Friday 12 December 2014

I'VE DECIDED TO GIVE UP FITNESS AND TAKE UP DRINKING

robaxacet, brampton, spring rolls restaurant, back pain, goodlife,
I SPRAINED MY COCCYX OR SOMETHING
so naturally my doctor prescribed a large glass of wine with a side of muscle relaxers.

There are few things more debilitating than back pain. Well actually, that's not quite true, a case of syphilis is pretty goddam debilitating (er, or so I'm told). Severe food poisoning via Burger King (yes I'm naming names, you pink-burger-serving bastards) is violently debilitating. And of course, auditioning for Bill Cosby is very debilitating if you can remember any of it after the drugs wear off ("allegedly"). But back pain? Trust me, back pain is right up there.

I know this because I am at this very moment sitting in an unattractively hunched position, washing down Robaxacets with wine because whoever said mixing muscle relaxers with liquor was a bad idea was obviously not in excruciating pain, so he can blow me. (Sorry. I blame the Robaxacet.) What happened was, I injured my back during a rousing low-impact workout because that's what I do: I attempt to hold back the hands of time and then the hands of time grab me by the aging fibula and shriek: "Go home and take up knitting, you mad bitch! You're too old for this!" 

But of course I don't listen, anyone who knows me knows I have issues with "acting my age" and it's only getting worse with age, so by the time I'm 90 I fully expect to be heli-skiing in the nude or some such thing.  

So I had to call in sick, which I never do because I frickin' love my job ... where else can you cuss and wear ridiculous heels and Google "Bill Cosby: rapist" and have people say "Oh that Marie!" ... and then a winter storm shat all over Brampton so I had to pay a complete stranger fifty bucks to shovel my driveway (I'm sure he'll be here any minute). By the time darkness fell I was out of painkillers, goddam famished and in no shape to cook, so I took a cab to Spring Rolls, asked for a takeout menu and crumpled up in one of their booths, where the server found me awkwardly hunched and blurted: "Stephen Hawking? THIS IS SUCH AN HONOUR!" I swear to God I'd have kicked him, but again, back pain. I think the kicking is what I miss most of all.

Anyway, I ordered a comforting meal of green curry, jasmine rice, coconut shrimp and, as you can see from the picture, a large goblet of white wine because you can't take Robaxacet dry, and now I'm feeling quite marvelously woozy so I'm going to sign off and let my moron editor bail me out of whatever libelous shit I've just posted and ... goodni-i-i-i-i-i-i-ite?

EDITOR'S NOTE Please excuse the mistress. It's fairly obvious she wrote this entire thing while in a drunken stupour.
ROBAXACET'S NOTE Please see manufacturers' warnings: Do not exceed recommended dosage as severe liver damage due to acetaminophen toxicity may occur. Avoid alcohol.
MY NOTE I tried to read your stupid instructions but the words were blurry.

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