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Sometimes you just have to pause for a second to realize that the annoying distant laugh isn’t so distant. It’s you. Well, I do have to say life can be funny at times. I will be singing that “All I want for Christmas…” song this Christmas. You see, my real dental insurance doesn’t kick in until January. My current insurance has a dental option, but I might as well have nothing. What happened was this: I was sucker punched by my B.O.B. No, it’s not what you may be thinking. My B.O.B. is my Body Opponent Bag. A free-standing punching bag with the head and torso of a man. The base is filled with water. Lots of water. The weight of the water makes it really difficult to tip. Damn near impossible while punching. So, I took the soft rubbery top (head and torso) off so I could take (roll) the base to the door and empty the water. Sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? Well, it wasn’t. As I marveled at my ingenuity of rolling the base while I pushed the top away from me…I lost my grip. Wham! I saw stars. Yet, I didn’t feel a thing. Not because I wasn’t hit hard, but because I was hit really hard. So hard that I was lifted off of my feet! That’s when I started laughing. The only problem was that the laughing sounded very distant. Kind of muffled. Then I realized why as the blood spilled onto my white t-shirt I started laughing even harder…and wetter. The thought that occurred to me at that moment was “Now I know how it feels to be a woman wearing white jeans and getting an unexpectedly early period.” That struck me as a really funny thing to be thinking. By the time I reached the bathroom, the warm bright red blood drooled away my laughter. I was looking at a stranger in the mirror. My upper and lower lips were already swelling to balloons. One of my bottom front teeth was just dangling. Yeah, standing there on the other side of the glass was a palooka after helping some up incoming fighter. Except, I hadn’t taken the dive to the mat when I was supposed to. I stood toe-to-toe with a future champ and paid for it. I still couldn’t feel my lips or my teeth. But I knew when I did; I was going to feel much more than I cared for. But, until then, my mind decided to take advantage of the calm before the pain storm. How was I going to explain this? I’m in a show that was to open in just a week. As I said those words out loud, they sounded more like, “Immm Imma Shhhoww dat bazz…” and started laughing again. However, this time, I started to feel it. Then I remembered something some comedian said, “The reason why married men live longer is only because there’s someone there to call 911.” That’s when I laughed until salty tears mixed in with the salty blood. After m y visit to the dentist to fish my tooth off and nearly $300. I find my self feeling glad my whish list to Santa is in writing and not oral.

Transition(s)

Well, I’m done! Completely moved out. I do have to say it was tough. But could have been even tougher had it not been for a really cool housing manager. Now to continue tetrasizing the house I have moved into. Lots of stuff to store. Once that’s done, I really need to take down the pink and peach wallpaper that is in my bedroom. Granted, if I ever meet a woman and she would enter my bedroom, that means she will have looked past the fact that I have children from a previous marriage, am living with 4 dogs, 5 cats and 4 females (2 adult and 2 minors), I think she can look past my having pink and beige walls. Now, to get some beer. 

Milestone

Well, this is my first blog. Naturally, it should be thought provoking. Perhaps even a little controversial in topic. Not for controversy sake. Oh no. But, for the sake of prodding the mentally apathetic. If we could bring about a better world in the process, then I ask you, “why not?” We’ve all heard of M.I.L.F. of course. But what would be the male counter-part to that? D.I.L.F.? F.I.L.F.? I don’t know. Not sure which would be better. Which would convey the proper message? DILFy or FILFy. Such a deep and pensive topic to ponder upon. Of course, I do believe I would be considered one of the two. Assuming that that would be the acronym used. Ah, maybe scholars and historians can unravel the mystery before I cross to the beyond.
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