Category Archives: humor
My parents are going out. One is talking to me from outside my bedroom window, while the other is outside my door.
They’re talking simultaneously.
Mom from outside – “Are you working today?”
Me – “No!”
Mom – “Close your window. Somebody can stick their hand in there.”
Dad – “What are you doing today?”
Me – “Working on my member clients.”
Mom and Dad – “What?!”
Me – “I’m organizing my member clients!”
Mom – “Oh I can’t hear her.” Mom says in a huff.
Dad – “Cassius is here to keep you company.”
Mom – “I think your other window is open on the other side too. Someone can get their hand in there!”
Dad – “Make sure to lock the door if you leave.”
Mom – “Your screen isn’t down on the other side.”
Mom – “It’s not locked.”
Me – “Can someone stick their hand in there?”
I have today off. May the Gods part the heavens and rain blessings upon me for my one scheduled client canceled and I washed sheets yesterday.
I want to buy something. Something big. Like finally getting my Playstation 4, or a new MacBook, or an iWatch.
I’m saving the iWatch for when I retire. It’s the perfect parting gift to celebrate 10 years of hard manual labor massaging people’s asses. I literally used elbow grease to massage people’s backsides for 10 years. I think I deserve a watch.
I told my weekly client yesterday that I’m retiring from massage once I reach 200 members. Telling clients about my retirement makes it more definite. It’s makes it feel closer to happening.
It’s annoying when people think I love massaging since I’ve been going at it for so long. Now whenever they give off the impression that I may like it, I quickly retaliate with saying I’ll be retiring at 200 members because no, no I don’t like it. And it’s annoying that you assume that I do.
I’m hoping it will happen in 3 months, my retirement.
I’m thinking about changing my name to MelAnus. It’s close enough to Melanie so my parents won’t care too much. And once it’s changed, I’ll switch the name of my blog to MelAnus Discharge. Pretty cool, huh? Thought of it meself. Actually thought of it as I was typing it.
Because, well, let’s be honest here. What I spew into my blog is no different then relaxing my bowels but man I tell you what, I enjoy both.
Enough small talk, I wanted to share with you my epiphany I had earlier.
I thought long and hard (while relaxing my bowels) about my curious “innocent” nature and it has nothing to do with me trying to cover up a demon – I love my demon actually, and recently wrote about him.
No, I’m not actually innocent. I’m stupid! People mistake my stupidity for innocence which only means that those people are just as stupid as I am.
I’m glad I got that off my chest. Acknowledging and accepting my stupidity makes me feel closer to inching my way onto one of the more specialized secular branches of the category tree. I have fellow brothers and sisters who will laugh beside me and hold my hand – I am not alone.
And maybe I am fearless, but it’s only because I’m stupid – I don’t think, only do. MelAnus do do. It all makes sense now.
It makes me feel so much better by knowing myself. Like finally getting a diagnosis for a horrendous rash on your genitals. The itch will now stop.
So yes, I am playing spa owner. Not because I want to enrich the lives in my community, but because I want to be rich and not have to work.
Okay, other than that, last night I hit my peak of fear and today I woke up bright-eyed and chipper thanks to my buoyant nature or what some like to call, being bi-polor.
Why was I at the height of my fear? Have you ever owned a business?
Let me break it down for you, when your business starts siphoning money from an already depleted well, you’re going to hear a sucking sound. And that sucking sound will follow you around everywhere you go. Every thought that you have, every loose dollar you spend.
“I think I’ll get a dunkin iced coffee today! Oh wait….” Suck suck suck. Your chest caves in.
You may not believe me, but it’s like going through a bad breakup, or a divorce – your heart smolders in satanic ashes, you breathe like you only have a quarter of your lung capacity left.
Nothing else matters. All else is nonsense.
You basically lose yourself. You lose yourself to the environment that you placed yourself in.
When you lose yourself, there is no joy there. But on the flip side, others may feel that when they “lose” themselves, they’re free. They’re at their happiest. But they haven’t actually lost themselves per se, no, they found themselves.
