** In an unprecedented maneuver, in lieu of a "secret" Thursday
Thanksgiving meeting, we're holding a requested Wednesday Night Social
Club. I guess there's a first for everything.
But read on.
11.4.2015 (first posted this week 2003)
So
I had to submit to a urine test the other day. I'd been accused or
using performance-enhancing drugs during the last Scrabble tournament
I'd won and I had to clear my name. Boy is it a cutthroat world! Anyway,
I don't know if you ever had to pee in a cup for anything other than
normal reasons (?), but when you're a suspect, they treat you a lot
different at the clinic. They're not nice. They're cold, they're quite
rude and their stares burn a hole right through you. The clinician I was
lucky enough to get was as big as a house and scary looking. He
breathed through one nostril and squished his face into a scowl worthy
of a Halloween mask. He ordered me to empty my pockets into a clear,
lucite box. When I'd finished, he spun me around and fuckin'-A FRISKED
me. "Jesus, buddy, watch yr hands," I said. He grunted a shutthefuckup.
When his full-cavity search turned up nothing, he slapped a padlock on
the lucite box and then handed me the box and thrust a piss cup in my
hand. "Go in dere," he said, motioning to a room with a unisex symbol on
the door, "and you gots fifteen seconds only. And yr being watched
through the cameras and such. Don't do nothin' funny or I'm comin' in."
Jesus, I thought, going into the room, no pressure or nothing.
I
managed to fill the specimen cup in the alloted time and capped it. I
opened the door and handed it over to the Neanderthal. "Here ya go, Piss
Man," I said, "now unlock my shit, yo." I thought it was funny to call
him Piss Man. And I aced the test. My pee was squeaky clean, yo. Don't
need dope to throw my BCHSXYZ into _EN_O___AMP_OR_ to spell
BENZOXYCAMPHORS and score 1830 points, yo.
Tonight - The Homestead.
Everyone have a very happy Thanksgiving Holiday!!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
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