The Homo Depot

I used to think that only the macho, straight men go to the Home Depot because straight men know how to build things.  I was surprised when I found out a lot of gay men like and do fix and build things.  I myself really don't. 

I do not want to fix things.  I do not want to build things.  That's all to it!  I know I can do it if I really want to, but I don't.  I don't even want to get a fancy cell phone just because I don't want to learn all the functions that I will never use.  Jim thought I was weird...or crazy.  A little, I guess.  OK, a lot.

Anyway, after hiring at least 4 different landscapers who overcharged but didn't do a decent job, I have had it.  Why is it so difficult to find good servicemen? First of all, they don't look good.  Second, they don't do a good job.  Third, they often try to fool you.  Just because we need their service, it doesn't mean we have no clue how things are done.  We just don't want to do it.

Well, today, I tried to be one of those gay Homo Depot guys.  I set up 3 dripping irrigation areas in my garden, and they worked! I was so happy.  Now, I don't have to worry about my plants not having enough water anymore...at least in those three areas.  I still have many to go.  I just couldn't believe it.  It was very easy...

Another project that I want to do is building another koi pond.  I already have a large koi pond.  However, there's an area in the front yard where I want to be the focal point.  There're already a large Japanese maple, an ornamental pine tree and other plants.  Now, I want to build a pond there and plant lilly pads and put some Koi down.  I already picked out the big rocks that look like those mountains in the Chinese paintings.  I had holes drilled in them so I could pump water through them to make waterfalls.  I am going to put them in the center of the pond.  I am also going to have waterfalls coming from outside the pond. 

You guessed it.  I am going to do it myself.  Well, I am going to direct some workers that I hired to do it.  I am going to buy the materials and manage the project myself.  I was going to hire a company to do it.  But their price was way overinflated.  On the materials alone, they marked up almost double what I would pay if I had ordered myself.  Their labor charge was outrageous.  I can have a better looking pond with good equipment with half the price they were asking for if I overlooked the project myself.  I did some research on the pump and filtration system today.  I am more confident now that my plan is even more well thought. 

I am very excited.  I am excited because I plan to make a sitting area beside the pond.  Jim and I like to look at the moon.  Maybe, we can sit there to look at the moon when the project is done.  Actually, I'll wait till the Spring to sit there.  There's a Cherry Blossom tree there.  I'd like to replace it with a purple flowered Crepe Myrtle.  Maybe, Jim can do that for me.  There's also a long walk-way that needs to be finished.  Maybe, Jim can do that for me, too.  There are so much leaves in the yard.  Maybe, Jim can help me with that, too.  It's about time to put up the Christmas lights, too.  I have to go call Jim...

:)))
P.S. I love you, Jim

A Store that Sells Cock Meat

Jim often said that I think everyone is gay.  Not true...not at all.

How about that guy from the Chicken store? He might be a closeted gay in disguise.  And all those church goers that lined up on Wednesday to get a piece of Chicken might be gay to their core, too. 

Last night, in my dream:

That CEO guy used to have a gay lover.  The two used to love hot dogs.  All they ate were hot dogs.  Big hot dogs, small hot dogs, they sucked on them at every meal.  Their moms thought they should expand their horizon beyond the American hot dogs, so they stole all of their sons' hot dogs and kept for themselves and sent their boys to France for more culture. 

In France, hot dogs were so expensive.  So, the two became creative and turned to cheese sticks instead.  Well, that didn't go well since they were, and still are to date, lactose intolerance.  Diarrhea wasn't good for their sex life.  Hence, they knew they had to change their diet. 

"What are we going to eat now? Hmmm." 

"But I like hot dogs...I want hot dogs...It's just so fulfilling...I want it!!!" the future CEO to be stumped his feet and whined at his boyfriend. 

"OK, OK...I'll find something," the boyfriend tried to calm down his whiny lover.

Lucky for them, a little rooster strolled by.  "A cock, a cock!!!" 

