Anal beads and microscopic warfare

1 Mar

I’m sick, slightly delirious, and am having a hard time finding energy to focus on an attempt at quality writing. But I’m trying to write at least once a day, so here go a bunch of words thrown together until I’ve sufficiently bored myself.

I’m a pathetic miserable sight right now. The loudness of my frequent sneezes makes my dog jump each time. Breathing out of my mouth with a tissue stuck up my nostrils, sweating all kinds of nasty, and munching on Lindt chocolate. I remember something about healthy eating habits in a distant past, but the memory escapes me.

Being sick can be a drag when you live alone. I remember when I had the stomach flu a couple of months after I’d first moved out on my own. I was so miserable and tired of vomiting, I cried sitting on the bathroom floor in my underwear with my head barely out of the toilet. Seriously, how fucking sad is that? It’s all my mother’s fault. She was too good to me; setting alarms so I could take my antibiotics right on time in the middle of the night, homemade soups, whatever-I-wanted for breakfast… clearly trying to set me up for lifelong failure.

I don’t mind sickness alone anymore. I just make sure to change my bedding so my nasty germs don’t get recycled, shower twice a day (for the same reason), take meds, drink water, wear my glasses to give my eyes a break from the contacts, and rejoice in the extra time to catch up on my readings and movie watching. I still take the dog on (shorter, slower) walks, so I get some fresh air too. When necessary, I stumble into CVS Pharmacy looking like a drugged out hoodlum version of Rudolph and wander the aisles talking to myself until I find all the things I can buy to feel better. Walking by the feminine hygiene aisle is always a blast; why do we need so much crap for our vaginas? Take this, for example:

"exploding quietly inside you for unparalleled comfort"

What the hell IS that? Reminds me of what I once found at the gynecologist’s office:

now that I think of it, I shouldn't have touched them.

Those are anal beads and I won’t hear otherwise. I just wasn’t aware of the liquid vagina beads. But then again, a quick search for “fetish” on PornHub should render one un-fazed by most things.

Where the hell was I? I don’t know and my brain is tired. I sign off with an excerpt from the most righteous of dudes, a man whose words everyone should read, especially if they like intelligence, satire, badassness, truth, common sense, hilarity, and distinguishable writing. It’s from his book Kingdom of Fear, which I so fortuitously just picked up on Saturday and will have the pleasure of reading as my immune system and its chemical allies wage war against this Nazi virus. This bit made me laugh because, as a writing enthusiast, I’ve found myself guilty of lame “wrap up” attempts too many times…

The Author’s Note – if it exists at all – is invariably the worst and lamest part of any book, my own included. That is because it is necessarily the last and most blind-dumb desperate “final touch” that gets heaped into a book just before it goes to the printer – and the whole book, along with the two years of feverish work and anguish, is doomed to failure and ruin if the author won’t produce the note in time for publication.
– Hunter S. Thompson

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6 Responses to “Anal beads and microscopic warfare”

  1. The Mercurial Wife March 1, 2010 at 11:39 #

    Hey! I just love the way you write! And hope you better soon.

    From your new follower!

    And check out this thread on 20sb! http://www.20sb.net/forum/topics/underrated-bloggers

  2. Brian March 1, 2010 at 15:49 #

    What will the sexual lubrication industry come up with next? -Slash- I’m really curious about that thing you found at the gyno.

  3. Living with Balls March 1, 2010 at 17:08 #

    And I thought buying condoms was embarassing…

  4. Night Writer March 1, 2010 at 18:23 #

    mercurial wife – gaaaah, you’re too sweet!

    brian, i don’t know what the hell it is, and i definitely didn’t ask. i lie to my doctors about drinking, smoking, and exercise (i don’t know why… i guess i desperately want them to think i’m a really good girl) – so i’m not about to ask why she’s got anal beads in the office. for all intents and purposes, i’ve never even heard of anal beads…

    living with balls… i have nothing to say to you. i just have to go read your blog now. ridiculous.

  5. Barbara March 1, 2010 at 20:46 #

    thanks for the good laugh. hope you feel better!

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. True Story « Night Writings - March 5, 2010

    […] concoction to wash her body. Her face, however, should be rubbed with douche. Fan-fucking-tastic. Back to CVS Pharmacy and its chipper feminine hygiene […]

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