Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Leper Update

Who's that, smashing baseballs into outer space with the velocity of Sammy Sosa? Sprinting across North America with speed that makes Usain Bolt tremble? Walking on water? Dancing with the stars? Raising the earth on her shoulders, the Atlas of our modern world?


That's right. I'm on steroids.

I fired Dr. Google Health after suing him for unnecessary and near-debilitating emotional trauma, and went to see a new doctor. We'll call him Doctor Love. (??) (I don't even know.) You're right, that's stupid, we'll call him by his real name, Dr. Bryan.

Dr. Bryan took several looks at my twisted, disfigured limbs and diagnosed me with one fell swoop: "Your body is attacking Trey's sperm." I was like, darn. I really wanted to have a baby with the kind of man that refers to his "John Thomas," as in, "I'm thinking I've never seen my John Thomas so hard. At times I felt like it was going to rocket right off." I'M SORRY. I'M SORRY. I know, gross. Where were we? Oh yeah, Dr. Bryan. I was really sick a few weeks ago, and Dr. Bryan says I am now having an "immune response" to the virus. The good news is I will live. The bad news is I may never walk again.

So now I am drinking lots of carrot juice, Kefir, echinacea tea, and gin. I'm also, of course, abusing my steroid cream prescription in the hopes of one day making it into the major leagues.

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You are truly great.