So, they fried their "cock". 

"I love cock meat!"

"COQ meat, you mean."

"Oui, Oui."

"I think when we go back to America, we should open a fast food chain for all of our cock lover friends."

"That's a Cock-Filling-Ass idea! I think we should name our fast food chain Cock-Filling-Ass.  You know?"

"But we are church-goers; we can't say Cock and Ass...Oops, I just said it...hehehe...giggle giggle..."

"Let's settle for Chic Fil A.  As long as  you and I know what it means, it's satisfying enough...giggle, giggle."

"Honey, you can go ahead and giggle.  You don't have to say 'giggle giggle'.  It's annoying."

"I want to be the CEO.  But I want my title to have something related to a cock.  I just love cocks.  Cocks taste good!!!  How about Mr. COQ?"

"Our cock lover, oops...chicken lover...friends won't think it's becoming of you to use COQ."

"How about COO?"

"I guess."

"Give me a C...Give me an O...give a Q...Give me a COCK, COCK, COCK...Give me your COCK!!!"

A few months later, a cock meat fast food chain came out, and a lot of chicken loving church goers loved the juice of their cock meat.

...

That was my dream.

I thought only prostitutes make money on cocks.                 

I AM BEAT!

A 65 y.o. man came to see me for the first time and asked me if I could do something for his penis.  His has been getting shorter and shorter over the years, and now it's difficult to pull it out whenever he needed to urinate.  Well, keep on pulling on it, I guess.  If I know how to lengthen penises, I would have done it on mine years ago, though I don't think I need to... :).

Later in the day, I performed a PAP smear, and there were sperms in the vagina...Why???

Then, there was this young guy from Nepal.  I diagnosed him with Rheumatoid Arthritis.  He insisted on having X-Rays of his joints, a whole bunch of joints.  He just stared at me when I told him I already knew what he had and didn't need to do the X-Rays.  He stared at me again and again.  What the heck?  It took me more time talking back and forth with my interpreter, and he just stared at me.  That's it! Go home and take the medicine. I am not the type who does everything patients want.  I had a whole bunch of patients waiting for me, and he kept on staring at me!

Today was not a good day.  I got to the office at 8 a.m., and there already were around 30 patients in the waiting area.  Some had appointments; some didn't.  It stressed me out when patients had to wait for a long time.  It didn't help when the walk-in patients kept on complaining about the wait.  Most of the time, it's the Vietnamese patients.  They whined and whined and whined.  They came after other people, and they wanted to be seen first.  "I have to go to work."  "I'm very sick."  "I'm hungry." "I've been waiting for so long." Etc...  Well, other patients before you had to go to work, too.  They were sick, too.  They were hungry, too.  And they had waited longer than you.  So, stop whining!

God, today was all that and more...I am beat!

Shit Comes from Lack of Communication...

A couple of days ago, I received a message from someone with an Eastern Indian accent. It was so heavy that I couldn't understand what he was talking about.

"Ju helf accjent! Wai ju wurrie Indeeung accjent?!!"

"Gay Confucius, I have no clue what you're talking about either. I thought you're gone for good!"

"Wan nook eg mee weewee?"

"NO! Get away from me!"

Anyway, this person said he was calling from some company and that there was some problem with something and I should call back at some number and refer to some ID number. I had no clue.

So many companies are now outsourcing to India. If they do that, they should at least find employees who can speak clearly. A lot of time, even when they speak a little clearly, they have no clue what they're talking about. It's like they are reading from a cheat sheet. Even when they are supposed to be the technical specialists, a lot of times they make no sense. It's so frustrating.

I still don't know what that message was about. It's very annoying because I don't know whether it was something important.

