Sammy's Club

In this, the apocalyptic year of 2020, expect the unexpected. I received notice today that our very own mad plague doctor himself, Doctor Sammy, has been spotted.

No need to fear it as a bad omen. In fact it is quite fortuitous in that tomorrow is the warren’s all time favorite holiday: HALLOWEEN!

A big “thank you” to the reader who sent this in – there truly are no words. 

Welp.

Back to the drawing board. Literally!

I got a new phone.

Look at my new phone.

LOOK AT IT.

This phone has 4 cameras. I think we all know what that means …

And there are filters!

I will leave you with this because I cannot stop laughing at it:

I saw that someone had left me a phone message at the wee hour of 9:00 am in the morning. [Don’t judge. I’m vampirish in nature].

I pushed play and it went something something something MEDICAL “please return the call as soon as possible …”

O, crap. My heart went into my throat. I immediately knew my lady bits Doctor took another look at the lady bits biopsy and found something amiss with my lady bits. [It’s called hypochondria].

A new month is dawning in 2020 after all. What fresh hell could possibly lay ahead? lie ahead? be in store?

I followed the phone message instructions.

A friendly voice answered and enquired about how she might help me.

“I was instructed to dial this number and then press the number 2 —
So I did.”

There was a bit of a pause and then a giggle. All I heard was “to schedule a mammogram” and I groaned a long toddler-like groan, “Whyyyyyyyy?” I finally surrendered. “Fine. Do it then,” I snapped oh, so tersely.
Another snicker.

NOTE: I did not realize I had choices in mammograms! These are exciting times! O, advanced technology, thy name is – 3D.

She went on with, “For verification purposes could you

P̷̘͎̈́̄͐́̂̾̉̓̋͌̆̅̊̒́̚͘͝l̶̢̨̬̠̹̥͇̆̃̍̅͂̏͘͘͘͜ẻ̶͓̗̮̳̜̼̪̙̻͕̭̜̰̝̙̲̏͆̀̈́͛̔̽̆̌̂͛͘̕̕̕͜á̵̩̃́̀̄͒̂̈́̾̈́s̸̢͖͓̗͉̖̺̟̤͉̦͆́̓́̇̋́̓̒͝͝͝ȩ̴̢̛̱̖͓̟̫̻̳͙̹̯̰͍̘̔̐̒͂̑̓͌̈́̾̃̔̈́̚͝ͅ ̶̧̢̰̪̫͙̠͈̌̎͂̆̃̿̆̿̊͂̓̉̀̿̍̊͘͜s̶̬͚̳͈̟̲̞̝͎̗̫̮̬̳̰̲͑̋̄̎́́͗̌̀͛͂̏̿̊̎͆͂͝t̷̡̗̖̼̲͕̥͔̰̟̫̃͐́͛̋͆̆͘͘a̷̢̢̖̞̻̝͙̗̟̹̻̦͍̝̪̪͕͗̉͑̾̇͛̑͘͜͝t̵̖̹̭̹͖͙̙̦̩̫̞̠̩͍̟̲̙͙͛̄̌e̴̡̨̢͖͖̥͙̱̝̍̀̽͒́͜ͅ ̸̧̥̹̺̫̙̞͇̗̯̗̪͉̼̹͖̦̂͊̿͜ẙ̶͈̰̯̺̘̯̼̖̬̄̂̽̋̅̊́̈̅͑͌̀̿͗ͅő̸̝̝͔͚̼͎̘̹̙̣͍̻̀̓̋̂́̀̕͜u̴̧̢̡̦̞̙̻͖̗̯̩͇̬̳̯̘̿͆̊̇́͆̈́͆̀̑͂̊̑̈̄̋͘͜͠r̸̙̬̖͖̗͖̿̍̏̔̓̉͗̌̋͂͝͝ͅ ̸͍̞̹̩̐͂̈́̆̐̍̈́́͑͆͋̉̋͑̆̽̚̚n̸̢̡̖̬͎͔̺̬͕͔̝̟̳̞̼̦̩͗̇͆a̵͙̣̝̭͖͒m̸̛̰̫̖̭̽̒̃̓͊͌͐͌̐͒̆̽̀͒̚͝ͅė̷̹̯̝͈̖͆͆̇̎̂͋̏̋́͝͝ ̷̥̯̖̬͂́͌͑͌̏̾̊͗̊͝ͅ ?”

Me: WAT

The woman on the other end of the phone suddenly burst into hysterical laughter.
So I did what any red-blooded American would do: I returned the revelry.
For 10 minutes straight.

I have no idea what the hell we were laughing at or about, but I got a runner’s cramp.

