a concerned citizen writes in

i received a comment on my HK spy post that i got a bit carried away with replying to and so felt it deserved its own space, much like me when i've been stewing in my own diseased juices for 13 hours straight.

A concerned viewer writes:
maybe this is too obvious ... (shortened for brevity) ...but why don't you go see a doctor????

i'm glad someone out there cares... even my mom told me to shut my trap and get back to work in the rice fields where i belong. unless... mom? is that you? she's always pretending to be someone else when she needs to say something tender, useful, or life-affirming. one time she dressed up as a saigon whore and told me about the facts of life, the birds and the bees, if you will. another time, she robbed then beat me at a gas station, where i worked for 6 years of my post-PhD. life, and as she took the last set of 20's out of the register, she taught me how the british parliament operates. oh, mom *sigh*, we'll always have the Shell Station incident.

but in reality, i fear 3rd world hospitals as much as i fear albino dwarf wrestlers. ever since i was injected with unidentifiable bubbly liquids in La Paz, Bolivia, after a 4 day bout of the dreaded #3 (asspiss), i often see beyond the space-time continuum when the temperature reaches slightly above 80degrees. i haven't trusted doctors since, especially those that look like Edward James Olmos and have fresh placentas littering their office floor.

i've even shelled out some massive bucks for travel insurance but i'm afraid to use it because i fear the power that these large health care organizations wield on weak expendable types like me. they can have me or any of my family members "neutralized" whenever they receive a claim they don't feel like paying. that's how i lost my 2nd pet hamster (Rocket II) and 4th pet hamster (Rocket IV). i swore to avenge both their deaths but i've realized that's a fool's mission.

anyway, i'm pretty good at convincing myself that tomorrow is the day i'll recuperate just like tomorrow's the day i finally get to touch a girl or tomorrow, i'll refrain from donning 8 ounce boxing gloves and punching myself in the groin, repeatedly.

thank you, concerned fan and to you i offer a sick and lonely man's singular applau.

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