I thought I'm pretty good with understanding people who talk with an accent. I have an accent myself. Jim thinks it's exotic. I do it to humor him. I have no accent when I speak to the people in my family. At my clinic, I have patients from so many different countries. Patients who speak English are the minorities. Excluding my sister and the PA, I have 4 female Hispanic employees, 2 male Hispanic employees, 1 male Nepalese employee, 1 female Burmese, 2 male Burmese, 2 male Vietnamese, and 1 female Vietnamese. It's like an international market when my clinic is crowded with patients, which is all the time.

Anyway, I love my patients. Most of them are indigent but very nice. My overhead is very high because they don't usually speak English. A lot of time, we are like their social workers as well.

"Fook! Geg ong wee duh jstoree!"

"Hold your horses, Dear Gay Confucius!!!"

Anyway...

"Ju ang-nee-wei all duh tyme!"

"Shut up!!!"

"Ju Jut oop!! Fook! Ju lo jut up ole meng nike mee"

Anyway, 2 days ago, I saw a 17 y.o. Nepalese girl. She said she spoke English, so I didn't need my Nepalese guy to interpret. She had symptoms of a Urinary Tract Infection. So, I gave her a cup to collect some urine for me. I specifically asked her to urinate in there. She said she couldn't. I told her I needed just a little bit. A moment later, she brought back the cup with poop in it. Ew!!!

"No, no..."

"You told me to urinate," she said with an Indian-like accent.

"Yes...pee..."

"Oh, you should say pee!"

:D

I have not had a chance to talk to Jim today. Neither did I have much opportunity to text him. Today was very busy at work. We had a lot of patients. On top of that, my PA called in sick. By the time I was done with work, it was almost midnight in the UK.

So, I decided to stay up late to do paperwork so that I could talk to Jim when he wakes up. It's 2 a.m. now. That would be 7 a.m. where Jim is. Ah...It just came to my mind now that today is Saturday. Jim won't get up early. Only I work on Saturday. I'll give it a try in 30min.

I want to tell Jim I miss him and love him very much. Four years ago was when we met. I am happy... :D

The Gay Man Could Read My Eyes.

My mom wanted to go out to dinner tonight. So, we did. We went to this Chinese buffet place that I usually don't like to go. The food is good. I just don't like it because it's usually too crowded and there usually are some Vietnamese people who know me with whom I do not want to associate. I want to have my dinner in peace.

Tonight, as my family and I walked toward the main entrance, there sat this middle aged Vietnamese guy on the bench smoking. He kept on staring straight at us. I can't stand cigarette smoke. It gives me an asthma attack. So, I hurried in without paying much attention to him.

Then, every time I stood up to get food, he would stare at me. When I walked past his table, he stared straight at me. I know I look good, but it was just so annoying! (LOL). Then, it occurred to me that maybe he was gay! Maybe, he was trying to talk to me with his eyes! Gay people do communicate with their eyes, right? I think so.

So, I turned around and nicely winked at him four times.

He said: "You Are Taken?"

Holy smoke, he could read my eyes!

Overloaded

Today is my day off, and I'm working at the clinic. Actually, my sisters are doing the same thing. I interviewed three Physician Assistants within the last two weeks, and I don't think any of them would join us.

The first one was an East Indian newly graduated girl. She seemed OK, but she was asking for so many things when she didn't have any leverage to do that.

The second one was the first one's classmate, I found out later. She was Hispanic. This suits my clinic very well. She is from Cuba. She was too confident. I've been a doctor for 16 years, and the only thing I'm confident about is the fact that I don't know much. I have seen enough to feel good that I know I don't know much. Here she is, a fresh-out-of-the-boat physician assistant, being cocky.

The third one came yesterday. He was a 65 y.o. Caucasian. He used to be a pharmacist and switched to become a PA since 20 years ago. His resume showed he last worked 2 years ago. Something didn't quite fit, so I checked his record. It turned out that his pharmacy license was suspended for 5 years due to drug addiction.

I am a person who believes in second chance because I myself have been given second chances. I was very hesitant, but I was still open-minded. I thought to myself that if he were nice and worked hard, then I would be willing to hire him since he hasn't had any issue working as a PA.

