In which FHC goes to the doctor's office

As I have been enjoying a huge hypochondriac crisis lately, I went today to see my primary physician. For those of you who know me well, there is nothing that I enjoy more than a day spent talking about myself, bowels movements and testicular and prostate cancer. What’s a better place to complain about your life than your physician’s office? For me paradise is a doctor’s office. He gave me a bagel with cream chesese, prescribed many tests (I even did some really cute tuberculosis related stuff) and I even managed to score a prescription to Clonazepam which will reduce my dependency on Kevin W.’s Ambien stash.

We of course evoked my drinking problem and one’s habit of sleeping on one’s old doormat and it was painful for everybody involved (I blamed it on my mother though). On the sexual side of things I think he had already assumed I was a wh*re. Anyway the guy asked me to stop caffeine, alcohol and dairy products for two weeks for some kind of a little experiment. I negotiated and he agreed that I could wait until Monday (a.k.a when LL and Fagat will be out of town because obviously they won’t be interested in playing the whole let’s-be-sober-and-see-what-happens-game). So here is to another week-end of pitiful decadence.

Comments

la biture express
http://envoye-special.france2.fr/emissions/27265363-fr.php

[Toby]

Restless leg syndrome can be such a bitch!

[Mark H.]

FHC on the wagon for 2 whole weeks? Let's start a pool. I'm betting 20 bucks he won't make it through the first weekend.