A Bit About Me

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Along with my daily duties as founder and head writer of HumorMeOnline.com, in 2003, I took the Grand Prize in the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest (also known as the "It Was a Dark and Stormy Night" competition). I've also been a contributor to "The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson" and the web's "The Late Show with David Letterman". I also occupy my time writing three blogs, "Blogged Down at the Moment", "Brit Word of the Day" and "Production Numbers"...and my off-time is spent contemplating in an "on again/off again" fashion...my feable attempts at writing any one of a dozen books. I would love to write professionally one day...and by that I mean "actually get a paycheck".

22 February 2013

Compulsively thinking...about my butt!

(The back half of the paper upon which I wrote this blog...as you can tell, I used pretty much every useable spot.)


I am the last of a dying breed. I do something which no one seems to do much of anymore: I talk.

I am good at it - the only other thing I am great at is worrying - and if I could get paid for doing it all those times I've done it, it would make Oprah, Bill Gates, and Zuckerberg look like paupers in comparison.

But back to my talking. I do it instinctively...I do it obsessively...dare I say, I do it compulsively? Well, I did and I do (and thereby fulfilling today's idiotic prompt).

Take today for instance...I'm back at the gastroenterologist for my "butt appointment". I fear the worst - I hope for the best...what I'll get only time will tell. I'm sitting here in the examination room with that embossed tissue paper wrap "garment" they give you to wear (it's a large square - one size fits all...heaven knows it goes around me twice and that means most people in Alabama won't be able to make both ends meet). Underneath it, I am naked from my shirt down.

I have another thing I do which I rank up there with a whole lot of other obsessive compulsive stuff I do...I always pull that "barrier wrap" paper down a little - the one they put over the examination table - I have no real idea why...it makes me feel safer.

You must realize that someone else's naked butt was just on that table and the only thing separating me from the previous patient's "cooties" is this paper, thinner than air mail paper if I remember correctly. In other words, very thin...if you look hard enough you can see the germs permeating it I bet...but I refuse to look. Sometimes I even fold it back over on itself - a double layer of germ protection...this I usually do at the gynecologist. Again, why? Anyone's guess.

I'm also not looking forward to having my butt examined. Not that I have issues with doctors looking "down there" - I just don't want to hear I need surgery.

I can hear him with the patient in the next room over (muffled - but it's his distinct voice - he has an accent and this is what his voice sounds when it's muffled...and it's also what it sounds like thru the exceedingly annoying tinnitus I have in my head...but it's him for sure).

Today, since I haven't told you yet -- is "hemorrhoid banding day". Friday mornings, every other week is reserved for that purpose only.

Only last Saturday nite, I had a "butt explosion". I apparently made the mistake of not eating enough dietary fiber and ended up "straining". Needless to say, that resulted in my bottom looking like any female chimpanzee in estrus you've ever had the shocking pleasure of seeing on those wildlife documentaries. Fearing "death by rectum" or some other such malady, I promptly went to the Emergency Room.

You can tell something isn't right when the ER doctor doesn't poke you. She stood behind me (well, she had to in this case) and just looked. She might have gently touched...but there was definitely no poke involved. I think she was afraid. Heaven help me, the ER doctor lady was afraid to touch my butt, I just know it. She didn't say she was - but I could tell. There are some things you don't do in life: You don't poke a glowing green meteorite from outer space with a stick...you don't go down into the basement in a horror film...and you don't touch Mariann's butt in the Emergency Room at 2:00 a.m.

It's getting quiet "next door". I think I might be next. It's 10:22. I've been here since 8:15 for my 8:30 appointment...which brings me back around to talking.

I had another captive audience in the waiting room again - and I took advantage of it again. I spoke with a lovely 72-year-old woman whose mother died in 1999 at the age of 98; her father made it all the way to 101. She didn't look a day over 59...and, altho she was here on "Butt Day Friday", she might have been here to see another doctor. I'll never know now -- as that darned nurse-type person interrupted our conversation by calling her away.

