No, The Fucking Sun Does Not Shine From Our Behinds...... Morrissey Is Such A Fagot

Excuse the sabbatical from my blog. I have been in recovery once again – this time from a sore and chapped ass. Get your minds out of the gutter. I might be a big homo but didn't shove some freak of nature object up my ass which resulted in its current skinless condition. I've been with some form of virus for the past ten days that has resulted in a volcano erupting out of my asshole. Eat it, shit it – drink it, shit it – think it shit it. Need I continue?

Have you ever noticed when you become sick, everyone around you becomes a fucking doctor? Throw the fact that I suck dick into the equation and suddenly I am ready for the Cleveland Clinic. Yes, a friend even asked me if it was “the AIDS” which is making me so sick. A fagot gets sick for ten days and suddenly it's “the AIDS”? Maybe that H1N1 has complicated “the AIDS”? Add “the AIDS” to all the animals us homo's shove up our asses and holy mother of fuck, time to divide up the Franklin Mint collectables. It's a fucking virus everyone!!!!! Going to a doctor isn't going to cure a virus. Not to mention it is a new year so the insurance deductible has not gotten a dent in it yet.

What's even funnier is being a recovering addict and getting sick. Missing a week of work and staying in bed always equates to binge drinking or drug use. All that time my grandmother laid in that hospital dying of cancer, I really knew the truth – it was one major fucking hang over. Yes, the ambiguous questions fly with cautious verbiage. Give it some thought folks. When is the last time you held someones ass over a toilet from being too fucked up? Fucked up people vomit. I'm sure in some cases they might shit. My guess is they shit in their pants, not in a toilet. If it will put everyone's worry at ease, I will gladly go to work, or come to your home, to prove I am not washing down my favorite pills with a box of Merlot. Once you hear my ass explode in the bathroom, and make the air stink worse than the streets of Haiti, I'm sure all will rest peacefully knowing I am still on the wagon. Oh, and don't forget to pick up one of those home HIV test kits to make sure I am not dying of “the AIDS”.

Then comes the proverbial question to those who are on their death bed at home - “do you need anything?” Why do people ask this question when they really have no intention of actually following through with it? Those who know me will not ask this question – they know I have no pride. If I don't ask for money I will certainly ask for something beyond what your intentions were. Of course I need something. I need a fuck load of “anything” - I've been sick for ten days. First off, clean my damn house. Begin with that vial ass toilet I have been blowing apart for the past ten days. It's not rocket science here, maybe since I have been uncontrollably shitting for ten days, I might need toilet paper restocked. Thankfully I have not had to resort to the never ending white Calvin Kline tees as of yet. My favorite are those who offer to bring you soup and then arrive with the Campbell's Condensed. I must say Campbell's Tomato is good just make sure there is fucking milk in the house. When it's made with water all I can think about are the kids from my school days who were on the government lunch program. Grilled Cheese and Tomato Soup day was always like Sardi's on a Saturday night to them. Unlike the maitre d' at Sardi's, the lunch lady still served the poor kids even though their parents didn't bathe them for the decidable feast. My point is, if you offer soup, don't fucking show up with a can.

On the soup note, I must say not everyone left me to die with my exploding ass. My mother stepped up and sent over a big jar of homemade chicken noodle soup. Of course she didn't actually bring me the soup. My father bought it and followed mothers instructions carefully - he handed it to me through a cracked door. I am certain he returned to his car wiping his hands with the sanitizer wet wipes my mother gave him. We all know how a simple virus can wipe out those old folks. By-pass surgery, hip replacements are no problem. A single virus and they run for cover. A big thanks to Mom!

Currently, I feel my intestines are possibly creating a solid bowl-movement. That should allow me to return to blogging relatively soon. That is of course if I don't get “the AIDS” in the meantime.