I awoke this morning to the feeling of being watched. Opening my eyes to a dark room, I make out a shadowy figure looking right at me. The beady eyes are looking straight into my soul. It’s Simon.

He knows, that I know what time it is. Get up you bastard and feed me, I am waiting quietly. He has yet to start tap dancing since I am now slowly getting out of bed. I guess it’s his way of giving me a reprieve since it is only a quarter to 5 and not the usual 3:30. I used to buy more time in the pre Doug Judy days, when Simon and I would have midnight sandwiches. However, we got in trouble with the vet and had to go on diets.
Well, at least he gets to eat. I begin my fast for the most unholy of procedures tomorrow. I am scheduled to get probed by a witch doctor and starting to get hangry.

Back from the hospital, got to get some of that Michael Jackson dead sleep. Was a bit concerned that I might not wake up, but I was also looking forward to scoring some sushi after. Priorities. There seemed to be a bunch of lead up to getting a colonoscopy and everyone seemed rather laisse faire about the entire situation. I have only been dosed in a clinical setting once, and that was on some laughing gas and a good time was had. Probably the first time I ended up in a parking lot confused with holes in my memory, but defiantly not the last.
So, anyway. I am laying on my side after meeting the gastro and the sleep doc, when I am presented with the milky substance. Anesthesiologist said I would be awake in a second and I felt a calmness wash over me. Kind of a fuck it, guess I did not change the world and what is the worst thing to come out of this. Oh yeah, certification that I got the ass cancer. Well, this turn out to be all unfounded and the darkness within my own head. Next thing I know this gentlemen in waking me up talking about sushi and I am ready. Asking me where he should get some. How the hell did this dude know I was going to get some yellow tail. Confused in the line of questioning, I get to the point. What part of town are you in bro? He told me there an not too many options out in Justin. I vehemently disagree, because who needs sushi when you have the closest allsups to our present location. Beef and bean from a gas station is all you need brother.

He advised it was probably not the best idea after getting the roto rooter treatment. Why not, I have already been accustom to unleashing furry in the bowl for this party.
Well, in short order I am wheeled out to the Tiguan and off to market street for sushi and snacks. With a Hunter S. Thompson-esque attack on the local grocer. Floating and more vulgar than my normal trips to the store. I am drawn to the oddities of weird violently shaped fruit and ultimately one that looks like a sloth. I know, pics or it didn’t happen. I will get back to this when master baster awakes and answers my text, going downstairs is a bridge too far.
Speaking of pics or it didn’t happen. Explaining all this to Dude and Tammy the following day. The one thing that they seemed to gravitate to was the fact that everything was good and I had the pictures on my desk to prove it. Wait, pictures of my colon, my inner void. Those sickos were morbidly curious to see them. I still do not know how to feel about that.
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