digging shit

Oh my god. Rain. Winter. Doom. Gloom.
Its all coming down. Where did summer go?
Where did the fucking days of sun and joy disappear to?

Nah, I'm just joking. The weather is shit, but I'm lookin up. Pretty much, I'm lookin forward to getting a new hair cut.
I really just needed an excuse. How else am I going to justify cutting up the hair on my head and the chin straps that I've been rockin for the last 4 or 5 years? Only cancer can give you that kind of excuse.

Okay, let me confess why I'm writing today. My last post was really good, and I don't think I can out do it. So I've been putting off posting anything day after day after day. I've seen this happen before. Some guy starts all ambitious and writes for like 5 days in a row and then one day he just stops, and theres like a week of silence. Then he comes back, and he's like, "I'm sorry I haven't been posting lately, just I've been busy." Fuck that. No one cares. Thats the thing with writing, you either do it or you don't. No ones going to sit there and be like, awww geee why don't you write anymore? There are no epitaphs for bodies never born. I just made that up on the spot. Look how clever I am.

Okay, so in case you haven't figured it out by now, in order to write, I need to start over with something really unimpressive. Like this rambling pointless entry about nothing. Gotta face the facts, its not all going to be gold, but you're not gonna find anything at all if you stop digging. Look how clever I am.

If this is going to be a shitty journal entry I might as well go all out. Next week I start 9 weeks of chemo, and the thing most on my mind is how I can pull off the bald look. I want this hair style change to be a choice, not an unfortunate necessity. I bought some sunless tanning foam. It's probably going to turn me orange. Whatever, I'll try anything.

My oncologist says I'll be getting some drugs that are going to make me feel drunk all day long. FINALLY! That oxycodone shit wasn't fun at all. I'm excited to get some treatment that might actually be fun. We'll see.

Nother reason I haven't written shit is because I have a really good story to tell. You see, I think I'm pretty good at pulling good writing out of shit. But when something actually DOES happen? Thats when I drop the ball.

Remember how I said going to the sperm bank was the least fun you can have with your pants off? Well, I figured out a way to make it fun. I highly recommend the following:
Download lots of porn. Put it on your laptop. Bring it to the clinic.
Thats what I did.
Theres absolutely no reason you should have to put up with one or two porno mags as your only inspiration. It's not like they search you before you enter the room. You can bring whatever you want. Although I recommend bring headphones with you. Otherwise, they might wonder whats going on in there.

I also got a chance to talk to the main doctor at the clinic, where I confessed what she could be doing to make things better. That's another strange phenomena about the clinic, 95% female staff. Guess guys don't want to be touching jars of semen all day. The problem is, girls don't know shit about masturbation . What's really interesting is, at the clinic you will never hear the words, "masturbate," "cum," or "ejaculate." Instead you hear sperm, semen, and collection. The nurse actually told me, "Come find me after you collect." I think I'm going to start using that word.
IE. I accidentally collected in her eye. etc.

Anyways, I told the doctor about how bad the process was.
"You really took the fun out of masturbation. Thats difficult."
She said she knew, but they had no budget to spend on providing masturbation materials. So I told her, well, you can just tell people to bring their own materials. She looked at me thoughtfully and said, "That's a very novel idea!"
I left the clinic with some self satisfaction, knowing that the wheels of reform were in motion.

Note: I had been drinking before I wrote and posted this. I guess I'm not going to get that book deal now. Fuck it.