As a proud member of the Stupid category, I’m adequately happy pretty much all of the time. I let loose and I’m able to be myself – I’m not one that gives a fuck (just watch me dance). What I’m trying to say is that I found out who I was a very long time ago but the seriousness of the world sucked it out.
It made me feel insecure, unsafe, unwanted. I’m not “professional” or “responsible” is what I hear. The world can do that people. To just about everyone.
And now with my business hanging on the brink, it pushes me further away.
When you’re being yourself, you live in the moment. I know this for a fact and not just by listening to the Power of Now but I’ve lived this way for years! That is, before I started to “grow up”.
Everyone’s got it wrong. Don’t ever grow up.
I’m a believer in choice. Ayahuasca told me there is ALWAYS a choice. And with this belief, comes answers. Where there’s a choice, there is always an answer.
I woke up today happy because I remembered that there’s always an answer. You only have to believe and do everything it takes and I mean everything.
Shit takes its toll. Worse than going in circles over the GW bridge (which is one of my humiliating traditions).
When you see the answer, bam, you’re back to your normal self. But sometimes you see your answer and it doesn’t register right away. It may take a while until you fully see it.
“No no that’s too outlandish, it will never work.” Then you sit on it for a while and you wake up one day and say, “That’s it! Why have I waited so long?!”
Perhaps you have to be your normal self in order to see your unique answer?
What is my normal self? Well, I forgot for a long time who I was until I recently remembered that I’m part stupid.
How do you know who your normal self is?
Okay, I figured out how to do this and I’m sure it’s different for everyone so I made it into a one question quiz. For me personally, the answer was stupidity – this answer frees me. For you it might be something completely different.
Okay, here’s the first and only question: What are you most afraid of?
And I don’t mean bears or zombies, no, I mean, what are you afraid of being? Right at this very moment?
This is a tricky question because I don’t want you to get confused with consequences or end result answers like, “I’m afraid of being alone.”
Being alone is an end result answer, not a present moment way of being. Or, “I’m afraid of living with regrets” , “I’m afraid of being poor”,”I’m afraid of not being a good provider.”
Those are all end result stuff, future stuff. I mean your quirks, your secret personality defects, your flaws – the really good stuff.
By finding out exactly what you’re afraid of being and then committing yourself to becoming what you’re afraid of then guess what happens? The fear of it completely dissolves and what you’re left with is your pure untainted identity.
By accepting my stupidity and sharing it with others, I’m completely free.
When I smoke pot around people, depending on who I’m with, I can see these types of fears in others. I can see how it holds people back, causes them to manipulate, get offended, skirt the truth – I see it!
The way out is in. It’s to embrace. If you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to trust me on it.
Rational Brain – “What about rapists, pedophiles, or people with an urge to kill? You want them to embrace their weaknesses?”
That’s not who they really are, it’s more like a compulsion they have, or a need. Like smoking cigarettes or doing drugs, it satisfies a craving. It’s a brain problem.
Rational Brain – “You have a bullshit answer for everything, don’t you?”
It’s not bullshit, I read an article. It’s actually really sad.
But anyway, that’s how you find yourself. By finding out what you’re afraid of being and becoming it by choice. If you don’t do it by choice, it will happen without your choice and I promise you it WILL happen.
And if you do this correctly, you don’t actually become your fear. You eliminate it. And by eliminating it, nothing holds you back anymore. You’d be fully present and I’d be able to smoke pot around you.
I guess it’s hard to explain.
It’s 1AM and I told myself I was going to exercise tomorrow before work. I have to friggin sleep.
Before I go, I just want to say that I don’t think I’ll be blogging for a while. At least, not until I whip my business back into shape. I just hate writing the same morose things over and over again. I hate whining.
You want to hear something disgusting? I saved my dental floss! I flossed my teeth with it and put it aside for next time. Where is it? Oh, I think it’s on the floor now. Okay, I’ll throw it out. But I just wanted to demonstrate to you just how much in the dog house I am.
My mom today gave me toothpaste, toilet paper, shampoo, and socks.