So, I interviewed him. He didn't come across as a friendly person. He told me he had a stroke when I asked him why he has not been working since two years ago. But, later, he told me he's been working part-time for a neurologist whose name he didn't list on his resume. Then, I asked him why he switched from being a pharmacist to being a physician assistant. I was looking for him to be honest. Unfortunately, he said in an indifferent manner: "It's boring." I have three siblings who are pharmacists, and they have to work so hard they have no time to be bored. I then asked him if he had any more question for me. He said: "When do I start?"

Off I go, looking for more PAs.

Now, I have to go back to my paperwork.

On a better note, I will get to see Jim tomorrow night.

Nose Picking

People are picking noses left and right. With the presence of the allergy season, I don't think there are anyone who doesn't do it. Even the Queen of England does it. Jim took these pictures. He told me she even looked at it afterward. He said he wasn't sure what she did with it, though.

Today, there was a patient who took his two sons in to see me. For the whole time he was in the exam room, he repeatedly picked his nose. Right in front of me! How gross! Why would you do that when you know someone is right there looking at you? How many times do you have to pick your nose? If you have to, shouldn't you aim it so that you could do it in one shot? Why do you have to look at what you got? Don't tell me you are going to taste it the moment I turn away.

I'm all gross out, now...LOL. This actually did happen.

This is what Jim and I did before he left for the UK.

waiting...

It's 1:55 am. It's almost time for Jim to wake up. I want to text him "Good Morning!" and a big capitalized "I LOVE U!" I miss him very much.

With the time difference between here and the UK and my busy work schedule, it's been difficult for us to talk. From the moment I step into my clinic, I see patients non-stop until it's too late to talk to Jim.

I hope he's having a good time over there. I hope the British are treating him well.

I'm here waiting for his hugs.....

My Boyfriend is Leaving...

Tomorrow, early in the morning, Jim will be on his way to the UK. For two very long weeks, I will very much miss him. I want him to know that when he looks down from the plane,
he'll feel the love I'm sending to him from below. One day, we'll be on the plane together.

I'm working on our vacation. I hope it would be next year some time. I won't be able to take a vacation unless I have three PAs. The new one is very nice and works hard. She's still not good but has good potentials. We'll have another one coming for an interview on Tuesday. Crossing my fingers! If it worked out, I'll just have to look for one more. Then, my life would be less hectic. I'm praying.

Meanwhile, my sisters and I will continue to be slaves to our jobs...Grrr.

Back to Jim, I hope his boss will give him some free time to explore the city. I will miss his morning texts. I will miss his texts throughout my work day. I will miss our good night talks. With the different time zones, I don't want him to have to worry about me.

I love you, Jim.

A Cookie Shared

Jim and I went to Starbucks this evening before we had dinner. I had my coffee; he had his. I like oatmeal raisin cookies. So, I got a big one for myself. Jim didn't want any. We sat at a small table next to the window. I shared the cookie with Jim. Jim asked me if we looked gay. A White guy and an Asian guy sharing a cookie...how much more gay can it get? :D

We didn't look gay, but we looked gay... :))). I really enjoyed that moment, though.

We didn't plan it. It just happened that way. I didn't think much about it. But, now, when I think about it, it was a sweet moment.

A simple, sweet moment like sharing a cookie with someone you love might be viewed as something repulsive by some others. Isn't that a shame?

