the needle backwards, between a deep hole and a telephone pole. But my car is down the street now, and my harrowing three minutes of imprisonment is over. It was a dark time, my friends… I’d rather not talk about it.
Four and a half hours of sleep is going to become a problem, though. I’m running on coffee energy now, but it’s gonna be a long day. Thanks, cig-dangling digger men! Thanks a whole hell of a lot.
On Friday I returned to the doctor, for the third time in three months. I hadn’t gone in ten years, and now I’m a regular. See how these things go? At first I thought I was doing the responsible thing, but now I’m starting to feel like a sucker.
I had an 11:45 appointment, and arrived five minutes early. I put my name on the check-in sheet, sighed with sadness, and took a seat amongst the Korean War veterans who were surrounded by scaffolding with tennis balls on the bottom.
Two people were talking politics in there, and shoveling the cliches and stereotypes as fast as their mouths could go. One was a young guy, in a ludicrous sweatsuit, and I instantly disliked him. He had an air of cockiness about him, and seemed oh so pleased with himself. Plus, he was wrong about everything, and completely predictable. I tried to make one of his chair legs collapse by concentrating my thoughts on it, but it didn’t work.
They finally allowed me to move to the exam room, about a half-hour into it, and the nurse checked my blood pressure. Despite the presence of Mr. Meet the Press out there, it was perfect — right in the sweet spot of where they want it to be.
Then I waited, and waited. And waited some more. I could hear old people talking through the walls, about their great-grandchildren, and their late husband Cyrus, or whatever. An hour and forty minutes passed between the time I signed in, and when I finally saw the doctor.
And by that time I was whipped into a full-on frenzy, and my BP was high when he checked it. He was confused, but I wasn’t. “I’ve been here almost two hours,” I said. “I’m a blood pressure patient, and have been sitting on this crinkly paper for a good part of the day. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy!”
He never apologized, I noticed. He just said, “Well, the second reading is explainable. I’m not going to change anything. Just keep taking the pills every day, and I’ll see you back here in three months. Call me if you start feeling dizzy, or anything like that.”
And that was the extent of it. I was there almost two hours, and was with the doctor for roughly three minutes. Maybe two. AND I got to write them a check for $25 on my way out the door. Simply excellent.
Nancy and her exotic children were here twice during the past few days, but I never saw them. She was reportedly in the mood to talk about her pending divorce, though — and nothing else.
Here are some quick highlights:
- The reason Nostrils cheated on her is because she’s such a strong and powerful woman, he couldn’t handle it anymore.
- She’s so good in bed he had to find a young inexperienced girl, so he could be the dominate one, for a change.
- She wants to start dating immediately, because she NEEDS sex daily, but believes she’ll intimidate men because she’s so intelligent, accomplished, and hot.
- All men are imbeciles, and marriages that actually work are deeply flawed. The woman, in almost every case, has forfeited her soul.
Also, she tried to stir up trouble between Toney and me. She started multiple sentences with, “But don’t you feel resentful about…” Fill in the blank. I guess she’d spent the previous four days in Canada, drinking wine with other divorced women, and criticizing men. She didn’t care for Toney’s lack of enthusiasm on that front.
But, we’ll be seeing her a lot now. I guarantee it. Whenever there’s upheaval in her life, she goes on the move. She’ll be up here once a month, I predict. You know, saying that all men are stupid in front of her three sons. Stay tuned.
I’ll be back tomorrow, my friends. We’re returning to the old way of doing things around here. There was way too much downtime; I was starting to feel all itchy and weird.
Have a great day!
Now playing in the bunker
Treat yourself at Amazon: US and Canada
Hello, it’s nice for you to see me.
Was it a waterline break?
I was talking to someone the other day about how the streets use to get oiled in the summertime. They thought I was making that up.
I too must have sex at least once a day!
3rd
Had you told your doc you were feeling all itchy and weird he might have given you a little more time, or at least prescribed some oinkment.
jtb
You mentioned that Nancy tends to insult men in front of her three sons: I thought that she only had two sons now after her son Robbie died last month.
?
“Starring Fred MacMurry…”
…and William Demarest as Uncle Charlie!
TERIFFIC! Now that theme song is stuck in my li’l punkin’ head!
…and William Demarest as Uncle Charley!
TERIFFIC! Now that theme song is stuck in my li’l punkin’ head!
Mine too, but it’s a pleasant stuck. When I wake up at 3:00 AM and it’s still playing I’ll be punching pillows.
I thought I’d miss Nostrils, but I didn’t stop to think that Nancy would more than make up for his absence with her own ratcheted-up craziness.
I don’t see Nostrils leaving as a real life divorce….it’s more like a cast change in a TV show. Like when Col. Blake’s plane went down.
I will miss Nostrils and secretly hope he is seeking out his TRUE LOVE Johnny Depp …. *sigh*
Or Carl rapapport.
Godspeed to Lieutenant Commander Quinton McHale. May you always sail in Nip-free waters.
jtb
I can’t believe the cig dangling diggers didn’t give you a little more notice than banging on the door Monday morning? I would think a flyer dropped in your mailbox the week before would have been nice. Then again, maybe it was a water main break and an emergency repair.
Holiday week? This cat wasn’t smart enough to schedule vacations days for Thursday and Friday, so my holiday week had two Mondays (boo) and two Fridays. Also it was pretty fucking hot all week, except Sunday when it only got to 88, which felt very pleasant.
Hey at least you got your moneys worth at the doctors office, 2 hrs/$25= $12.50 an hour, seems pretty reasonable.
All men are imbeciles, thanks for the update Ms. Obvious!
My gyno kept me waiting for over an hour to the point where I kicked the examining table and yelled “FUCK really loud. I know he heard because in seconds he was in the room. I said “You have the upper hand since I’m sitting here in a paper dress but after waiting for over an hour, I’m considering looking for another doctor.”
