My Ear, Part III

When we last met my ear, I had just performed the ear wax removal system twice on it, resulting in ringing and unbearable pain. I decided to go to the New York Eye & Ear infirmary at 2:30pm on a Tuesday because a) who the hell goes to the ear doctor at that time, and b) the place is near my apartment. So I walk to the dingy, rainbow colored building, and am standing in the lobby watching nurses walk aimlessly and while hoardes of random unemployed people are just standing around the perimeter of the lobby, holding forms and clipboards. As I'm standing there doing my best to look confused in the hopes that someone tells me what the hell is going on, a security guard comes up to me and asks me if I need help. I tell him I'd like to see a doctor about my ear, and he says, "No problem, just stand in that line," and he points to a line of about 20 people, including several screaming babies and lots of puffy coats. I ask him what the wait is like once I've finished waiting in the initial line, and the security guard smirks and says "There's the waiting room," and motions to what can only be described as a scene directly from hell.

There were about 150 people crammed in, standing and sitting all over the place, eating McDonalds, snapping gum, screaming at their children, talking loudly to each other and doing other annoying things. As far as the eye could see were South Pole puffy jackets, Timberlands and Sketchers, and then I asked the security guard if this was a joke. He then said "Doors open at 7:30am but they only see patients from 1 to 3pm." I then asked him whether these people had been waiting since 7:30 and he said yes, and I then asked him whether he'd ever seen the fresco "The Condemned In Hell" by Signorelli because this waiting room appeared to be to the inspiration for the terrifying masterpiece. The security guard looked at me like I was insane and for some reason thought I was asking where the soda machine was so he started giving me directions to it, at which point I walked out of the building.

I went home and remembered that many of the plastic surgeons that I had been researching when I was looking into my nosejob were affiliated with Manhattan Eye & Ear, so I called them and asked the guy on the phone if they allow people without insurance to go there and he said that they did if they paid cash, so I made an appointment for the next day at 8:30am since it was only $140.99. So the next day, I roll up at 8:45am because even when seeing doctors it's important to be fashionably late. The intake lady on the first floor takes my license and makes a photocopy and tells me that it's a good picture, so I then am forced to delay myself further by explaining that I always take amazing license pictures, it's actually a talent because I normally take bad pictures but I step it up for licenses and this happens to be my third amazing picture license. They send me up to the "Audiology" floor, where I am seated in a waiting room with two old ladies. The tv is on Regis and Kelly and the volume is deafeningly loud and assaulting my right ear. As I'm trying to protect myself from the volume by zipping my hoodie over my head, I catch the eye of one of the old ladies and say, "Ironic that we're in an audiology ward and the volume is up all the way!" which she responds to be staring at me blankly. Then two deaf people come into the waiting room and start signing to each other, which makes me feel better because my ear may be ringing but those people have real hearing problems.

Finally, they call me and I tell Dr. Lim that my mother the psychiatrist in conjunction with her friend Joseph the Oncologist have prescribed amoxicillan for my ear, which she laughs at. I also tell her about the wax removal fiasco and she shakes her head and then looks in my ear and informs me that I have "absolutely no wax" in there, which was a relief to hear because I didn't want to have to tell people this story and have them be disgusted by me. She then spritzes something up my nose and then asks me if I have trouble breathing because my nose is clogged. I tell her that my nose has been clogged since my nosejob in 2001, but I consider the clogging a small price to pay for a marginally better nose. She prescribes me some prednisone, vaguely tells me there some "fluid" somewhere and sends me away.

It's been over a week since then, and needless to say my ear remains clogged and ringing. I return to the office of Manhattan Eye & Ear tomorrow and Dr. Lim tomorrow. Stay tuned...

Day of Doodlehead Cont'd

Olympia

Day of Doodlehead

Peeing

Happy 2nd Birthday Perry!

Two years ago today, somewhere in northern California, five puppies were born to proud mom Fiona and deadbeat dad Timmy, a Bedlington who had already skipped town. There were two girl puppies and three boys, but two of the boys died very early on. One blue boy was left, and since I had already put down a non-refundable $400 deposit, that meant he was mine. About 8 weeks in, he traveled by airplane to Lancaster, PA, along with his sister, Callie, to the home of another breeder, where he would await my arrival via red Mustang because that was the only car they had left at Hertz that weekend. Aliza and I picked him up, we drove to New Jersey to introduce him to his step-siblings Hailey and Lamb Choppe, and it was there that Uncle Lambo kept on sniffing his ear and diagnosed him with an ear infection. He was, from the beginning, a total money pit. But every cent I've ever paid or ever will pay for that dog is worth it. I'd even give up the contents of my ING Savings account for him, and that's pretty serious considering my obscene wealth.

According to Greg the dogwalker who also does tarot readings and dream interpretations, Perry is an old soul. He's on his sixth and final life as a dog, because after this life he will be done paying for the sins he committed while human. I feel lucky that I get to share his last dog life, and hope that whomever is in charge of reincarnation sees that he is being a very good boy. Happy second birthday, Perry. Kisses.