I Need A Break

I've had a hard week at work. Actually, it's been a few months worth of hard work. Actually, it's been a few years worth of hard work. It's just that this week has been harder. I'm not yet burnt out. I'm very resilient. But, I might break soon if this persists. Well, probably not, but I do wish to have some relaxing time. One of our two PAs decided to switch gear and enter a specialty. The other one was new but had more potential than this one. However, she had some poor work ethics and had shown to be a potential liability. So, I quickly let her go. This Monday, we'll have a new one that seems very nice and willing to appreciate team-work. Hopefully, it will work out. I need another one. The demand for PAs in this area is so high that it's very difficult to get a good PA. It's so difficult that I have decided to hire an extra one; that would make 3 PAs. Still, I could not hire them. Most of our patients are indigent, new immigrants, Hispanics, Asians, some Blacks, and very few Whites. This fact does not attract physicians or physician assistants so much if they just quickly glance at our practice. In reality, it's a very worthwhile place to work. The salary and benefits are good. The patients are usually very nice. The staff are helpful and nice. Especially, the boss is extremely nice...:D. Yet, I'm still working so hard. I am praying for two nice PAs to come my way. Yes. God, please bring me two more. I'm so tired I'm not funny any more.

Sigh...

Meanwhile, Jim asked me to go clothe shopping with him later today to prepare for his new job. This should be interesting...:D An Asian guy and a White guy clothe shopping together. How gay can it be? LOL...One good thing is that I'm no longer afraid that people might notice us. Well, unless there'd be some Vietnamese around. They love to gossip. Grrr.

Well, it will be a good break. I will have to go back to my paperwork tonight. I haven't done any paperwork this morning. I went to church, had lunch, vacuumed part of the house, and it's already 2:45pm.

2nd shower now...

Gay Men Don't Turn Masculine When They Get Married.

I have read several blogs and got the general idea that a lot of gay married men or gay ex-married men or long-term "bi" men (who name themselves "bi" just because they are married to a woman) downplay the never-married, gay men as often be more feminine, childish, lacking responsibilities as compared to them.

Why do they even think that way? People a different. There are all types of people in every group. Even in your own immediate family, our siblings are different from us. In my family, my two younger sisters and I have been more responsible toward our parents than my five other married siblings. Does that make us better children than the others? No.

Some single gay men are very responsible. Some are less. Just like with the gay married men. If I said that single gay men are more responsible than gay married men because they refuse to hurt another human being by marrying a woman to shield their sexuality, would that make me sound stupid? YES!

And, to say that gay married men, as compared to single men, are more masculine and less childish is just like saying Asian men are bottoms. Hell, try reading the blogs by married gay and bi men, you'll see how feminine these people can get. It's a huge display of feminine qualities. Do I think it's bad? NO. To each his own. Do I picture some of them as sassy feminine men? Sometimes. Do I think they are bad people because of that? NO. To each his own.

Just because some gay men choose not to get married, it does not mean they are immature, irresponsible, lack of life experience, or feminine. It could be because they are mature, responsible and have enough sense in themselves to choose not to get married. I bet you a lot of those naked male pictures posted by the gay/bi married men are of single gay men. Do I see people drooling over them? YES. My sister has a friend who is as feminine as one can get, but he is actively seeking to get married. He doesn't think he's gay. I'm waiting to see if suddenly he'll turn masculine once he gets married.

All that said, to some gay married or ex-married men out there who are seeking love, be a little open-minded. You might be surprised that the best person that comes along your way might be one who has been single.

Things Often Happen for a Reason

I believe that a lot of things happen in life for a reason. Actually, sometimes I believe that; sometimes I pretend to believe that after I had done stupid things.

This leads to the story of my first "long-term" boyfriend. I met him through one of the online dating websites. He lived about 9 hours driving from me. He was a very good-looking man in his profile photo. In person, he was not as good-looking but not bad. He was 6 ft, 175lbs, had psoriasis. He was not comfortable about his psoriasis, but I was.

Psoriasis wasn't something I had to overlook. I didn't see that as one of the negative criteria in getting to know him and loving him. Yet, there were other things that I tried to overlook. Anyway, he was planning on transferring to my city to get to know me. However, he changed his plan and moved to the Virgin Islands for a job that might have furthered his career. I promised to wait for him for two years. He promised to visit me every three months (He didn't).

