THE CONTINUING SAGA OF MY BROKEN CLAVICLE

Yeah, another one of these posts. I'm sure you're as sick of reading them as I am of writing them, but hey, fuck it! If you want fresh/sexy material, feel free to read Pierre Fitch's blog. His abuse of emoti-cons is borderline criminal. But if you can get past that, and his empty-headed prose, there are some NICE pictures on there of him and his ever changing array of companions.

SO! It's been just over 4 weeks and I'm still jerking off with my left hand. Fuck. Me. Yesterday I had my 2nd follow-up appointment, which I was lead to believe would include a consultation with an Orthopedic doctor who specifically specializes in shoulders. Off to Cook County Hospital I went...where I sat for 30 minutes, and then was told to go to the Radiology department, where I waited 2 hours before yours truly was called.

This might seem petty, but after I checked in there I purposely choose a corner where no one else was sitting, so I could read and writhe in agony in relative peace.

Minutes later, a vaguely Eastern European couple wandered over, soon followed by another Eastern European man on crutches. They thoughtfully sat on either side of me and continued TO FUCKING TALK AS LOUD AS THEY COULD in their native language. Jesus C. I thought I was going to have a panic attack. But a potential crisis was averted after I got up and moved as far, Far, FAR away from them as I could. Can't you assholes see I'm trying to read Entertainment Weekly? Pffffft.

Anywho, when my name was finally called I practically ran up to the person holding my papers, and swiftly followed him into a room outfitted with GE's finest Radiological equipment. 2 quick snaps and the technician said "ok, that's it". Really? Whatever, I sat down in a chair and waited for him to give me further instruction.

10 minutes later I'm still sitting there with my thumb up my ass, and so I went to look for him behind the wall partition...and HE'S GONE. WTF? I wandered out to the Radiology department's check-in desk, where no less than 5 people pretended I didn't exist.

Finally, a random doctor asked me if I needed anything. I explained I had just gotten some X-Rays and wasn't sure what to do next, especially since I thought I would be directed to see a proper doctor. NOPE! He told me to go home. In regards to my X-Ray results, he gave me the whole "don't call us, we'll call you" thing. Bitch please!

UGH, I'm so fucking frustrated, and in constant fucking pain.

AND ANOTHER THING THAT FUCKING HURTS

2 Fridays ago, before I ate shit on my bike, I got a haircut. I've been growing my hair out, so it had been awhile since the last time I got my hair did. But it was time. So I rode over to my usual barber-shop, where the thick accented Syrian dude gave me a solid cut (he always does a good job).

Another thing I did, was to ask him to trim my eyebrows. It seems that with age, my eyebrows grow like crazy! Usually, the barber will simply hold a comb up to my eyebrows and use the buzzer to get them back in line.

However, for reasons that are still not clear, he decided to go all medieval on me and decided to employ the old school method of removing hair, specifically, threading. At first I didn't even realize what he was asking to do (did I mention he has a super thick accent?). All I understood was his insistence that I lay back and close my eyes.

Next thing I know, he's taking 2 SUPER FUCKING SHARP pieces of fine thread, and ripping hair off my face. Can I get an OOOOOUUUUUCCCCCHHHHH!? Fuck man! Shit hurt. A LOT. But I must admit, he did a fantastic job, not only on the eyebrows, but I really like my haircut too. And I only paid $12. Not bad!

PS - I would KILL for eyelashes like those pictured above!

HOLY FUCK DOES MY HEAD HURT

And no, not from drinking. Last night I was walking home from the bars and I got hit my a car. Or thrown into a brick wall. I'm really not sure as the concussion that I sustained has left me with no memory of the incident.

There are brief, sporadic flashes of seeing blood all over my hands, an Ambulance coming to pick me up and being fed into an MRI machine. Also, I kind of remember a member of Chicago's finest restraining me in a bed when I repeated tried to get up and leave the hospital.

Thankfully my iPhone survived intact which allowed me to call my brother, the Ex-Roomie and my brother's ex girlfriend, all of whom I told to "fuck off" several times. Not sure why. I had no idea where I was but eventually a nurse was kind enough to tell my brother's ex-girlfriend which hospital I was at, and she brought me back to her home and stayed up for most of the night making sure I wasn't unconscious.

I'm told not to sleep until later tonight, which is unfortunate since I'm exhausted and really sore.

This morning I walked to the corner from my brother's ex's place to get cigarettes. You should have seen the slightly horrified look on various people's faces. There are 3 huge abrasions on my face and also a bloody spot on my forehead. I guess I didn't need stitches, which I suppose is a good thing.

Not sure I'm even typing right now as my thought process is really slow. I think I'm gonna lie down.