Me – “Thank you for these gifts!”
And I really REALLY meant it.
“I won’t have to darn my socks this winter!”
I can’t believe I wrote so much. All I wanted to tell you was that I’m going to take a break from writing for a while.
To wrap things up, I just want to reiterate that living in the present moment requires you to eliminate all fear. Eckhart Tolle, in his book The Power of Now, tells you to live presently and your fears will wash away by themselves, but I like my way better. My way of confronting your fear is better. If you don’t confront it, you’ll have no awareness of it and soon enough you’ll become that what you hate most.
My brain works swiftly when I’m in the present. I’m less jumpy and I feel smarter. Almost impenetrable, like nobody has any negative affect on me whatsoever.
I miss that feeling.
How do I get it back? Two ways in conjunction: By remembering there is always a choice and because a choice exists, I will find an answer. And secondly, by embracing what it is I’m afraid to be.
MelAnus is done discharging for tonight.
I’m finding myself with more and more free time these days, although, I’m broke so it’s not like I can do anything or go anywhere (which is fine by me), and I still get a few sporadic clients who request me during the week so I can’t make plans easily even if I do only work one hour a day.
Which is fine by me since I’m broke anyhow.
And when I do have a client, let’s say at 6 o’lock in the evening, I spend the whole day being cranky in anticipation of massaging that one client. I wake up late out of spite, I watch anime to help me feel better, ignore the world around me and sulk until 6 o’clock when I massage that one client. Then I return home in exhaustion and watch even more anime.
Here’s a list of Japanese words I learned:
Sigoy – Awesome
Itadakimasu – let’s eat
Kaza – Mother
Doza – Father
jawnney – see you later
Yadayada – God help us
Hello – Kinichiwa
Thank you – Arigoto
Sorry – Komenesai
Good Morning – Ohio
Stupid – Baka
Don’t you know – dattebayo
Nanee – What?!
(Spelling doesn’t count)
I’ll update this list as my vocabulary grows. I practice speaking them with my Japanese client.
Today was one of those precarious days where I had no clients. All I had to do was charge my member clients and pick up a sheet of vinyl at either an art store or hardware store for our shirodhara treatments (so the oil can drip down into the copper vessel without getting everywhere). I ended up at an art store and after finding exactly what I needed, I picked up a pair of large googly eyes and velcro’d them to the hood of my car.
“There, that’s better.”
On my ride home I wondered to myself, “now what?” “No money, I feel too defeated to want to call anyone, what do I do with myself?”
I can’t concentrate on more than one thing at a time. That’s why it’s imperative for me to have a To Do List to avoid getting overwhelmed, but what if there’s nothing left for me to do? At least, nothing more I can do for today, anyway.
There are two things that I have my heart set on accomplishing:
1) My art idea (which is such an awesome idea that I must keep it a secret)
2) My book
Since I can only focus on one thing at a time, I must choose only one of these things. After much deliberation, I chose to focus on my book. Mainly because my art idea costs far too much money at this moment.
I found my main character, Frankie (short for Frances), she’s abnormally tall and thin with frizzy red hair, an overbite, horrible rosacea and acne. She lacks intelligence and has no major talents or qualities that stand out other than being tall and ugly.
That’s my main character, Frankie. I laugh just thinking about her. I picked the name Frankie because my Gramps, Dad, and brother are all named Francis and it means “The Free One.” It’s kind of perfect for the story.
Normally during downtime such as this, I’d be playing a video game. But thanks to my financial status, I can’t afford one.
Anyway, I’m going to focus on my book and by doing so, I must *read* books. But I gotta say I feel a bit guilty for laying around listening to audiobooks all day. Can this truly be productive?
Frankie – “Productive is what productive does is what momma always said.”
You think you’d be a good protagonist?
Frankie – “I don’t know, you gave me such a big over-bite that I’d probably be better off eating apples or opening beer bottles with my teeth all day.”
I’m glad you can laugh at yourself.
