Jenkies, the dreaded Round 3 of chemo is tomorrow. I’m on steroids. My dog’s on steroids. Now there are two bitches in the house. Good thing the kids are just dying to use their new “time out” superpowers. They’re so going to need them. Each chemo round, the elevator drops lower and lower, making it harder to pull myself back up. We’ll see how it goes this time. I’ll have my buddy Sari in there with me. She’s a chemo virgin, but soon she’ll be a chemosapien, too. I thought about bringing some ’70s porn, just so she knows chemo doesn’t have to be that boring. Oh yeah, I don’t have any ’70s porn, only ’80s. Did porn stars wear leg warmers and nothing else?
1- I do not own any ’70s, ’80s or millennium porn.
2- I’ve got the whole pour-over coffee thing figured out. I found out what it means at Cellar Door Coffee in SE. Take notes: Coffee is essentially bald. So a pour over is like the caffeine version of a comb over.
3- My bud LG is taking me to chemo tomorrow. We’ve known each other since the early ’80s when I sported bangs that looked like a dorsal fin. Hope he forgets about that by tomorrow.