Tomorrow We Eat SanGwiches

A couple of Saturdays ago, I get back from the gym and my friend Melanie from Massachusetts called me to tell me that she had separated her shoulder while on the doctors table getting a breast exam. She had taken a couple of muscle relaxers and when she went to turn over on the table her shoulder popped out. 

Sad story, right? Well maybe for you, my sexy readers, but not me, I laughed my motherfuckin ass off. Revenge had come although it did take two years for it to arrive. Allow me to elaborate, two summers ago I was up at the cape with Melanie and we decided to go jet-skiing. Problem 1, there was only one jet ski. Problem 2 she wanted to drive.  OK I though to myself she drives, I ride bitch but I do get to cop a feel on her lovely new breast implants. WINNER. ME.

We ride around for a while and all of a sudden she makes a sharp turn at top speed that I wasn't ready for and I go tumbling off into the water and POP! goes my shoulder. The pain is blinding due to the life vest tugging on my shoulder further pulling it out of place. 

Mel comes sweeping around looks at me and tells me to get in. When I tell her what had happened, she answers with something like, "take your tampon out and get on the ski" Manhood challenged, I get on the ski with considerable pain as every movement causing shooting pain through my arm and chest. After what seemed to be a the most bumpiest ride ever, every bump was so painful that I started to laugh because of the shooting pain.  BTW my defense against intense physical pain is uncontrollable laughter. Masochistic, I know.

We get back to the dock and she says she has to go inside to put some shoes on so that we can go to the hospital and put my shoulder back into place. TEN MINUTES LATER! She comes out with her shoes, a cute sun dress that shows off her boobs and makeup.  I look at her with the biggest WTF faces in the history of WTF faces and she goes, "what if I run into someone I know."  My first thought was, don't worry it God will even this out somehow, somewhere.  So what did we learn from this? Yes I have supernatural powers. 

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My sexy readers who know me know that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year.  Family and freiends get together for a great meal of turkey with all the trimmings. Roasted garlic mashed potatoes, cornbread stuffing, oven roasted sweet potato fries, roasted cippolini onions with a balsamic vinegar glaze. Italian wedding soup with an antipasta plate and a helping of baked ziti thrown in for good measure.

Ok, I know what your thinking. Those last three items aren't Thanksgiving food, they are part of what Italians call "Sunday dinner" in Staten Island, New Jersey or whereever Italians are living these days. BTW I want to throw a social experiment out there, this week go up to any real italian person you know, we should all know at least one and ask them what they are going to eat for Thanksgiving. They will mention at least one if not all three of the italian dishes mentioned above. When you ask them about the Turkey, their answer will probably be, "oh yeah we gots one of dem too, the Turkey will be about 12 pounds." Here's the catch though, this turkey will feed about 30 people.

Here is the abridged italian version of the Story of Thanksgiving (translation in parentheses). When dose (those) pilgrims guys sat down with da (the) indians for their Thanksgiving meal togedah (together), Nonna (Italian Grandmother, who should be sainted even though she is still alive) brought out youge (plentiful) helpings of ziti with meatballs, broccoli rabe, some antipast (a platter that contains some cured meats such as salami and prosciutto with an assortment of italian cheeses such as provolone and parmesean). Oh yeah and the Indians brought the turkey.

Posted by nelson57 at 07:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Tuesday night I come home to my apartment to find an ominous sign hanging on the the elevator door. "NO WATER, RISER IS BROKEN! EMERGENCY PLUMBER HAS BEEN CALLED!!!"  Great, I thought to myself, no water.  But hey I'm a new yorker, I will just cope and deal.  As my sexy fellow new yorker readers can attest to, we have inconveniences every day, i.e. subway stuck in the tunnel for a half hour or your cable goes out for half a day causing you to miss last week's episode of Grey's Anatomy, where one doctor is trying to sleep with another doctor but there's another doctor who wants to sleep with the both of them and a vicious love triangle ensues, but who cares they all have great hair!

Anyways, I figure whats a night without water, I can get through it, it won't be that bad.  Boy was I wrong.  I have a certain ritual that goes on once I get home: first, I go to the bathroom, wash up and handle whatever business doesn't get handled throughout the day. Which usually means taking a dump, I don't /can't go at work cause it would involve waaaay too much prep work.  You gotta build a nest of toilet paper and you have to make sure that no one is in the stall next to you.  BTW this is an unspoken "guy rule" for all the sexy ladies out there who read my blog.  Only in case of a dire emergency can you take a dump next to a guy in a stall, there has to be a one stall barrier between you and a fellow dumper and if there is only two stalls then you must wait for the other guy to finish before you go.

Well now I can't go, thank god there wasn't a pressing need so I don't feel that bad, but I still have to take a piss, now I realize that I only have one good flush for the rest of the night and  have to decide right then and there what do I do. Do I take a piss and follow the "if its yellow let it mellow, if its brown, flush it down" rule of water conservation or piss in the tub and aim for the drain and clean up any spillage that may occur.  If any of you are taken aback by this, stop right there, we have all pissed in the tub, whether it has been taking a shower or if you have morning wood and you know that if you try to piss in the toilet you are going to hit everything but, you piss on the wall the floor, the back of the toilet. Not a drop actually hits water. So the tub is a much bigger target and you are going to be in the shower shortly anyway so what the hell. There was also the brief though of opening the window and pissing out of it, hey it was misty that night anyway so why not add to the mist. I decided against it, it was cold and breezy and I didn't want to deal with the shrinkage issue. I went with the toilet, less clean up afterward.  

Now that one potential disaster was averted, I began to realize that we really use water for alot of things, like washing things, I had a plate and pan left over from breakfast that morning that needed to be washed, or else there would be some unwanted guests in the form of unkillable NYC roaches paying a visit to my kitchen, but I had no water and I already used the toilet so my reserve of water was already tainted. So logically I broke out the cleaning products and used good old Formula 409 and a paper towel to clean up. I figure hey it's good for cleaning the kitchen so why not kitchen items. 

So for the rest of the night, I couldn't shit, cook, clean or piss with an erection, Great!!! 

Posted by nelson57 at 10:25 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)