In the first of what will undoubtedly be an occasional series here, Reader Comment Contests, we have a winner: Hughman wins in the Post Six Weird Things About Yerself contest for his having been a gay porn scout! (Did you scout locations or participants or both?). His prize, which he may claim at his leisure, is that the Drunken Housewife will write a post on the topic of his choice.
I have some time this morning and should be writing something entertaining, but I'm dulled down by a headache. I've had a headache now for an entire week. I've chugged ibuprofen in scary amounts. The headache is such that I haven't been drinking, as I don't want to put anything potentially headache-inducing into my body (you know I'm sick when I don't drink and I don't put on make-up. Normally, I am not to be seen without my beloved Prescriptives). On the worst days, I had dizzy spells and nausea. The girls were complaining of headaches the week before, so I think it's a non-stomach virus thing. I'm starting to think I should call my doctor, but the one area in which she sucks (I love her otherwise) is that she is not one for prescribing pain pills. If you're going to visit your inlaws, she'll give you some Xanax or Ativans quite happily, but if you drag in there feeling like a sledgehammer is striking your head repeatedly, she's going to tell you to take some Tylenol (and implicit in that is an admonition to quit yer whining).
Coincidentally I picked up at a fabulous used bookstore a memoir about a woman's epic headache lasting for years, "All in my Head" by Paula Kamen, a few days before my headache hit. I can't decide whether to read it now or not. It might perk me up to hear of someone else's much worse headache. Then again, perhaps Paula Kamen herself handled the particular volume I bought, and her mysterious headache germs were on it and I got them, and now I'll be in pain for years.
Wishing you all good health, and bracing myself for the topic of choice by our dear Hughman, yer old Drunken (yet strangely sober of late) Housewife
12 comments:
"If you're going to visit your inlaws, she'll give you some Xanax or Ativans quite happily..."
I may be asking for her number in a few weeks!
P.S. I'm with you on the headache this week. UGH.
If you don't have a carbon monoxide detector, please get one and/or have your house checked for high CO levels. This is the time of the year when CO poisoning happens the most. You can send SH to check on the vents for the heater and water heater to make sure they haven't become dislodged or obstructed. While he's at it, look for flammables near the burners. Please do this ASAP.
yay team! i'm deeply honored.
i will give you some time to alleviate your headache and begin drinking again before i submit my topic. don't worry, it's not that exotic.
also, the gay porn scout story is totally anticlimactic. yes, it was for both locations and performers. no, it did not involve a casting couch.
This is my first time here. Came here through BlogHer. I'll definately be back! I can relate, as my DH was raised in an ultra-religious home and has been paying for it ever since. Luckily for him, he met me and I knocked some sense into him.
Welcome, Green3! Glad you found it.
Hughman, shoot out the topic whenever you think of it. I may take a few days to muse it over before posting, depending on whether something to say on that topic comes to mind quickly or not.
And Silliyak, thank you for the very good advice, which I took. I have a CO detector downstairs right now with a fresh battery in it, and so far, it hasn't detected anything.
That's simply ridiculous.
How can I ever compete with a gay porn scout?
I aspire to be drunken one day... If I can carve out the time required to achieve drunkenness.
I can compete!!!
And I wrote this yesterday but some reason, it didn't post. Drat!
Reasons why I am weird.
1. I never NEVER eat coconut. You can't eat a pet!
2. I have those headband things that you get at Target... one (or sometimes two) for each season. I have a scarecrow headband, a snowflake headband... you get the idea. I love to wear them at the wrong season just to mess with people's minds.
3. I have skull barretts that I wear to church.
4. I hate hate for my toenails to be an inch too long. I have to stop whatever I am doing and cut them! Ugh.
5... the best one of all...
I hate the sound of cotton balls! They are terrible.
They terrorize me in my sleep. Cotton balls are evil and must be destroyed. The sound makes my skin crawl. I also can't touch cotton balls. The dryness of them is terrible!
so there.
:)
Susiederk (friend of the famous Hughman)
Susie, if I knew you in real life, it would be SOOOOO hard for me not to terrorize you with cotton balls. I'd want to give them to you for Christmas, sprinkle them around on April Fool's, etc... It would require all my willpower to refrain from such childish goings-on. I hope your inner circle are more mature.
ROFL!!!
i'd love to see that. cotton balls EVERYWHERE!!!
trust me, DH, she has weirder things in her arsenal too. i know, i've met her.
you two are evil!!! EVIL!
Cotton balls give me the shivers!!!
They must all be destroyed.
PLus, Hughman tells me that I should have mentioned that I had a coconut for a pet.
that was inferred in the "can never eat a pet" comment.
I stumbled on your blog many months ago, and liked it enough that I started with your first entry and am slowly winding my way towards the present. This is my first comment. Not that I have much to say, but you're talking about painkillers and headaches, and a little part of me wants to scream:
I AM IN THE PROCESS OF PASSING A KIDNEY STONE. GODDAMN IT HURTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Your blog is keeping me distracted from an agony that has been compared to childbirth. As a guy, I'll never quite know if it's true, but I do know that passing a kidney stone is an unmitigated horrifying experience.
Thank God I have a trustworthy face. I wasn't quite sure what to expect when I stumbled into the Emergency Room at 5am, in my pajamas, hunched over and sweating profusely, and begging for pain medication.
They dosed me up and set me loose with a small prescription of percocet, bless their hearts. But it still hurts like hell.
Anyway...thanks for keeping me distracted from the slow birth of my bundle of joy. :)
Aww, KED, your post moved me. I felt like it was all worthwhile, all the writing, if I could help a man with his kidney stone. Smooches to you!
I made my husband read your comment so he could further grasp how awesome I am (I occasionally bully him into reading the comments), and he said, "Huh. Kidney stone, eh?" and then left the room.
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