Politics, butter, hemorrhoids and Pinocchio

     Sometimes I get the feeling that nobody really knows me.  Earlier today my mother sent me a text and asked if I wanted to go see Donald Trump with her.  First off, let me say that politics aren't my thing and a room full of pissed off rednecks isn't exactly how I like to spend my Sunday.  Usually, I'm open to having people believe what they want to believe, but this election is like butter in the coffee to me.  In that, some people are really into it just like some people are really into putting butter in their coffee, but personally I think it's totally gross and super unhealthy.

     I don't usually talk about politics or religion.  I also don't talk about hemorrhoids.  Even though there's a biblical passage in the book of Samuel about the Golden Hemorrhoids and the mice who ate the Golden Hemorrhoids.  And why is nobody talking about this? I know it probably got washed over because the rest of the chapter is the whole Covenant of the Ark thing, but I think I'm raising a valid point here.  Like how did these hemorrhoids come about?  Who did they belong to?  Were they spun out of gold like Rumplestiltskin, or was it like how you bronze baby shoes? And where did the mice come from?  Are they like special Cinderella mice, biblical mice, or like the mouse that was in my kitchen, that I caught with a toaster? I just have so many questions.  Tell me you really would not like to hear more about this story!  If we're going to go into a religious discussion shouldn't this be first on the list?

     All of this political talk, biblical talk and questions on hemorrhoids, makes me think I should have had more fun at my colonoscopy.  I mean I did amuse myself by trying to decide whether to wear the shirt that said "Crap," or the one that said "Touchole." However, in the end it didn't matter because I the stuff I had to drink made me cold, so I just wore my Don Kotts hoodie.  Plus when I got there they made me change anyway, because nobody is any fun.
   
     I don't do hospital drugs well.  After my breast reduction surgery I heckled someone while my eyes were still closed, before I had fully woken up from the anesthesia.  This time was no different.  After the colonoscopy, while in recovery the doctor came in to give me an update on the procedure.  Before he even sat down I asked him if he had located "an old boot, a rubber tire, a Michigan license plate, or a small wooded puppet that goes by the name of Pinocchio?" The doctor was not amused.  My spouse, who was sitting next to me, was not amused.  Once again, nobody is any fun.  The doctor told me that everything was normal, but he did notice some internal hemorrhoids.  Upon hearing this, I began shouting "I HAVE ROID RAGE! I'm so OCD and anal retentive that I have internal hemorrhoids!" Once again - Crickets.  At least I amuse myself.

     The End


P.S. While writing this blog I had to Google words I didn't know how to spell.  So I apologize to anyone at the NSA that just saw the words Hemorrhoids, Rumplestiltkin and Pinocchio on my internet history.