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2003-10-01 @ 4:55 p.m.
ears to you....

things found in my ear during the cleaning today:

  • pictures of Rumsfeld and Cheney cavorting around in velvet hot-pants with Bush singing karaoke in the background.
  • the rest of Arnold Schwartzenagger's IQ
  • some unfinished Beatles lyrics
  • weapons of mass destruction with a map of Iraq attached to them, with purple crayon marks saying "Put here", "Put here", "Put here"
  • The identity of the person responsible for "Joe Millionaire", who is now hiding out in "Dunkin' Donuts" establishments around the American Southwest
  • Jimmy Hoffa
  • Ok, I'm done. It was not pleasant. Having a nurse stand over you with a turkey baster full of scalding hot water, blasting your ear drum until you scream for mercy, but that was my afternoon. And I ended up with an ear infection, not surprisingly. But I can hear now. So if you're giving me a raspberry somewhere in America...shut the fruck up! Cause I can hear you now!

    I also got some muscle relaxants for my neck. Ok, lets all think Homer Simpson for this next line of dialogue....

    "Oh, muscle relaxants...gooood".

    And nod accordingly. Yeah, I'm a happy camper. And I also got to miss the weekly misery-a-thon today too. You know, the ring nose chick whose life is the worse thing since Jesus dying on the cross. I was held up at the doctors. What can I say? Suctioning out an ear canal is hard work. It was a win-win situation. I excavated a charcoal briquette out of my ear, and missed a pity party all in a single day! Yay for me.

    I am pretty tired though. And feeling a little water logged. I had a little water proof bib on during the proceedings, but I kept dumping the ear cup forward every time the nurse would blast me. I'm funny like that.

    So on to the next crisis. Its actually the ongoing one with the fleas. It seems everyone in the world has a solution for me, except one that works...everything from dumping an entire carton of salt on my rug because the little bastards will eat it and dry up to rubbing my cat with Rosemary. Not Clooney, the green kind. I'm just trying to avoid a $30 veterinary appointment which I really can't afford. But walking through the living room every night and having 5-10 blood sucking bastards attack my ankles, is really starting to get old. And my cat won't even walk on the floor except to go to the cat box. I've got to do something soon.

    Wonder if I could turkey baster them out the front door?

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    Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty