Saturday, June 5, 2010

BP 'Top-Killed' My Aching Back

I'm typing this with my feet because my back has gone all Quasimodo. Well, that's a slight exaggeration. I'm typing with my nose and one finger, because they have the greatest flexion. Everything else is locked up.

I feel like BP tried to "Top Kill" me, pumping 20 million tonnes of concrete, drilling mud, golf balls, tires, and broken beer bottles down my neck. But, I can't honestly blame BP, although, clearly, they suck.

Primary liability lies with our electric company. We now have to prune our tree limbs away from power lines. This means one has to look UP for two hours while lugging around a 20-foot lopper with a rope that's just slightly too short to grab when the lopper is at maximum extension, which has to be all the time. Middle-age people should not do this.

Oh, I could blame the man cub, because the tree trimming was preceded by cleaning the church, washing the car, picking up 9,000 pounds of moosedawg poop, and mowing the yard - all his duties. But since Junior is gainfully employed today, I shan't blame him. Maybe.

And I can't really blame the 100-pound moosedawg. He is a freak of nature who poops - volume-wise - five time more than he eats. He produces more sludge than BP, plus his special "Good morning!" stomach bile puke and an infinite amount of barks. (Don't EVER ask me to adopt another dog from the pound).

And now, back spasms and shooting neck pains are replacing the Top Kill achey stiffness. So it's either take two .357 bullets and call the doctor in the morning, or swallow OTC meds and take an uber-hot bath... And the bath wins, but this requires blame to be placed. Save us from women on economy sprees.

Bar soap is now out, and the pump thing is in. The first one was actually OK. It pumped a soap-like product, but of course that could not last. The bottle was not pretty and the soap-like substance was not NATURAL.

Now we have natural exfoliating body wash WITH KIWIFRUIT. It is green and filled with 10 billion little black exfoliators. They look too small to be kiwifruit seeds, and none are stuck between my teeth. Honestly, they look like fleas. Floating, dead fleas. That would be the ultimate irony. After spending hundreds of dollars last year to nuke a flea invasion, we are IMPORTING dead fleas in natural body wash to exfoliate away our flesh. Naturally.

So to review:

o my neck and back feel like BP gave me a Top Kill
o the pain is directly traceable to the electric company, the moosedawg, and Junior who, alas, I must blame.
o a crippled middle age man should not have to soak his Quasimodoed body in a three-quarter size bathtub (wife's fault), or scrape away his flesh with kiwifruit seeds or dead fleas (also wife's fault).

Alas, industrial strength Ibuprofen has replaced mother's milk and adult beverages as the chemical of choice in our home. Middle age tends to suck.

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