some candy talking

thankfully throughout my life i've been in okay health so i have never really had to stay in the hospital. so when the doc asked for my history i gave it a bit of a thinker and came out with an innocent i-seriously-thought-it-would-count answer that could easily be mistaken for sarcastic wit to which both she and her receptionist chuckled at. the answer was 'time sunat je kot' meaning 'well, only during circumcision'.

why see the doc? well, just a little something something that needs to be operated. it's this thing i've been carrying around for quite some time. i didn't even realize it's 'thing'ness until it was pointed out to me a few years ago. all throughout my college years i had always thought my neck had somehow developed freakishly steely muscles due to straining it excessively trying to stay awake during lectures. this, of course, was a foolish assumption considering that if you took the time to statistically do the numbers on how many classes i actually attended you would find that it wouldn't satisfy the regularity of a proper fitness regime.

the doc kinda made me comfortable from the moment she invited me to sit on that patient chair next to the table. it didn't take much she only had to ask my age and say 'oh really, i thought you were 16 and shit' she might have worded it differently i wouldn't know i kinda blanked out in gedikness (there's no word in the english language that could do this one justice so no translation) at 'thought you were 16'. note: that's how you charm a himbo such as yours truly. after a short discussion and q&as and whathaveyous she decided i needed a ct scan, so off i went.

other than gathering that i don't have much experience with the hospital, you should also know that i am socially awkward and have no idea whatsoever how everything works. as soon as i reached the x-ray place i think i did pretty okay at the beginning, i've managed to greet the receptionist with a nod and give him the green paper without drenching my armpits in sweat. he mentioned that for ct scans my name would be called instead of taking a number. he didn't add that i should take a seat first so i ran a few rushy signals through my brains and figured that out myself.

while sifting through an endless supply of outdated klue magazines and not wondering why they were left untouched by the largely not-so-young x-ray lab waiting room demographic i longed for the doc's clinic which had up to date editions of serious adult magazines (by this i mean of the time national geographic variety not the playboy penthouse fyi). she even had the latest lat comic. i pay attention and cherish these details because in the waiting room would be the only time you could see me engrossed in an intellectual reading material flexing my intensifying eye muscles trying to read the small caption below the pictures which other than being the focal point of my concentration is also what makes these magazines 'readable'.

back to the current waiting room, i was 'reading' and pondering away at nothing too urgent i when somehow managed to hallucinate (or soundlucinate) my name being called. and by misleading chance, the ct scan room door was also opened. without much hesitation (something which i should have heavily hallucinated instead) i walked towards and peeked into the room while still holding the door. a lady was inside prepping the ct bed thingy and ignoring my presence. i just stared blankly at this ignorance until she finally realized a 6 foot mammal was blankishly staring at her doing her work. with my trademark combo of low-fi, low frequency, and low volume voice i asked 'did you call my name?' 'err, no..' she smiled sheepishly for a while before probing further 'what are you in for?' 'ct scan' (my inner monologue going wow you got the name of that thing right at the first pronunciation). before things could get awkward and i would have to be involved in stuff like a conversation i escaped by hurrying back to my past edition klue magazine-infested refuge.

when my name was finally exclaimed i went into the room devoid of any direct facial contact to avoid witnessing the previous lady's oh-finally-it's-your-ACTUAL-turn-but-are-you-sure-it-is-though?-haha-i-keed-i-keed face. in my nervousness i almost thought i had to be naked for the scan, thankfully for everyone involved in the whole ordeal, i awaited authentic instructions.

to be honest, the first thought that went through my mind upon entering was hey is that chase and thirteen from house md behind that glass pane explaining scan results to a patient. you could say it was a familiar sight albeit a smaller version cause while in cuddy's scanning equipment facilities (ooh kinky) you could probably organize a ping pong match between two medium-sized giants in this one those unsuspecting doctors inside the safety of their cubicle won't be spared from the stink of my feet.

i also noticed that this whole scanning empire was run by females. out of genuine fear towards my opposing species i shall refrain from furthering with a snide comment citing the female breed's ability to see through all of us. on the ct equipment, the first step was to lie down, so there i was gawking at the ceiling. not exactly the best thing to do right after catching legion at the cinemas a couple of hours ago. if you haven't seen at least the trailer let me get you acquainted with spidergrandma!

oh yeah legion was okay, i wasn't expecting much so i guess i enjoyed it, a bit. paul bettany was cool as fuck. it was funny cause he was supposed to be the angel that gave a fuck about humans but it didn't seem like he gave a fuck at all not even when he was making that speech about how much he gave a fuck. in that speech to dude he looked more threatening than assuring as if going 'look, i give a fuck, just trust me real talk, *points gun*, i.. give... a fuck, awight bruv?'. wahukukgea the fuck man, he was cool though, a bit weird to watch since the movie was mostly crap-fodder and his arch nemesis was gaybriel.

dude, hollywood needs to sit down and study my religion cause we would never allow gabriel to be portrayed like that. our angels have wings that span a fucking planet, they could destroy civilizations with a single swipe and shit like that, they throw giant fireballs and shit. they don't dress in homo-bondage kits and carry mini maces with cute re-tractable spikes fuck outta here son.

but one part kinda made me laugh for a bit, it was when tyrese gibson was like 'i don't know boutchu WHITE BOY'. you know you're the realest thug when you've addressed an angel as 'white boy' wahukhukgea wow.

where was i umm, okay and then the scan doctor would relay some guidance to me using those speakers. for a while though i thought i was following orders from hal 9000 from 2001: a space odyssey cause once i was inside the giant gadget i was facing a blinking light and there were voices telling me when to and not to breath and swallow. at first i thought my brain had developed its own p.a. announcement system to control my bodily actions and then i realized that this is a massive fucking furry ball of ridiculous and i need to stop having initial 'thoughts'. this version of hal 9000 sounded female and was able to emote though, she sounded like a cutesy japanese girl but with perfect english. i'm not saying japanese people are bad at english i'm only saying sometimes you understand them better when they're speaking japanese wait what.

after i was finished one of the handlers told me the report would be finished in an hour. i went to the vending machine for a tin of milo. i'm telling you i don't know how anything works so i actually went back up to the doc's office to tell her that they told me the report was going to be completed in an hour and she kinda told me in her smile what the fuck are you doing here go back downstairs and wait. she didn't actually, she just simply went it usually takes less than that which despite her good polite intentions was uncalled for since i have already spent half an hour walking around the hospital for no reason and once i am back down there i am going to spend the next half an hour paranoid that my name might have been called out. i could easily just ask the dude if my name has been called out but i have this strange obsession with hesitating to find out something and dwelling in my own lame paranoia.

and anyway after that bla bla bla and bla bla here i am in my room it's 1:10 am i'm kinda hungry but i can't eat now maybe tomorrow can't wait for breakfast. i'm listening to r&b i'm so intoo youuuuu.

sometimes i feel like driving with a bunch of goons and parking at a post-apocalypsy stadium's parking lot to witness a mausoleum-like event. i would need to rescue one of the gladiator dudes by figuring out how to unlock his future shock technology cuffs and then double dragoning with him to defeat the thousands of men who stand to win money if they beat him. of course while trying to escape with my goons in our dirty squarish wagon we would have to fend off an army of chasers in floaty jet ski like vehicles but we would surely wait what wow i need to rest my mind.