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It was a simple email from Dr. A. YOUR XRAYS WERE NEGATIVE.
You can't ask for better than that. I was happy and sad at both the same time, and that was due to the fact that it's the lack of exercise that is killing me, not some failure of my lungs or legs. It's a lack of simple stamina. The slow regression that morbidly obese people so easily slide into that causes their bodies to swell like balloons and makes it increasingly harder and harder to exercise at the same time.
I'm on that very same slide. My body is hungry to pack on the pounds. Like some ravenous animal, it is killing and storing foodstuffs in the cavern of my body to the max before some supposed end comes upon it. I could feel the fat climbing upon me, and I just don't think it's for me. Nope. Not for me. So I started exercising again, taking short walks, because I find them quite difficult still, and I'm working to snap my body back into the shape that I had it in at least last year.
I'm certain that I can do this, just like I was certain that I could walk off the pounds last year, which I did. All 20lbs of it. Only to then turn around and allow the body to most likely put 40 more back on. The slingshot effect. Fuck it. I will win this one like I do all the others. I have no problem getting up and fighting. I may not look it, but I am a scrapper. How do you think I lived two years on the streets of the city without a roof over my head, a stove, a refrigerator a bed or dresser.
But the good news. I don't have anything wrong with my lungs. I mean I used to smoke a great deal and I hate for my little fling with cigarettes and other substances to have impaired my future prospects at the old game of survival. I'd much rather see a few more years on this vale of hate before going to somewhere even more dislikable. Yeah, I have no illusions. If there's a Heaven, I'm not going there, and there is nothing and lunatic as limbo or purgatory. And IF there's a Hell, well the way I see life, I think I would be more suited there. Not that I'm a bad person, I just like certain things that, let's face it, I don't think there's a concession stand for it in the heavens.
Such as action movies. I like murder and mayhem on the screen. I'm not a love story chic-flick kind of guy. My ex used to love foreign films, and so did I, but she jumped off the deep end and started getting into these two hour movies of people just looking at one another over cheaply done music. Once, twice, three times and that was enough for me. I was done with it. I guess my reaction to having to endure this shit was to go straight to an explosive, car crashing, tit showing movie. I was done with the stupidity of over-intellectualism. I wanted to see some slugfest, shootout, straight up fucking on the screen to get the taste of foreign films out of my mouth.
Now, I'm very careful as to what foreign films I watch. I mean. I'm not talking about all foreign films here. Don't get me wrong. I'm talking about FOREIGN ART FILMS. They are the ones that have to go bye bye, because they put you to fucking sleep. So I can appreciate not having movie theaters in heaven, if they even have movie theaters in heaven, that play SNAKES ON A PLANE.
This among other things that I like, which you should already know, that I'm not too sure will be available for people when they go to heaven. Like all of 42nd street. It's comforting to me just to know that it's there. I mean, I don't like going there, but one day, when I get normal, I'll be able to skip through the streets and pop into a porn parlor, talk to the whores on tenth avenue, participate in a drug deal. You know, the things that all you tourists would like to see or do but are too chickenshit to.
When I die, I expect things to go back to normal with me, and to that end, I would very much like to be able to do some things that I don't think I can or will be able to in Heaven. Look people, don't get this all twisted. I don't have anything against Heaven. Hey, it must be a cool place. Well, it might not be all that cool because I don't see a lot of people happy to die. But Heaven is probably like a nice, quiet neighborhood in the suburbs, with tree shaded streets, and carefully manicured lawns.
You drive by in your car and there are all these plastic people waving back at you from in front of the doors of their modest homes, wife in one arm, baby in the other. Me, I wouldn't even wave back, but keep on driving, hoping to hit the town limits before dark. Places like that are clear out of some 50s television program or the Twilight Zone. I don't think I would like an eternity without some grade A porn in the basement, bottles of Jack Daniels in the cupboard, a titty bar at the town limits, with strippers giving ten dollar blowjobs in the mensroom.
I gotta have the corner diner that makes the greasy, gonna-kill-you- with-lard ham burgers and cheese and bullshitting friends that get blistering drunk with you and then get behind the wheels of their cars.
Where am I going to find a neigh- borhood like that? In Heaven? In Hell? One thing I am certain of is that it's here on Earth. Maybe that's why people don't want to die. Because these things are right here on Terra Firma. Do you think I blame anyone for wanting to live on? More power to you. As for me, if all the bitches and whores are going to Hell, frankly, I want to be balls deep in them so, well, that's the place for me.
Hobobob
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