Frankie – “I’m not laughing, I’m pissed! You make me sound like a brain defunct Carrot Top!”
Oh god, my protagonist already hates me…..
Frankie – “You called me ugly!”
Pipe down! You’re a fictional character in my head.
Frankie – “But you have to treat me like a 3-dementional being with thoughts and feelings in order to pull off writing a compelling novel.”
You’re not really stupid, are you?
Frankie – “People only think that because I look stupid.”
Shut up before I give you a Mike Tyson Lisp.
Maybe a fiery redhead isn’t the best idea here…..
After I get done with my book of the month, I’m going to listen to book one of Harry Potter. I never read book one and I need pointers on writing in third-person format which JK nails.
I better hop to it – laying around listening to audio books! At least I can go for a hike or rollerblade too while I’m at it.
You know, in an askew way, my blog is like a To Do list. It makes me feel like I’m in control. Anyway, I can’t really explain it, but I like to keep everything in one place and having a blog does that.
Frankie – “How do you think the unthinkable?”
Frankie – “With an itheburg!”
I didn’t actually give you a Mike Tyson lisp. You can stop that.
Frankie – “You know what a good idea for a story is?”
Frankie – “What we’re doing right now. Having a dialog like this. Then you’ll start putting me in weird situations to form somewhat of a plot, and I don’t like the weird situations so I tell you off.”
Frankie – “The more I tell you off, the angrier you get. So you get back at me by putting me in an even worse situation than before.”
Where’s the plot though?
Frankie – “I find the writer who’s writing YOU!”
Huh, that is kind of a cool idea. Holy shit, did I just come up with that or did you?
Frankie – “HellOOoo, I’m a 3-dementional character, remember? I came up with it.”
My mind is fully scrambled.
I’m supposed to be furnishing the room upstairs so we can start doing spa treatments up there. My broken armed therapist is on my tail.
Broken armed therapist – “I went up there today to see how it looked and it’s a disaster!”
I gave one massage earlier today and went to Koels to buy curtains for the new room and now here I am. Laying in bed with my dog and my laptop on my lap while watching Knights of Sidonia on Netflix.
I ate lunch and decided that’s it, I’m in for the night. I love being in for the night! So what if it’s 3 o’clock on a beautiful Friday afternoon. So what if I got shit tons of shit to do?
My dog farted.
This is the holiday weekend. I’m taking a break. And my friend offered to help hang up my curtains next week, so I’ll just get everything done then. It ain’t much and I bought everything I need already.
This is true peace for me. It’s bliss. Now only if my dog can shut up and stop hogging the bed.
It’s the beginning of the month and my business is once again killing it. My projected income this time next month is $2,000 more than what I started with this month, $4,000 more than what I had in the bank this time last month.
I’m slowly gaining back my composure but…..
This is a big but…..
My employee’s get paid THREE times in July! This means that I need an extra $3,000 in the bank so I can pay them.
I even out.
I completely even out. Not only do I even out, but I’ll be back in the red-zone. The zone of despair. Nicking away at my personal line of credit.
My broken armed therapist will be performing shirodhara treatments soon. One of our regular clients told me about them. I won’t go into detail about shirodhara, but It sounds wonderful and my therapist is stoked to do them. So that should help me out a bit in the money department.
I have yet to do my humiliating marketing stunt. It’s been a full week since I started my new “work” schedule (which consists of no work), but each day I find myself busy.
Today I taught my niece how to drive. No one wanted to teach her because they’re all scared, so I volunteered to do it.
Me – “Have you ever met a really stupid adult?”
Alexis – “Yeah.”
Me – “Stupid people are everywhere and guess what? They all have licenses!”
Alexis – “That’s true.”
Me – “If they’re allowed to drive, you can definitely do it.”
She has trouble taking right-hand turns and knowing when she has the right away. Sometimes coming to a complete stop at intersections.
I had to give her lots of encouragement. And to be honest, I love my car but I know it won’t stay new looking forever. I’m not scared of a few dings and dents.
Me – “There you go you got this!”
