An Explanation to Appease Cole And Trab
Apparently Cole and Trab feel like I've failed to deliver a pay-off that has been hinted at concerning my interest/relationship with Mark, a straight co-worker, and the story behind my little trip to the hospital a few days ago where a cute nurse asked me to remove my shirt so he could take a peak at my insides.
As I read that paragraph back, I wonder why they need a further explanation. It seems pretty straight forward to me. My co-worker is straight. So any interest I might have/had toward the fucker is/was a waste of time. Unfortunately, Cole and Trab, my name isn't Paul Harvey and there is no rest of the story. And after everything that transpired that night and the obsessive analyzing I've done ever since, I don't have the strength to write it all down here in my Blog. Sorry, that's all you're going to get about that subject.
On a related note but not really, Mark is no longer curious about gay sex. And much to my chagrin, he now knows, without a doubt in his pretty little head, that he is in fact very straight and happy with his stupid GIRLfriend. Whatever...fuck him right. He wasn't circumcised anyway. And for those of you that have been reading my Blog from the beginning, you'd know about my fear of foreskin. If not, then go back in my Archive and check out the first entry.
So Cole, Trab, I hope this explanation helps in some small way. I hope you're happy about making me go through it all again. Closure, you have it now? You happy?
Jason R.
Oh yeah, POST SCRIP, since I refused to "help" sort out his curiosity, he no longer talks to me. Though I must admit to laughing at the way he walked the next day. Apparently the kid who introduced him to fucking wasn't that gentle in the end. Serves him right I guess, I'm better off anyway.
*rolls eyes*
And just so Cole and Trab won't have a reason to bitch. I'll quickly explain about the hospital visit.
So I quit smoking a few weeks ago. And to help fill that void, I started eating sweets. So the other day, I bought an extra large chocolate bar before I went to work. I ate half the bar but it did nothing for me so I bummed a smoke from a friend and smoked it down right away. It wasn't long before I had trouble breathing and my heart started racing, like I snorted about an eight-ball of cocaine all at once. I freaked out, and rushed myself to the hospital. After telling my story to the doctor and several different nurses, I was told that since it had been a while since I smoked, I had a reaction to the cigarette. This seemed like a probable reason, so I went home and straight to bed.
The next morning, I ate the rest of the chocolate bar and twenty minutes later, I had the same reaction. I went back to the hospital and the only thing that made since was the chocolate. So after a simple test, I found out I couldn't eat chocolate anymore. Which is fine with me, I don't really like chocolate anyway. So it's Monday, I bought a fresh pack of cigarettes and threw away all the candy. And I was told that smoking was going to end my life. Go figure.
Are you two happy now? Did I answer all your questions? Did I?
Cole and Trab: You guys are awesome!
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