For the whole two years, I could rarely contact him whenever I wanted to. His phone was usually either off or not answered. His voice mail was pretty much all the time full. He had many excuses. The only time we talked was every night when he got off work, which was between midnight and 1 a.m. So, I waited every night for him so he could unload his burden on me. The conversations were usually about the bad things that happened at his work. On his off days, it was as difficult to contact him.

Even though he always said he loved me, his action didn't show it. I was not convinced. I tried to break up with him a couple of times, but he begged me not to, very earnestly. On one hand, I was very frustrated. On the other, I felt bad that he had to work and live in harsh conditions overseas. All I needed was being able to feel that he loved me. That was enough for me to wait for him, even for more than two years.

At the end of the two years, he got laid off and moved back to the Northeast. That was the last draw for me. I didn't have to feel sorry for him any more. I wasn't afraid that he was lonely any more. I cut off the relationship.

He, to this date, still claims that he loved me very much though admitted he should have put more effort. We are at peace with each other now. But I don't love him. I am not sure if the love I gave him was out of love for another human being or the love for who he really was.

I still care for him as a friend. I don't regret the two years I waited for him. I think of this period as the time my ankle was chained up just to be released in time to meet Jim, whose love for me I don't have to question (though he's often MEAN to me).

Things often happen for a reason. Some things that seem bad at the time might have been good things for the future.

What Gives!

What Gives...

Does this phrase sound gay to you? It does, doesn't it? I first heard this in the Golden Girls. I think both Rose and Blanch said it. Yes, both of them said it. Trust me.

Why do people say that gay men love the Golden Girls? I don't get it. What gives! This does sound gay! I'll probably never say it again. What gives!

Yesterday, I saw this man from Nepal. He was one of those men who had no concepts of hygiene. I mean, if you are one of those people who sweat a lot, wear some deodorants! What gives! He didn't. The fumes just spurted out in waves. I almost got an asthma attack. But that wasn't "what gives".

His son told me he had a rash in his "difficult" area. What gives? "You mean his groin area? His penis? His buttock?" I asked the son. I was scared stiff...danger zone. I was going to have to examine that "difficult" area of a 60 year old man who had, really,...a really bad smell exploding from his armpits. Who knew what was in there.

I have taken care of patients who are construction workers, landscapers who come in after work and smell bad. But, I don't think anything of it. They work hard. Of course, they are bound to sweat and smell. That is OK. That is understandable. This man, on the other hand, doesn't work. And, honest, I don't think he takes showers. My best bet is once a week.

So, I called one of my male staff in to be my chaperon. I asked the patient to step down from the exam table and stand in front of me. He did. I signaled him to pull down his pants. He said, "No." I thought he didn't understand me. So, I asked his son to tell him to pull his pants down. He said, "No." I told him I wouldn't be able to know how to treat him if I couldn't see the rash. He said, "No." WHAT GIVES! LOL...

Though I was really afraid of what I might have to see in and smell from his "difficult" area, I would feel guilty if I didn't treat him. I was anxious of the unknown. But, I gave him another try. I told him, "Sir, how am I going to help you if I don't know what your rash looks like?" He said, "No."

OK! Brew it in there. What gives!

OK, I'll stop with the gay "what gives". I forgot, I AM GAY. But saying "what gives" is gayer. Or, should I say "more gay" instead of "gayer"?

"Jshut duh fook oop! Whac geeves!"

"Gay Confucius, You Shut Up!"

"Ju jshut oop! Whac geeves!"

Bill...Tell me how to fix it!

Bill,
I couldn't even open your comment at first. So, I went into the edit section and was able to read your comment. And...HOW DO I FIX IT?...:)
Email me if you don't mind because I might not be able to open your comment again.
Thanks.

I Am Dying.....

I am dying...

I hate computers. I don't know much about computers. And, I refuse to learn it! Yes, I'm sitting on the floor stumping my feet refusing to learn the computers. I can learn to do pretty much anything I want to, but I refuse to learn the computers.

