Takes More To Be An Anorexic Than This...

Just like it takes more than donuts and Big Macs to be obese...

Note To Self: Won't Someone Donkey Punch My Ovaries?

Note to self, or more specifically, "Alice B. Toklas," (pictured herein) and her counterpart, Gertie (short for Gertrude Stein, not pictured), aka my malfunctioning fluster-cucked ovaries:

You WILL NOT ruin my up-coming vacation by surprising me with a sudden onset of "It's a Small Bloody Clotty Crampy Bitchy World, Afterall."

If needed, I will forcibly remove you BOTH, by myself, with a rusty razorblade and rinse you both out with a bottle of Campho-Phenique, and cauterize you with a disease-laden, half-smoked ciggy snatched from the syphilitic mouth of a local hobo. Then! When I'm done with you, you'll be tossed out of my car, wrapped in a 7-11 Big Bite wrapper, a la John Wayne Bobbitt's lopped-off shweenus, and hopefully eaten by a rabid, feral dog.

You both have been warned, you useless pieces of crap!

Don't F*** With Fat Folks -- We'll Eat Your Children

Three Month Check Up With The Specialist

“On any person who desires such queer prizes,

New York will bestow the gift of loneliness and the gift of privacy.”

E.B. White, 1949

Yet another trip to the specialist, only AFTER a visit to the Mount for a trans AND intra-vag US, which showed some improvement re: the ovaries. Less follicles and a little bit of shrinkage to normal size.

That's the good news.

Bad news, I'm still overweight, still not pregnant. Advised against it at the moment until I can drop some weight. And despite taking a hefty AND totally liquified dump at the specialist, it wasn't enough to prove I lost any weight.

So much for my theory that I'm about one solid bowel movement away from showing any weight loss...

More bad news, I now have an Rx for Lipitor as my cholesterol levels aren't where they should be.

Not necessarily the most life-affirming visit to the doctor, however, he did write me scrips for my blood pressure Rxs, in addition to my metformin and the lipitor.