Damnitkage

So…start the day off testing my blood sugar, not too bad.  Move on to blood pressure.  HOLY S*()@! Um…”listen pal, at the risk of sounding oh..I don’t know…alarmist…YOU BETTER GET TO THE F’ING DOCTOR RIGHT THE F*^& now”, I says to myself  (sometimes my inner voice is a little dramatic and trying for the academy award).

So off I go to the new dr. Wasn’t really even sure of her name and I’m still not.  After some consideration, it wasn’t as bad as my little unit showed but still wasn’t very good at all.  In fact it was still high as a kite, just not a nuclear powered kite with space craft aspirations.

So now because I’m a lazy f*(@) and won’t go to the gym or eat right or get any exercise and who let’s his work run his life, I have to pay the piper and let the chickens roost where they may (how’s that for mixed metaphors or whatever…).  I just hope they don’t poop on me.  I mean really…chicken poop?!  Gross.

Here’s hoping that the nuclear physicists who run the MRA don’t overload the flux capacitors or something.  That would probably suck.