Me – “Supurb, magnificent. I wish I had gold stars to give you.”
I made her park, back-in, K-turns, drive on the main road, drive to her house, drive to my friends house, drive on the highway and then to the mall.
Alexis – “Driving is actually fun! I like it. I don’t know what I was so afraid of before.”
Me – “Just imagine what else you can do. You can do anything.”
I sound like an awesome aunt, right? Well, all this was happening while I drank beer in the passenger seat and held on to the “oh shit” handlebar above the door.
Me – “You’re a rockstar, look at you go!”
While back at home…..
My bedroom was on fire.
My mom calls my cell – “You are in so much trouble! So much trouble!”
Me thinking that she spotted me with a beer while Alexis drove my car – “What did I do?”
Mom – “Your bedroom was completely lit up in flames!”
Me – “Wha..?”
Oh shit, the candles…..
I bought 2 candles from Amazon the other day, one for prosperity and the other for abundance. I lit them both while waiting for Alexis to get here and I forgot to blow them out. They had paper sleeves wrapped around them with prayers on them, that’s what caught on fire. The paper sleeves.
Mom – “I never saw your father so panicked. He ran around searching for the fire extinguisher like a mad man. I never seen him like that.”
Me – “How bad is it?”
Mom – “I haven’t been down there to see but there’s so much smoke up here.”
My broken armed therapist and my esthetician were talking the other day about these special prayer candles and how well they worked, and me being the impressionable type, bought them immediately.
But they DID work before setting my room ablaze. I made $326 dollars today for doing absolutely nothing.
I want to buy more but my mom says I’m not allowed to have candles in my room anymore.
The damage? Nothing really. There’s a black smoke ring on my ceiling above where the candles where lit, and a thin layer of ash on my dresser. I just smudged a smily face in the center of the black circle on my ceiling.
It’s now about a week later. It’s raining and I’m laying in bed with my electronic cigarette.
I can’t stop looking at my bank account.
It’s about another week later and I can’t stop looking at my big toe.
Last year in August, almost one year ago today, I got myself a pedicure in Ecuador. Now, this pedicure is unlike any pedi I had before. It was on par with a medieval torture apparatus (I have super sensitive feet), but the polish she used was incredible. Incalculable lasting strength! If my nails never grew, they would still look as fresh as the day they were painted.
She used acrylic nail polish.
I send updates about my big toe to the girl I got the pedicure with. She’s the same girl I went to Thailand with. To be honest, I’m going to be sad when the last of it grows out. And I think Brianna will be sad too.
Another week later.
Today was my humiliating walk of shame day. My last resort day basically. I walked up and down route 10, the busiest street in my hometown, to promote my business. I was wearing this:
[Image removed due to creepy calls at my business]
Yes I was Iron Man. No no no, strike that. I AM Iron Man.
The costume is meant for a 6ft male, so everything hung askew including the helmet. I had to keep adjusting myself as I walked so I wouldn’t trip over my own feet.
Nobody does shit like this where I live. Nobody.
All I thought about was my brother driving by and throwing his milkshake at me out of his car window like Daryl did to Prince Akeem in Coming to America.
Here’s the thing, my business is doing splendid lately. I’m not just breaking even anymore, but gaining momentum. Not a lot of momentum, but there’s some.
Only for it to be taken away next month when my employee’s get paid 3 times instead of 2. Plus I’ll need to pay my quarterly taxes pretty soon.
There’s no end to this. Even with the numbers we’re pulling in this month, it’s still not enough to cover the cost of owning a small business with a receptionist.
But I can look at it this way; this time last year I was working non-stop, still broke-ass as shit and I had a quarter of the members as I do today.
Me last year – “I don’t care how broke I’ll be. I HAVE to stop massaging. I’ll pay whatever it takes to not have to massage anymore.”
And here I am one year later with 9 clients on the books this week. Between Monday-Sunday, I have to work a total of 9-15 hours as opposed to 30-40. And I hired my friend to clean the bathroom once a week, take out the trash and fill the lotion bottles.
This would have been an impossibility last year.
