Okay, so some of you know I’ve had a abscess-boil thing on my jawline for a week or so. It’s not particularly painful, but it is a discomfort when it comes to walking around, yawning, and other jolting motions.
Based upon it’s gigantic size, reddish exterior, infected interior, revolting alteration of the landscape of the right side of my face like his gross distortion of the conservative side of politics, and unwanted presence, I named it Michael Moore. I thought about calling it Ted Rall, but the bloody impressions upon the bandages I’ve changed out and the milky-red oozings in the sink actually look better than his cartoons.
I’ve been taking some very powerful antibiotics for Michael, and they’ve been working great. So good, that I’ve managed to mess up the bathroom mirror twice with long sprays of gore and bloody grime in cleaning the revolting abomination. (Which, once again, looked better than Rall cartoons.)
Anyway, the official drainage ceremony of Michael Moore was yesterday, performed by my favorite medical professional the health plan provideth.
During this drainage ceremony, the cleaning of the revolting object was described as “wonderful” and “great” and at one point “beautiful.”
I can understand than when you compare just having to squeeze and lightly swab an infection which antibiotics are working well upon to one that would need a needle or knifework to access would be “easy” or “optimal” or possibly “good.” But to describe an eruption of pus and blood that fills three gauze pads as “beautiful” sounds like a molestation of the language to me.
“Are you faint?” I was asked. “Do you need to lie back for a moment?”
“No, I’m just stunned at your choice of words, that’s all,” I said. “I’m not sure the word beautiful can be applied to such a process.”
So now I’ve got a smaller aberration on my jawline, a slimmed-down version of Michael Moore like the slimmed-down post-fatfarm Moore that’s sure to whale up the moment his limo passes those Golden Arches. To finish him off, I’ve gotten a heat/cold pack that works in the microwave.
I dream of being able to chew gum again. Yup. Can’t chew gum. That irritates Michael Moore, because it’s sugar-free gum and not, say, a dozen Big Macs.
Thanks a lot, Michael Moore.