I Want Candy

I understand that children get lollipops and stickers after doctor and dentist visits. How’s come I never get any? Yeh, I totally get that I’m not a kid anymore but, fer fuck’s sake, adults need treats/rewards for being brave little doobies too! C’mon now, how many surgeries, procedures, MRIs and other assorted fucking tests do I have to go through before I earn a goddamn lollipop and an ‘atta girl??’

If the doc feels I’ve aged out of lollis and stickers, how about some dark chocolate covered cherries and a Banksy?

By the way, at yesterday’s pre-op appointment, Doctor Plotkin asked how my dental surgery went. He thought my response, I’ll take brain surgery over dental surgery any day of the week and you can add in a spine op on Sundays, was hilarious. I’ll take that and his positive assessment of my strength levels as an ‘atta girl.

Still, a nice cherry Tootsie Roll Pop woulda really hit the spot. I want candy!
~~~
Word for the day:

Batrachian
     adjective
1.  of, like, or concerning frogs and toads
2. what Trump looks like

Yesterday’s court sketch artist was absolute fire. I mean, this particular capture really gets across the grifting, batrachian fraud’s baked in corrupt, rotting, evil skank.

Also, I’m thrilled to bits that Cheato had to sit there quietly while his former fixer’s new nickname for him, Von ShitzInPantz, was read into the record.

“This one says: ‘Oh,,,Von ShitzInPantz. Keep whining, crying and violating the gag order you petulant defendant!’ ” —Donald Trump defense attorney Todd Blanche, referring to a social media post by former Trump attorney Michael Cohen, a witness in the ongoing hush money trial. (source) 

OUCH, that’s gonna leave a mark!
~~~
I only mention it but, before each of my big-ass neurosurgeries (to date, seven brain {eighth coming right up} and four spine) I consider my mortality. That’s normal, not morbid and creepy, right?

Well, last night while attempting to fall asleep, it dawned on me that I’d like some specific music at my memorial service. I know, funerals and memorials are for the living, those left behind—if no one’s up for throwing me an afterparty //shrugs// who am I to disagree? I’ll be dead, nada but fish food…my loved ones can do whatever the hell they want. If there IS a whoop-de-doo, I’d like some/all these tunes and such played, k:

My Way – Sex Pistols
Last Dance – Donna Summer
Alive – Pearl Jam
Burning Down the House – Talking Heads
Mission Impossible – Concussion Ensemble
Day in the Life – Beatles
Stayin’ Alive – Bee Gees
Tubthumping – Chumbawumba
The Boxer and Cool Cool River – Paul Simon
The B side of NIN’s The Downward Spiral
Shapes of Things and Beck’s Bolero – Jeff Beck Group
Aladdin Sane – David Bowie (the original album version with Mike Garson on piano. DAY-UM that man was a god of the keys. Side note—did you know that the piano is classed as a percussion instrument  (not just stringed) because the hammers strike the strings to make the notes. I’d forgotten that little factoid—it fell out of the deep memory banks yesterday morning on the way home from seeing Plotkin)
Fanfare for the Common Man – Aaron Copeland (as done by Emerson, Lake and Palmer)
Firebird – Stravinsky
Der Totentanz – Franz Liszt
Queen of the Night aria from The Magic Flute
John Cage – You know, that piece that’s just 4 minutes and 33 seconds of silence? Anyone have that on vinyl?

I’m sure I’m leaving out more than a few favored compositions but this’ll do for a start.