Monday, October 13, 2008

The Google Searches for Dog Sex Are All Going to Point To This Post

I am not sure why no one ever told me that you should not donate blood on an empty stomach. I have heard of may food related rules, including but not limited to:
  1. Never grocery shop on an empty stomach or you'll find yourself with twelve packs of Little Debbie snack cakes, and fourteen pounds of T.G.I.F. frozen quesadilla roll ups. Which of course is a satisfying diet for a crack addict but maybe not one for someone who could probably stand to lose a few nine hundred pounds like myself.
  2. Always wait thirty minutes after eating before swimming. Otherwise you will more than likely sink to your death, and as you drown instead of having your life flash before your eyes all you will see is that roasted chicken leg with a side of mashed potatoes that you just consumed.
  3. Never drink dairy products with seafood. I'm not sure if this one is actually true or if my parents just paraded it around as such because if you think of it, it really is an awful combination. And I'm sure when I'm a parent I'll say the same because there's no way I'm cleaning up fish sticks and 2% milk out of the new berber carpets me and the future wife just had installed last month. Actually come to think of it I doubt I'll ever serve my children fish sticks, because they are in fact disgusting.

But oddly enough no one ever mentioned the food rule that could potentially cause me bodily harm some two decades later when I go to donate blood for the second time in that last three months. No one said, Jordan make sure you eat a hearty meal beforehand or you will more than likely pass out. Actually, come to think of it my parents didn't say anything about me donating my platelets other than the fact that they think the thought of giving up your blood to someone else is horrible. I swear my mother acts as if instead of helping someone with my precious O positive I'm going to the LifeShare office to get free heroin.

But I digress no one told me of the unforeseen perils of donating without eating. So six hours later I'm still feeling nauseous, and dizzy. And in the haze of my low blood sugar I just cannot help but feel like something isn't right in my world. I feel like I'm always getting knocked down, and just as I pick myself up again someone throws a discarded banana peel from a 1920's vaudeville act under me, and I'm back on the ground. Sometimes it feels like the world is trying to show in dominance over me by humping my leg like an oversexed German Sheppard.

Actually that raises an interesting point right there. Have you ever actually seen two dogs have sex? First of all it's disgusting, but also it's hilarious. Because it's almost never two dogs of roughly the same size. No it's always this Rosie O' Donnell sized mammoth of a dog humping the ever living shit out of a Olsen twin sized one. But beyond that, the one doing the heavy thrusting usually always has the audacity to lose interest half way through and starts to look bored. You can almost see the motherfucker pantomime looking at his watch to check the time, it is ridiculous.

But that is exactly how I feel the universe has been treating me lately. So I just want the universe to know that yes, I get it. You are the alpha male, I don't need you to dry hump my leg or pee on me to mark your territory. I get it, you are in total control. you will decide if I have a bad day, or an amazing day, or if I die tomorrow. It is all up to you, and I am just a mere pawn in your bigger plan. I am simply a mere peasant trying to run amok in your playground and I'm sorry for that. I will try not to get in your way any longer. I will step aside and let you do your dirty to me as long as you can make me a promise that soon this will all stop. That one day soon I will be able to stand up once and for all and have no fear of being knocked back down again. So if you swear that eventually that will happen for me, you can get your rocks off on me as often as you like. Just promise not to do it on my favorite pair of jeans. I'd imagine dog semen is hard to get out of denim.

Editor's Note: I have no idea how I went from the rules of donating blood to talking about dog sex. So please just excuse me on that one, won't you?

1 comment:

Kelli said...

There's a blood drive going on at our campus next week, and I feel really guilty when I don't donate. Now I'll still feel guilty, but I'll also think of dogs having sex. Thanks, Jordan.