But all was okay - two unsuspecting victims walked in by the time she went totally thru the door. "Replacement talkers" as I refer to them...and they, too, were both lovely people.

And I just ran out of useable paper space...and the doctor's here.







(Seriously, I ran completely out of useable paper space just exactly when I wrote "...I just ran out of paper..." and just exactly then...the doctor came in. I couldn't have timed that any better if I wanted.)



The aftermath...and the math:

I got my third banding today...and I was pretty much right with my butt...but, I won't go into detail. He assures me, somewhat, that if I stick to his diet and eat more fruit - I can heal up...but I have to eat all those fruits. If I don't, he figured we might have to talk surgery. Ugh. No fun. No fun at all. I will try to eat those fruity things I am not partial to eating. I like vegetables much better anyway. But I do like staying out of surgery even more.



Please go over to "We Work for Cheese" for much better blog subject matter today...using today's prompt "compulsively".



In case you thought there was an excessive amount of the words "but" and "butt" - you were right - I used them 18 times in this story. Well, counting those two...I used them an even twenty. :)
 
 
 

33 comments:

  1. Haha! Mariann, I LOL'd at work while I was reading this, and yes, I really LOL'd. :D

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Go on - laugh at my poor pathetic butt. :(

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  2. Oh man, I can identify. When I was in the hospital in January the only thing the nurses wanted to know was if I'd had a bowel movement and if so what was it's consistency. You see in the weeks preceding my stay at Hotel Hell I had, among other maladies, diarrhea. Now did you ever try to fart with diarrhea? You're taking a considerable chance. Now I'm always up for a good challenge but in this instance it's a losing proposition. It's probably too late to tell you all this. Just thought I'd share.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You're a guy, right? Guys love to share wet fart stories.

      Delete
  3. "Death by Rectum" would be a marvelous title for a book, Mariann. I love it!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It is rather good - I might be compelled to read that. ROFL

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  4. With a problem like that, I am very happy you at least had some people to talk to while waiting! Now go have some fruit. ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. All I have are very old pears. I'm having a glass of prune juice now...yes I am old. :(

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  5. Usually, although there are exceptions, I'm not much of a talker. Yet - or maybe because of this - people talk to me all the time. Strangers at the grocery store, doctor's office, pharmacy, DMV, wherever. I think we should start hanging out at the same places, Mariann. :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You don't live in Alabama, do you? I think it's a thing from here. If you are not from here - you are not one of them...therefore you don't get talked to. The 72-year-old lady I spoke with today, who has been here for six years said the same thing...no one talks to her. She's from New York. I swear they will not talk to "foreigners".

      Delete
  6. I'm a talker- I get it fro my mom- sometimes I think people think I'm loony *shrug* there are worse things I guess

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    Replies
    1. I got it from my mother, too. I think when my mother died...the talking part of her entered my body and has not left. :) THAT'S how much my mother loved to talk...she's using me to talk through. :)

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  7. I like to talk, too. I don't like butt germs.

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    Replies
    1. My butt is really not feeling great inside at all. This banding really hurts. I hope it lets up by tomorrow.

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  8. I misread a word in your blog. Thought you were getting all renaissance-y when I thought you said "ma lady".

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  9. Good grief, that was you NOT going into detail?! =O

    ReplyDelete
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  11. My eyes, my poor flaming eyes.

    I cannot unsee this post.

    I pray for death.

    ReplyDelete
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    1. If your face wouldn't have slid off you would have had eyelids. You could have closed your eyes then.

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  13. If it makes you feel any better, I compulsively talk about my butt too!

    ReplyDelete
  14. Yes, I know. You are my BBF (best butt friend). :)

    ReplyDelete
  15. I was hoping somebody would post more entries about butts during this writing challenge, and I'm happy to see that you filled in that niche very nicely.

    I hope you and your butt do a lot better in the coming weeks.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think the art of talking about the butt, on the whole, has been lost. ;)

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