Young At Heart Don't Mean Shit!!!

I've always believed that we are as young as we feel.  Hell, I've been twenty-nine years old more than once.  To be honest, I literally have to do math when asked what my chronological age is, I've celebrated twenty-nine so often.  That withstanding, my real age is beginning to catch up to me.  My knees hurt every winter, as do my neck and feet.  I frequently get migraines and my back hurts almost all of the time.  As well, there's a whole host of other ailments 'n' shit creeping up on me.  Yep!  It's true;  Young at heart, doesn't mean shit, anymore!!

The latest medical test that I've just learned that I'm going to have to endure, is something called a Cystoscopy.  For those not familiar, I didn't know what the f*ck that is, either.  Thank goodness for the interweb, as I quickly got  onto Google and looked it up.  The definition of cystoscopy reads: An endoscopy of the urinary bladder via the urethra.  That's a shit load of medical speak for what translates to: My lying on a table and medical professionals applying a freezing agent on my junk then shoving a tube up the pee-hole of my ding-dong.  The pamphlet that was sent with the notice I received in the mail, claims that I'll feel very little discomfort, if any, during the one-and-a-half to two hour procedure.  I call "bullshit" on that...!  Especially, when you consider that the aftermath is the feeling of pissing fire and blood for the duration of a few days.  Holy f*ck!!

So in mid-summer, on the morning of July 28th, while all of you are enjoying the hot summer weather, lying by the pool or in the shade, sipping on an ice cold lemonade or mint julep, I'm going to be flat on my back, in a funky-smelling hospital examination room, enduring the nervous shaking hands of a medical student rasping my dick with a pipe cleaner.  It's fun-f*cking-times, for Jeffy!!!