Anyway, I’m tired.
I’m going to do it again tomorrow. My Iron Man walk of shame. At least I get to exercise while marketing my business at the same time!
Iron Man don’t give a shit what people think of him. He does what needs doing.
What’s this you say?
Yes a poem
A daft and drafty space
for me to poop on
It’s got no reason
no heartfelt soliloquy
So eat your damn hotdog
with grey poupon silly
I think, but I’m not sure, but yes I do think that this may be the beginning of my idleness. The door is open and I’m limping out into the sunlight and what do I see? A world of slow moving, dilly-dallying ice-cream drippers. A life of no pressure. A life where you don’t need to eat the ice-cream before it melts.
It’s running down the back of my hand
Creamy cold sticky sweet
My mouth is covered in white
And my shirt is speckled with drops
I’m talking about melty ice-cream….
My body aches
my shoes untied
disheveled and weary
my brain is fried
Alas this is no more!
I taken myself off
the work schedule-ore!
Yeah, I’m not on the schedule at work anymore. I am strictly by request only. I can’t retire altogether from massage, at least not yet I can’t. But I can make it damn hard to book with me.
This by no means portends that I’m out of hot water. It just means that I’m done. Physically, I’m done. But the hot water is certainly still there.
Burning my feet
red as a beet
I jump out onto cold-
ice but it’s sleek
Thin and brittle it cracks
I bess’ be watchin’ my ass
so I jump on a rock
with a hard place above
and I pound on my confinement and yell
“WHAT THE FOCK?”
I’m in hot water, I’m on thin ice, I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Where the hell are my parents? It’s past midnight. I just ate a cold tube of kielbasa out of a plastic baggy. I’m all alone here.
My parents are probably at the cottage in Rhode Island living it up with my brother and his girlfriend. One big party. While I’m home playing a video game that I already beat and stuffing my face with cold tubes of kielbasa.
Just give me a minute world…..I’ll join you soon. Not yet, but soon. It’s just that you’re so damn demanding of my time that I’d rather hide from you.
My new goal is to garner 50 more members. I’ll be high rolling it biggie style with gold teeth and shit if I had 50 more members.
My member count now? After getting rid of the members with declined credit cards and who haven’t been in for a while, my total active member count is 147. Earlier today, before abolishing the non-paying members, it was 154.
Fuck this shit I swear. I’m sick of this member count shit. I’m sick of all this shitty shit that goes on in my head.
Shitty shitty bang bang
in my head
splat goes the sound
of my brains on the ground
Burp fart giggle wriggle
it lies there to jiggle
Shitty shitty bang bang
in my head
What I’m really sick of? Massaging people. But you know that already.
I don’t care if you’re handsome
I don’t care if you’re nice
I don’t care if you’re clean
and don’t carry lice
You want me to rub you
and the pain starts in my ass
that I proclaim royal
It’s not personal,
I’m sure you’re grand
It’s just that I’d rather do
something else with my hand
Um, okay, now there’s a weird unexplained noise I’m hearing.
It’s pouring outside.
Oh It’s my parents that just got home. Where the hell did they go?
The casino of course.
It’s so weird, when I wrote my last post I was a depressed mess and now I’m looking back on it like it never happened. It’s almost like the person who wrote that post is not me – the person I was, but not anymore.
When did I write it? Was it yesterday? I tell ya, when I let go, I really let go.
I don’t want to dive into that crap anymore. It’s useless crap. And figuring out why things happen and how to overcome stupid shit is also useless.
There’s something about that thing I wrote at the end tho, the “no effort” part. That’s about the only part that isn’t entirely useless.
It’s the dwelling that’s pointless. Dwelling that my brother won’t speak to me because I’m trying to build up my business that was inevitably going to happen? Why? Why dwell?
Honestly, it was inevitable. He should’ve known that and he shouldn’t have bought a spa next to mine.
Anyway, I think I’m all rhymed out for now. It takes me less time to think up rhymes than it does to actually write normally.
