when we were growing up our next door neighbor was also our pediatrician.

which was super cool for my parents because any time we got sick 'after hours' or in the middle of the night he was, like, right next door. it was super cool for us too because we never had to go to the doctor's office, except for shots or something that involved nurses.

he was a really nice guy, too, he was italian and he had 8 of his own kids.

anyway, one time my brother stuck a bunch of m&m's up his nose. and i mean - he stuck them WAY up there. so my mom was making him blow his nose and trying to get him to sneeze and nothing was working - those things were so deep in his nasal cavity.

and he was crying and whining because it hurt, you know, as having something wedged in your cranium is prone to do.

so we called dr. runco (that's his name) and he came on over to the house in his house slippers and robe. he brought his black doctor's bag with him, like he always did.

(incidentally, i loved that bag. it was worn black leather and had neatly organized pockets inside that were filled with all sorts of cool equipment and supplies. i tried to peek inside it - to see what cool stuff was in there - maybe i'd see a big needle or something. i never did, of course, i'm sure it just had band-aids and other medical minutae, but i still dug it.)

so he got his light out - the one he used to look in our ears and in the back of our throats and he shone it up my whimpering brother's nose for a few minutes, while my mother hovered anxiously nearby.

finally he switched off the light, turned to my mom and said "were they plain or peanut?"

"plain", she said.

"well, then. let them melt".

and he zipped up his bag and went home for dinner.

my brother had chocolate snot for like two days afterwards, the damn kid had a chapped upper lip from all the licking.
true story:

a girl is walking through the streets of boston on her way to work one fine spring morning. she comes to an intersection and stops at the corner to wait for the light to change so she can cross.

next to her, a schoolbus pulls up, full of children on the way to school. she looks up at the school bus windows, smiles, and looks away, perhaps remembering her own childhood.

a voice calls out: "hey!"

she turns back towards the bus, where there are now faces filling the half open windows.

"hey, you!" one small mouth says.

she smiles expectantly.

"you're a WHORE!"

the smile is frozen. did she hear that correctly?

suddenly the children erupt, all of them chanting "WHORE! WHORE! WHORE! WHORE! WHORE! WHORE! WHORE! WHORE! WHORE! WHORE!........."

the light changes. the bus pulls into traffic. and the girl just stands there, unsure of what just happened.


two things you need to know to understand this story:

number one: i was a bad child. not really bad, but pretty rebellious and smart-alecky, always getting in trouble for stupid stuff.

number two: my father has huge feet - size 14 to be exact - and you know what they say about guys with big feet. big shoes, of course! (you perverts.)

anyway - he had really big shoes, which was a great thing when i was like 9 because they provided endless hours of amusement when my brother (he was 7) and i put them on and traipsed around the house, frequently stepping out of them if we moved too fast or lifted our feet too high.

he had this one pair of suede slip on loafer-type shoes that he really liked. they were sort of a grayish blue color and he would always sing 'blue suede shoes' whenever he wore them.

we had strict orders to NOT wear those particular shoes when we played dress-up. any of the others - the running shoes, the hiking boots, the sandals, etc. - were fair game. but NOT the blue suede shoes.

one fine sunny spring afternoon my brother and i decided to take our playing outside, as there was something extra fun about wearing his shoes in the grass - we could fall out of them more dramatically or something.

this particular day i had on some running shoes, and my normally sedate and well-mannered brother had on THE shoes - he was feeling feisty i suppose. and not only was he wearing THE shoes, he thought it would be funny if he picked up the garden hose and squirted me with it.

well needless to say, the hose leaked. THE shoes got wet - and you know what happens to suede when it gets wet. so we did what any normal father-fearing children would do - we ran inside and shoved those shoes as far back in my dad's closet as we could.

well, sad to say, he found them, saw the spots, and promptly spanked me. yes - he spanked ME! and the whole time i kept saying "i didn't do it! it was josh! i didn't do it!"

my chicken-shit brother never said a word until almost 20 years later. but by then it was too late.


i'm never eating again.


today has been pretty sucky.
my foot hurts. i ate too much junk. i feel tired and sad still.
i'm worried about s. and p. (not the 500, my peeps) and so i think i'll get in bed.
i think it is really funny when you think you have to take a huge poop so you go sit on the toilet but it turns out that you just have a little poop in there with a whole lot of air behind it and it just fires out of your butt like a damn missile.

that makes me laugh out loud.

hopefully no one heard me.