mrpeenee’s craptastic birthday

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Was my birthday totally craptastic? Why, yes, it was.
It all started when I got out of bed. Doesn’t it always? I started to black out and then kept swooning. It took me three tries to get back from the bathroom to my bed. I had stopped a medicine the night before in order to start a new one and our doctorman thinks the switch resulted in a series of mini-seizures. Fabulous. I suppose minis are better than full scale ones, but I would still rather have a blow job from some muscular youth.

Later that afternoon, en route to a birthday massage at the Kabuki Spa, I got a call from R Man. The results of his biopsy had come in; he has non-small cell lung cancer. We’re supposed to see the oncologist on Friday and will have no details until then. Wikipedia assures us this is better than the some other kind of cancer, much like mini-seizures. Please see my comment above re: blow job, muscular youth about what we would rather actually have.

The massage? Fine, but you know, massages need to be a “here, now” kind of experience and I kept sliding off into “what if” crummy land. Hard to pay attention.
The evening finally was capped off by my second oldest friend calling me from Texas to say she has been in the hospital since February with a perforated colon. She may recover. She may not.
She’d probably prefer a muscular youth as well.

Yeah, happy birthday. I felt like the cosmos was yelling “But wait! There’s more!” like a ginzu knife ad.
If you want me, I’ll be in bed with the covers over my head.

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

20 responses »

  1. Horrible horrible horrible.
    Horrible.

    But I pray earnestly…and have faith in the Lord that you *will* triumph over this…and one day there will be pancakes and blowjobs and daffodils all around.
    amen

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  2. The very least I can do is go ahead and send you your muscular youth with the blowjob lips. Since you're already in bed and all…

    Sorry about the shizzyness.

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  3. It all started when I got out of bed.

    I suggest you never get out of bed again. Just conduct your business from a drivable bed. Preferably a Craftmatic or Sleep Number model.

    I imagined dark clouds rolling up with sinister thundering as I read this. Silver linings sweetie…there’s got to be a silver lining somewhere in this series of events.

    I’m so concerned about you guys and will keep you in a constant rotation of thought and prayer. Thought then prayer…thought then prayer.

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  4. It is certainly NOT the birthday party that I would have planned for you. But lets try an find a silver lining to the clouds:

    1) Lets be thankful that you don't operate a large crane for living when you had one of those nasty seizures. That could have been really messy.

    2) Let's be thankful that RMan is getting good medical care and that he isn't one of these men that let something for years before they see the doctor and find out they have four minutes to live (that would be my cousin Dennis who is dying of three different cancers – all of which could have been treated if he hadn't waited five years to see a doctor).

    3) And let's be thankful that you don't have a perferated colon. I send good vibrations to your friend for fast healing, but I'm glad that I need not send them to you.

    Anyway, I am working on a present for peenee on Periodically Anachronistic and hope to have it up by tomorrow afternoon. Hugs, SJK

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  5. Peenee, in my self-absorption, I have been in a horrid “why me?” mood for the past few weeks. So I shamefully repent and am investing all that energy into sending you and R-Man positive thoughts. (But not blow jobs, 'cause I'm sure the postage on those is crazy-insane.)

    xoxoxo

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  6. oi!! kind of a schwartz yor for you – then again, god was never a good sport at celebrating other people's birthdays

    as for the muscly blow-jobbing tsatskehs, when you've shtupped one, you've shtupped them all, and in the end you're left with a k'vetshing schmuck to send back home before he turns into a meshugener

    gevalt, enough already

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  7. WOAH. First off, I apologize for the late reply. I have been blog-reading in chunks. But that is no excuse.
    My god.
    How we all found each other in our strange little blog world (Thom, it's all your fault!) is a small miracle and for that I'm grateful. I hope you know we're here for you in the “virtual” and real – yes – REAL – world as well.

    Much love and good thoughts from me and the Pup, all 85 lbs of him.

    xo

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  8. I am truly sorry to hear about both of your health issues! may you one day soon have your luck turn around and young, virile men stripping slowly to the song of your choice.

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