I even refuse to memorize the address to my blog. I usually go into Jim's blog then click onto mine. Well, something horrible happened to me this week. When I clicked onto some of the sites on Jim's blog, including mine, sometimes it just froze. Mine is the worst. If I clicked on my blog name, the article would appear, but, once I clicked on "comment", it just froze stiff. STIFF...hmmm. Jim's staff is STIFF...When I first learned English, I used to write a sentence for every interesting word.

Anyway, this is killing me. With my obsessive-compulsive TRAIT (yes, Jim, I have an OC TRAIT, not DISEASE...at least, not yet), this drives me crazy.

I have another sentence: I have OCD when it comes to Jim's STIFF STAFF. :))) Actually, all kidding aside, I love Jim with all my heart, and it has nothing to do with his stiff staff. I am just as happy with him with or without sex. I would be even happier if he'd let me show him how to take down my Christmas tree. Somehow, Jim doesn't think it's a good way to make memories with me. I just don't get it...LOL.

Back to the main topic, I tried a different computer, and the exact same thing happened. This drives me nuts! I am dying of frustration.

I Need to Have My Testicles Checked

This was how we had our physical exams before we left the refugee camp for the US. The only
difference was there was only one female doctor sitting at the desk while we one by one passed by her for only a genital check.

Now, I'm on the other end checking men' genitals. The genital part is OK, but I don't like checking prostates. Not all men keep things clean.

The funny thing is a lot of the men are funny when it comes to checking their genitals. I guess they are just shy. I always tell them what I would do and why I needed to do it. A lot of them either ask me if they should drop their pants down or just stand right in front of my face while I'm sitting on my stool and resist dropping their pants down. Each time like that, I could not help but smile and say, "Well, how am I going to check you, now, with your pants on?" Usually, that would break the ice.

Some of them are so funny though; they slowly pull their pants down then slowly resist pulling their boxers down then hide their penises a little bit at the end. But there are some with big penises who would just volutarily drop their pants the moment I requested and didn't even want to pull up their pants when done as if to say: "Here it is; I'm proud of it."

Then, there are some who would just stand so close to my face. As I move back, they move forward. I am farsighted now, I need to stay back a little to see it clearly! Actually, I don't have to. But, a lot of times, these men are unkempt, and I do not at all want to be close to their penises. Why couldn't they just take a shower if they knew they were going to have a physical? That is not a man scent that I enjoy...sigh!

Then, there are some who would just plainly refuse the examination. Well, the more power to you. All I have to do is document your refusal and move on to the next patient. Well, yesterday, there was one who stood on the fence deciding whether or not he would let me examine his precious parts. Good grief, make up your mind! I have other patients to see. It turned out that he had a very small penis. AND, his testicles were as tiny as those of a two-year-old child. That's a good reason to be shy. But, why wouldn't you want your doctor to check and help you? That's crazy. Surely, it's not normal. He told me his previous doctor from somewhere didn't say anything about it. I was glad I checked him out.

It's important to get your prostate and testicles checked. I think Jim is due for one. I am due for one, too. Actually, I don't want my prostate checked. I only want my testicles checked, very carefully...and extensively checked. But, I don't have time to go to the doctor. What am I to do? I got it. I have to train Jim to check them for me. Yes.

I Need to Look for Jim

I have been so busy that I haven't taken down the Christmas tree. It's long overdue. I remember vividly how I loved it so much when Jim and I sat in front of it after I put it up. It was very special...the two of us sharing a moment of tranquility amidst the beaming holiday spirit.

Now that it's time to take down the Christmas tree, it makes me think about Jim so much, too. It makes me think that, amidst the messiness of the holiday aftermath, it would be so nice to have Jim here with me taking down the Christmas tree. Or even better, I can show him how to take down my Christmas tree. Yeah...Jim, come over and make some memories.

Jim, where are you? ?Donde estas? Come on! It will be fun.....Jim, Dear?.....

:)))