R.I.P. Bea Arthur (1922-2009)

Shady Pines, ma

Tragic news - Bea Arthur, a.k.a Dorothy Zbornak, a.k.a Maude, has died at age 86 from cancer. I'm just too devastated to think of anything clever. Golden Girls is my favorite show, and I am a major, MAJOR fan. I have autographs of all the Girls, and the first time I went to L.A., my first order of business was getting one of those celebrity maps that had the Golden Girls' houses on it. I took pictures in front of Betty and Bea's houses, but unfortunately I lost the film so they never got developed. Several years ago, I saw Bea Arthur on Broadway, "Just Between Friends," along with every gay man in Manhattan. We're going to miss you, Pussycat. Thank you for being a friend.

Here are some classic scenes with Bea and the Girls:

1. I Got You Babe
2. Miami is Nice
3. Miami Lovers

My Ear, Part II

My right ear continues to be clogged and ring for two days following the Rite Aid amoxicillan disaster. It's Tuesday and at 12pm sharp I'm sitting in Phyllis my new shrink's office attempting to blame my parents for my shortcomings and she says "You seem a little distracted," at which point I tell her that I can't focus on feeling sorry for myself today because it feels like someone put a bubble over my ear and the ringing sounds like someone forgot to turn off the tv but not the cable box - like a high pitched buzz that will not go away. I tell her that my mom prescribed amoxicillan for me and she rolls her eyes and goes into an MD-less diatribe about how doctors are out of control with the prescriptions these days that that what I ACTUALLY have is a simple ear wax problem, which she has had before. She then asks me if I pick my ears with my fingers and I say, "Occassionally when no one is looking which is embarrassing to admit but mainly I use a Q-Tip" and then she slams her hand down on her leg and tells me that I've moved a piece of ear wax into my inner ear and will need either a doctor to remove it or I could just buy one of those ear wax removal kits.

Overjoyed that I don't have to pay $8,000 for a doctor, I race out of the appointment and go to CVS where I am forced to ask a salesperson where the ear wax stuff is because I can't find it myself, thereby undergoing extreme humiliation, and I "Murine Ear Wax Removal System" and grab a cab home in order to rid myself of this terrible wax as quickly as possible. The kit says to apply between 5 to 10 drops of this gross softener into my ear, tilt my head for "several minutes" and the flush it out with a plastic blue eye-dropper pump contraption filled with warm water. I determine that 7 drops is the correct amount for me, and then lay on my left side for 5 minutes while attempting to read a book out of my right eye because the left one is crushed against a pillow.

Unfortunately the contact prescription in my right eye has never been great, so the words are all blurry and I get nauseous from reading so I have to put the book down and just lay there like an idiot for five minutes. After the time is up, I walk with a tilted head toward my kitchen sink, fill a plastic bowl with warm water and proceeds to squeeze this water into my ear which sounds really loud and feels like someone's peeing. I determine that the process has been ineffective, because the ringing is still there and the shit is still clogged, so I repeat the process which the Murine kit says I can do up to twice a day, and this time instill ten drops into my ear because I am playing with the big boys and not fooling around now. I again douse my ear in warm water, which has zero effect on the clogging and ringing, but I think maybe this wax removal takes time.

I retreat to my computer to look at expensive clothes and all of a sudden a sharp develops in my ear and jaw which feels like someone has stabbed me. My ear is noweven more clogged than before, the ringing is unbearable and I'm about to fire Phyllis and shoot someone.

Then, I remember that there's this NY Ear & Ear Infirmary, not far from my apartment. I'll just walk in there, I figure. This is an emergency, they'll have to see me immediately, I'll pay anything at this point and besides, who the hell is there at 2:30pm on a random Tuesday?

Who the hell, indeed...

Stay tuned for the "shocking" "conclusion" of "My Ear."

The New Trend

Ugh, today ANOTHER one of those dad-orchestrated-ponzi-scheme-and-then-killed-entire-family-before-killing-himself stories was in the news. Can people stop doing schemes and killing their families? It's getting really annoying at this point. Like if you're going to commit a trendy crime, pick EITHER a ponzi scheme OR killing your family, but you can't have both because that's just being greedy. If you kill your family and then yourself, that's tragic, or if you defraud investors, that's kind of lame, but put them both together and it's just a total shitshow because people have lost money and now there's no one to imprison for it.

Because I sincerely hope no one gets involved with someone who will murder them later on, I have developed the below checklist that you can use to determine whether your sig oth is involved in a ponzi scheme and plans to murder you and him or herself in the future:

1. Person you're dating owns a gun.
2. Person you're dating always clears his or her cache on Google and not just because they're trying to hide their porn trail.
3. Person you're dating does Publisher's Clearing House and sincerely believes that they've just won $25 million dollars.
4. Person you're dating likes going on dates to remote cliffs or hotel rooms in other cities.
5. Person you're dating gets defensive while playing Clue when you accuse Colonel Mustard of doing it with the wrench in the conservatory.
6. Person you're dating seems normal.
7. Person you're dating likes money more than usual.