I have a feeling that is going to be a constant theme for the remainder of my blog days: Making a post, and then not returning for at least a week or so to make another one, and following that up with some comment related to how inconsistently I post entries on here. Oh well. I support copouts when they're addressed :-)
Moving on -- today's theme includes the world of sucking. Hating your life. AKA, being a stupid 9 year old who complains about his family. And I had it TOUGH, let me tell ya. Except I didn't -- not at all. For the many times I would complain about hating my parents and/or siblings, it didn't quite cross my mind to be grateful for the people in my life that helped shape the bizarre person I now am. But for the sake of childhood, let's remember that everything is relative, and when life hands you lemons, you squeeze those lemons until they squish so hard and dirty up your hands to the point where you just HAVE to wash them. You know what I mean, right?
On another note, I have to bring up yet another important element of my childhood: my stomach. It sucked. I used to throw up constantly as a kid, for no reason other than, well, my stomach sucked. They thought I had Crones. So then how did they find out whether or not I actually did? I'll let you figure that out for yourself. And if you can't, then by all means, read below and you'll learn. Reader discretion is advised, as I describe my procedure as if I'm Doug Funnie (Oh right, I used to think I was him. Don't get me started on that. Though ironically, I'm pretty sure that's why I started writing in journals to begin with). Let me try to remain on track here: just read below, and everything will be explained. Well, to the best of my 9 year old ability at least.
Lastly, I hope that you're ready to take the Evan test...
My life sucks! It may not to you, but it does to me. do you think that my life sucks? Yes or no? If you don’t, then I don’t believe you. If you do think my life sucks, then good for you. But I do hope that ya think my life sucks! Thank you for taking the Evan test, you passed! Now for our next questoin, Just kidding!! The end!
Again, I am not feeling that good right now because I had to say hi to my other coesins, but I didn’t want to., so my dad yelled at me, so I went to my room! That’s all folks! See you next time!
Again, I am feeling extremely bad right now!!!! I really do hate my family except for a few people in it! I really would like a new family! Besides the one I have right now! I would have any family except for the one I have right now! For sure! Mean family! Yes! The end! And thank you! The end!
Did you ever have that feeling were you had to do a test in the hospital? Well I did. It all began when I was just about 2 years old. I was always complaining about my stomach allways hurting. This thing has bin going on since I was 2 to 9 ½ years old. I was complaining about me throwing up about 1ce or 2wice a week somtimes. So 2 days ago it all began. The hospital made me dring a whole gallon of some very, very grose stuff. Although the next morning I throgh it up, I still had to go to the hospital to do a test. During the test they put me to sleep, and put this weird thing in my mouth. It went all the way down to my throught. The next thing that they did was to me what put this thing in my butt and pushed it all the way up to my stomach. I am just so happy that this test is over with! Bye!
It's hard to know where to begin. The Evan test? Really? Who was I fooling? Do normal 9 year olds really think like this? Lord I hope not.
And let me clarify one thing -- the procedure, known by most as a Colonoscopy, was something I had NO idea of what I was getting in to. Could you imagine, as a 9 year old, having just cleared out your entire system, dry heaving on the ride to the hospital, and then being half put to sleep to have certain things inserted into your body while you can STILL FEEL THEM?! It's been 17 years since I had this done, and I can STILL remember being on the operating table and having this done to me. Why oh why did they say to me right beforehand, "And if you feel any pain or discomfort, just let us know." Because I DID tell them that during the procedure, but did anything change? I think not. UGH was it mortifying.
Fortunately, though, I survived, Crones-free. I just had a sensitive stomach, which would remain the case for as long as I would upset it, which, sad to say, I do too much. This certainly explains the fact that I can hardly ever drink alcohol, otherwise mr. stomach will act up. As I said before, I lead a tough life.
:-) Thanks for reading!