Never happened again.
I don’t like being ruushed by my doctors. As if the next insurance policy is so important he/she can’t talk to me. Hey fucker, I have questions. It’s like going to a fancy restaurant and the wait staff is yanking the appetite plate away.
Gosh, somehow I’ve never pictured Nancy quite like that. I always thought she was more along the lines of Nancy “Jane Hathaway” Kulp!
Your picture could still hold, Jane Hathaway was always trying to get Jethro to give her some lovin’.
Now that nostrils is history, how about a picture of him in full regalia?
We are making the assumption here that Nostrils cheated with a woman. Maybe it was a Johnny Depp look alike.
Nancy was there twice and we only get four bullet points!
Jeff, you are getting too good at this… always leave them hanging, so we come back for more, right?
88 degrees? It was 103 here for a couple days and 100 for a couple more. And part of that was without electricity. At one point I think my spinal fluid was simmering. I think the Earth is spiraling into the Sun and the gubbmint is hiding that fact from us because we might panic. Or is that UFO’s. Fuck…I don’t know. I’m crazy from the heat I tell ya.
Yeah. It’s almost like all over the world the climate is changing. Al Gore should have warned us.
jtb
He was too busy inventing the internet.
But I hear you about the heat. I went to seek relief at the beach yesterday, doused myself in #35 sunblock and STILL got a burn. One of my legs is red on one side, white on the other. If I twist the mofo, I can look like a barbershop pole. (and yeah, it’s that white!)
Then, as long as you’re in the city, may I respectfully suggest that you transport your ass to the Peppermint Lounge to twist the night away? As I recall, it’s right there on West 45th. Unless it moved or something since 1963.
jtb
I was able to go see the family, which was nice, and drove 750 miles of I-95 in the process, which was not. Also the temperature was 100-ish the whole time. I spent one night in my parents’ sweltering East Village apartment. They have air conditioning, but “don’t believe in it”. Fine – a little heat stroke is a small price to pay if you can save a couple of bucks on the electric bill.
.
Don’t believe in it? It’s not the damn tooth fairy.
Poor Nossy, sitting around in his freshly refrigerated Liam Neeson underwear.
I’m having a Mike’s Hard Lemonade right now. Terrible. It’s basically Kool-Aid with a squirt of Purell in it.
I’m having a Talisker right now. Neat, water on the side. It’s pretty damned awesome.
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My physician’s office got smart and now they make you give up your co-pay BEFORE you see anyone. Not sure if it is related, but at one appointment last year I got tired of waiting so long in the exam room I just got up and left.
I didn’t need my shoulder looked at that bad.
Whenever I go into a waiting room I carry a backpack in with me. I sign in, sit down, open my backpack and pull out an assault rifle. Get’s ya seen quick. You’re welcome.
Had some uppity bitch in the office last week who felt it necessary to dump the contents of her oversized purse onto the floor in the waiting room for her “clean out” she hadn’t done in months. People had to step over all the shit she spilled out. Unbelievable gall.
My birthday was yesterday. The big 4-9. Jumpin Jezabel. It was too f’n hot to light THAT many candles. Just went to Ret Lobster for lunch.
Boy, Nancy thinks of herself as quite the catch but thinks men are imbeciles. Hmmm…. She better get herself a Silver Bullet and a supply of AA batteries to keep herself semi-happy until the perfect moron comes along.
Well Happy Birthday to you.
Nancy needs a silver bullet? WTF would a late-night TV blender thing do for her?
Happy Birfday, BC!
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Happy birthday! And Nancy and toys just brings up visions I don’t need.
Chick…
Happiest of birthdays. I was going to suggest that you celebrate by wearing your FMPs out for a hot date with your boyfriend. But it’s too damn hot for F, and with heat sickness you’re likely to fall off the Ps.
You might substitute some high-heeled sneakers in case some fool might wanna fight.
Again, happy birthday. May you have 49 more.
best wishes….John
Happy Birthday Bickerchick!
And JTB, it is never too hot for the F, specially on your birthday!
Happy Birthday (belated) Bikerchick! To beat the heat, put a softball size follop of ice cream on your cake.
I like birthdays that end in “9” – you got another decade beat!
DOLLOP – (what the hell is a follop???)
If you check out the bunker cam I think you just came up with the word for the sound those ‘honkers’ make.
A follop is when you are interviewing someone and you need to expou idea.nd on their idea. I just have a few follops for you.
Happy belated birthday Bikerchick!
Happy birthday, Bikerchick!
I am so happy you’re back.
Happy Birthday BikerChick!
So glad Jeff is bring back the daily updates!
I think Nostrils excuse is valid if it is true (and not part of Jeff’s fantasy world): ” .. He had to find a young inexperienced girl, so he could be the dominate one, for a change.”
Explains the water bottle for his vagina.
First of all…Happy Birthday bikerchick. You’ll be glad to know you’re still not too old for me.
Dating and having sex daily have nothing to do with each other. I’ve done both. And ya know what?…I’d like to take a run at ‘Miss too intelligent accomplished’. Too accomplished? Just how the hell did she get so accomplished? Cosmo? I do believe in innate ability because…never mind…but this chick seems like a text book reader.
Thanks everyone! xo!
I know I’m late, but a big Happy Birthday from Parkersburg, WV! Hope you’re cooling off a little. I know what we’ve been going through!
Wow, she’s just wonderful for her sons’ self esteem, isn’t she? What does she plan to do, convince them they need to have sex changes?
>Maybe two. AND I got to write them a check for $25 on my way out the door. Simply excellent.
-Don’t go to the doctor.
-Buy BP pills over the internet.
-Save $25. Problem solved!
(The above does not constitute medical advice).