I will join the world soon though. Right after I get all the members I need. I have plans. Big plans to make it happen as soon as possible.
Peace out trouts,
Stomach cramps to the extreme, enrolling in Husky, and trying to sue a woman for slander all in today’s post
10 years ago I got really sick and sent to the ER for eating an entire loaf of beer battered bread drenched in french onion dip dressing made by the company Tastefully Simple.
You see, I attended a Tastefully Simple party one evening while I was famished and I ate small sample’s of their beer battered bread dipped in french onion dip and loved it so much (because everything tastes amazing when you’re hungry), that I went on ahead and ordered some to make for myself and well, I’m a child when it comes to it. I can’t feed myself properly.
Anyway, I ended up at the ER with a lousy doctor having no bedside manner telling me I can end up with a colostomy bag and my intestines partially removed. She said I should get biopsied to see if anything’s cancerous because apparently my insides are a mess.
Well, none of that happened. I never got a biopsy and never had any part of my intestines removed. I did however, get a bill for over $2000 which taken me stacks of time and paperwork to finagle myself out of paying it.
Long story long, a few days ago my tummy started up again with the incessant cramping, extreme fatigue, muscle aches and nausea. It feels like menstrual cramps, but they’re not.
And so like the responsible adult that I am, I called up my landlord whining to him like a baby and asked him to sign me up to Husky because I don’t know how to do it myself and I might die if I wait any longer or worse, have my intestines removed and have to defecate into a bag around my leg.
My landlord helps people sign up for health coverage, it’s one of his many little services he offers. But there was a bit of transference happening, I ain’t gonna lie. The guy cares about me and has a ton of experience dealing with sick people. He was very fatherly to me over the phone and I LOVE when people do that. Because, well, I am a child.
And so now I’m a proud member of Husky healthcare. The insurance for poor people which covers EVERYTHING. They can provide me with food stamps and cell phone coverage if I deem it necessary (which I don’t).
My landlord said that I have to take advantage of it now before I start making money next year because Obamacare is way worse than Husky with their high deductibles and selected doctors.
I laid in bed for most of the day with frozen tater tots on my belly. I’m going to hold off on seeing a doctor until it’s absolutely necessary simply because, well, shit man I don’t want to get biopsied for cancer. Can you imagine waiting for those results? Not for me, no thanks.
But I’m going to look into getting my wisdom teeth removed so they stop f*cking up my mouth and have my eyes checked especially for night blindness.
In other news, Sara Evil, the crazy woman who wrote that nasty review about me, sent me an irate email about how I cancelled her appointments yesterday without her consent.
One of my therapists wrote her an email confirmation explaining that since she was a “no show” for her previous appointment, can she please respond back to confirm it this time.
Then I read the review she left and so logically I had to cancel her – screw that shit. But I knew in the back of my mind that no matter what I did, she was going to screw us over. Either by not showing up, or complaining that her appointments got cancelled and guess what? I was right.
When we cancel a client, they get an automatic email notification saying that their massage been cancelled.
Here’s what she wrote:
I cannot believe you cancelled my appointments because I didn’t confirm with you. You didn’t even give me time to respond. I didn’t get to check my email until 3pm, which by that time I got the cancellation notice. What kind of business do you run? This is ridiculous. I had booked those massages for my husband and I for our anniversary, and was surprising him. So, thanks to you, it was all ruined! I never booked the massage in which you claim I no showed, so I don’t know what you’re talking about. If I had booked a massage, I would surely show up. What is the number you have on file for me?
We have what’s called a “four-handed massage.” It’s when a client gets massaged by two therapists at the same time. Well, she booked two of them after having written that nasty review about us.
I tactfully responded with:
Whoa there, settle down. We were all there and you still could’ve came in for your massage but we didn’t hear anything back from you. Have you ever been here before? It looks like you’ve never showed up for any massages you booked in the past.
If she responds with, “no I never been there before”, than I can sue her for slander because her email address is tied in with her Yelp review claiming that she has been here before. But unfortunately, she’s too smart for that and caught on to what I was doing so she never responded. She’s probably busy making new aliases so she can write up even more false reviews and in which case, I’ll delete my Yelp account.
