Hi, sweet people! I'm back in the door from my follow-up visit to the surgeon in Houston. All went very well. Well, the trip always kicks my ass, but three hours to get there and three hours to get back SHOULD kick my ass, right?
Dropped another three pounds in six days. Good! I have to remain on liquids only for another week, when I can graduate to pureed soft foods, and then eventually real food. Blecch! Yeah, I'll survive. I just like to whine.
Now, today was just to see how I was doing after the surgery. Have I been puking? Am I sore? Am I still gay?....that kinda thing. The big drag is that I must return four weeks from today to get my first "FILL". This is where they inject saline into the band via a port in my abdomen and through a tube that is connected with the band to make the bladder on the inside of the band expand, creating the small hole that will hold the food I consume going forward in the new "pouch" that the band created. Do you follow that? I swear, I am shit at explaining things.
THAT'S when things get interesting for me. By interesting, I guess I mean complicated. I'll explain more later. I'm pooped.
SO pooped, in fact, that the following happened while on the road back from Houston:
I'm driving along, listening to talk radio and kinda zoning out. Suddenly, I realize the car ahead of me has a bumpersticker on the back that reads this:
Now, I've seen some pretty whacky bumperstickers in my day, but this one made me scratch my head. What the hell does THAT mean? Are the Boy Scouts starting a new program of selling meat in order to raise money for their organization? If so, that's a pretty weird fucking thing to do, if ya ask me. I blinked my eyes and tailgated the car a bit to get closer. In between the two words of the two word sticker there was a little picture of a calf's face.
If it was a joke it wasn't even funny, I decided.
I then wondered if this was some new marketing strategy of NAMBLA, which thoroughly creeped me out. Surely no one would put such a thing on a bumpersticker!
By about this time, the car the sticker was on got annoyed that I was driving up its butt, and started to slow down. Last thing I want to to piss off a pedophile out in the middle of BFE, so I pulled into the next lane in order to pass and ponder this weird freaking slogan.
As I was passing, I shot one last look at the sticker.
Oh! Okay! I get it now! Thank God!
I was really tired.
p.s. - veal is gross. I don't eat the stuff, either.