You hot ol’ broad, you.
So, as I had previously mentioned…
…I had broken my pinky finger fighting off an army of Ninja warriors while simultaneously pleasuring a room full of Jessica Alba clones.
Have I mentioned that I’m currently on painkillers?
Thank you, Percocet.
And thank YOU, Jessica #12…I love the way you lick my feet.
Anyone seen my dog?
Keep licking, Jessie….keeeeeeep licking.
My pinky was mangled in such a way that I required surgery and had to be knocked out.
Here’s how that went:
1) GMILF Mary
I was sitting in the gurney waiting to be brought in…
…wearing nothing but that hospital gown, a pair of socks and a smile on my face.
LOOK OUT, LADIES!!
As she was looking for a place to put them, she said:
Mary: “Is this your chest?”
(hey! where’s Joseph!? HA! I’m going to Hell!)
…you’re the one with the fucking nursing degree.
I HOPE you know that’s my goddamn chest or I am seriously right the fuck outta here.
Mary: “Wow. You work out? Go to the gym?”
Is she…is she hitting on me pre-op?
Ten bucks says she checks out my junk when I’m under.
Which explains my faint memory of someone laughing during surgery.
2) My Trip to the Mall
According to what I heard, I woke up in the middle of the procedure.
What was supposed to take an hour, instead took two.
Apparently, with only an hour worth of sedative in me, I woke up.
Doctor: “You woke up and were complaining that you were in a lot of pain.”
REALLY? I COMPLAINED?
How thoughtless of me.
Maybe it’s because I woke up while you were inserting metal spikes into my bones through a four-inch long gash in the side of my hand.
Next time I’ll try to suck it up, really.
Sorry to be such a little bitch.
I heard Mary call the reaction a “mmmmfffmmmmfff.”
(she had my balls in her mouth)
Actually, she said it was a “grand mal seizure.”
I heard her say that.
However, all the other doctors were, like:
“No it wasn’t!! No it wasn’t!! You just got really stiff!”
* Mary winks at me
Whatever. Covering their asses.
It’s okay. I have these “Mall Seizures” all the time when my wife says she needs a new pocketbook.
I hate shopping.
Coming out of anesthesia is interesting.
You can hear and do things, but you’re wasted and completely out of your fucking mind.
I imagine that this is what it’s like to be Lindsay Lohan every day.
“Rodney…time to get up…can you do something? Count for us…? Say the alphabet..?”
So I remember doing this:
“A, B, C, D, E, F…”
…while bouncing my pecs one at a time to the beat.
I was doing the chest-alphabet.
I TOLD YOU they were stellar.
Nurse: “Oh geez…he’s flexing his chest.”
…I remember saying this to the room full of nurses:
“Man…all the broads are gonna dig me now.”
Even while semi-conscious.
I’m expecting the harassment suit any day now.
I hope Mary hand delivers it.
She digs me.