As far as my Groupons go, they started selling again today. So even with her review, we’re still getting clients in here. I sold 20 today and felt the cramping in my stomach subside and the black cloud removed from my heart.
So, whew, right? Now I just have to worry about my health and honestly, I’m not even worried about that.
I’m back again at being my happy ol’ self. It was all just another episode in my life, one of several dozen that usually never make it into my blog. But I have time now. I have time as long as it’s not a Friday or Sunday – the two days I’m still scheduled to work.
Deep breath Mel, it’s over.
Why does every goddamned thing I go through have to be so freaking gut wrenching? Literally this time!?
Om num sha body Om num sha body Om num sha body……
You know that feeling just before your heart gets ripped from your chest? When a big sweaty Indian man with crazed eyes sticks his hand in your chest (without sterilizing it first) and pulls out your still beating heart so it can burst into flames before your very eyes?
You know that feeling?
Well, I’m feeling it now. Right at this very moment. My eyes are wide with fright.
I just hired not one esthetician, but two. TWO!!! To do micro-current facials. I interviewed both of them today, one right after the other and I liked them both.
Shit shit shit.
I must pray. Do you have any idea how expensive employee’s are? They’re freaking expensive, that’s how much they are. Did you know a butt-load is an actual number? I’m serious. Butt is a unit of load. Look it up.
But these girls do it all….Waxing, scrubs, LED light therapy, body wraps – both being experts in the field and placed in top managerial positions at their previous jobs. I can easily see manager written all of them.
Thank the lord but OM NUM SHA BODY is my chant for this evening. Every time my mind wonders to something different, but then remembers – I’ll be chanting OM NUM SHA BODY all day today, and possibly into next month and the month after that.
I’m laying in bed. I just got home a little while ago. Should I sleep? I’m already lying here and in my pajama’s…..
OM NUM SHA BODY
Shit shit shit please oh please god.
I hope it works. I shall part the heavens with my prayer. I bought a Jesus bobble head for my car the other day and my mother blessed it with holy water. I’m going to sleep with it tonight.
I’m not religious in the least but when a person is dying, that’s when they pray. And since I’m having my heart ripped from my chest cavity and all…..
Why don’t they have stuffed Jesus dolls? Or Jesus action figures like GI Joe, only have it be GI Jesus? With his 12 disciples, lamb and myrrh accessories. The Jesus doll can cry holy water and excrete concentrated evil out his bum. Jesus Pocket instead of Polly Pocket. Jesus in a barrel instead of monkeys in a barrel.
Okay, so here’s my plan:
1) Get these girls on the schedule
2) Announce micro-current facials to my 2,000 clients
3) Sell 40 more memberships
4) Rent the two empty rooms upstairs
5) Hire more massage therapists
6) Take myself off the schedule so I only work one day a week (maybe two).
And by the summer I’ll be cruising across the country on my motorcycle.
The question is, can this be done? Can I seriously do this? By the summer? Without losing EVERYTHING in the process?!
I written down a few awesome philosophical debates for me and my rational brain to discuss, but I don’t have the capacity for it now.
Rational brain – “……….”
Yes that’s right. Stay silent.
I wonder if there’s anything to eat upstairs…
To elaborate a little more from my last post. Carrying a flashlight in lieu of turning the outside lights on whilst hunting zombies in the backyard, is not a smart idea. First off, If you’re trying to be sneaky by hiding “under the radar” it won’t work. You’re holding a flashlight! It has tunnel vision and you can only see things that are directly in front you.
The zombie can see you, but you can’t see him. Right away he has the jump on you. However, if you light up the entire backyard with spotlights, you’re more likely to see something that shouldn’t be there than the zombie has of spotting you first.
I just don’t understand my brothers logic for choosing a flashlight for hunting zombies in our backyard while he was stoned last night. I mean seriously, a flashlight? Come on bro.
I need to have a talk with him about this. It’ll gnaw on me.