She finally continued:
May I have

T̴̬͉̤̜̗̺̰̝͕͉̙̳̜͐̈̄̐̐̒͜͝h̵̨͓̗̰̦̚e̸̛͇̱̭͓͕͓̙̣͔͑̈́̅̍̆̊̂͆͜ ̴̬̎̐̀̊͒̌͗̀̌̀̓̽͂̍͘͝͝ͅl̵̛̟̮̱͒͊͛̉̒̽͆̈́̏̉̈́̔̄̇͆͘͠a̶̛̭̙͓̼̜̫̥̘̬͂͋́̈́̅̓̀̒́̆͗s̴̡̪͈̺͇͚̘̞̲̰̣͑̒̈̽̽̇̌̿͝͠ͅt̵̖͙̫̦͌̆͗̉̒́͂̍̒̋̌͂̚̚͠ ̴̧͍͎̯̇͌͊̐̓̚̚f̴̙̹̠͖̘̲̺̅̀̀͜ȍ̸͉͙̜̏́͗̈̅́͌̐̌͝ư̶͈̲̻̭̱͔̎̀͂̓̓̃̐͂̋̍̃̀̈̕̕͝r̸̥͎̼͈̀̓̀͌̒̆̿͛̆̉͂̋́̀́̚͠͝ͅ ̴̧̬͓̦͍̅̾̊͑͘͝͝d̷̛̪́̈̓̈́̂̌̆̽̌̚ͅi̸̢̛͖̱̞̺̙͍͚͙̮͈̽̏̆͋̅͠ǵ̵̢̢̛̯͉̙͕̙̦̬͓͎̟̳͙̺̭̓͑͊͑͌̀̉̚͜i̸͍̖̰̘̞̣̲̟͛̇́̽̈́͘t̵̨̢̨̞̙͓͓̬̫̟͚͕̠͍̏̓̌̈́̏͐͒̄̀̄̌̓̚̚͝͝͠ͅs̵̢̛̜̭͇͎͖͎͈̳̖̮̰͒͐̍̌̐̈́̄̃̂͑̚͝ ̶̮͔͉̭̟̦̤͉̟̥̱̩̽̋̃̑͋͒͂͐̒͘̚̚͜͝ͅơ̵̝̤͍͇̠̭͌̀͌f̷̡̱̩͓̝͍̘̱̘̟̠͙̰͓̺͖̖̆͌̐̕ ̴̧̥͓͇̙̯̰̞̻̼͍̹̱͐̄͆̇̈ẙ̸̡̨̧̡̱͉͓̘̹̳͇̣̥̗͕̫̓̓̒͆͗̈́̂̔̒͂͗̒̔̿̚̕͜ớ̸̡̢̪̹̝͎̲̰͈̰͍̈̑̈́́̄͂͗̓̔̾̊̾͌̕u̶͍̳̣͈̯̘̰͕̺͈̜̪͆̈́͜͜r̶͈̝̩͎͎̜̻̫̩̲̠̖̥̯̾̄͛̃̌̅̕͠ͅ ̸̧͔̮͓̪̘̬̪̮͎̜͚̗͖̝͌ͅs̵̢͍͈̼̻̊̋̈́̈́͌͂́̈͗̅̽̚͘͠͝s̵̛͔̓̈́̊̂ ?”

Me: WAT.

And it all started again.

Eventually, we did manage to get to the most important information such as we both gained lots of weight during quarantine, she lives near me and we both have noticed the inordinate number of local skinny suburban housewives in yoga pants that we both lovingly referred to as “Karens.”

“You know,” I say, “you may have seen me walking to the lake. Can’t miss me. I have long red hair and dress, comparitivly to Karen, dumpy.”

Her: OH MY GOD! DO YOU WALK LIKE YOU’RE ANGRY?!

Well, obviously it was me. It’s a no-brainer. Hey – you would look angry too if you had daily existential crisises criseeze crises if you were a nihlist.

I directed her to my website to see my photo for verification.

OH MY GOD IT IS YOU!!

She was looking at the comic.

The conversation and chortling continued.
For 45 minutes.

She shared how to work out while holding an ice cream cone and I shared how to do butt and leg lifts while laying in bed at night eating potato chips – never missing a chip.

We even shared things I can’t write about publicly. Well … I shared things I can’t … you know … write about publicly because I have no boundaries. [The call may have been recorded for quality assurance] *ahem*

When there was a lull in the wackiness action I asked, “So what time is this appointment?”

“Ten a.m.”

“Wait. I asked for afternoon.”

Trying to stifle guffaws she blurts out, “I FORGOT!!” and then we returned, yet again, back to the beginning levels of jocularity. We did not pass “GO” we did not collect $200. I snorted. I cried. And – I peed my pants.

My rabbits looked disturbed and that made it all the funnier.

I realize there is a good possibility that this is one of those “you had to be there” events – Still, I highly recommend some good howling laughter for everyone.

Watch this:

Ok. Try watching it at 3 am after eating a family sized pack of Oreos, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and thinking about death. It’s freaking hilarious!

It seems I found a lost member of my tribe. In these times of insanity and uncertainty, it was an unexpected connection and a much-needed catharsis.

It truly is the best medicine. Especially for existential hypochondriacs like me.

As one day bleeds right into the next, I thought I’d stop in and say “hi.”
hi.

I would now like to present to you, the reader, with my 2020 Working Calendar :

• January
• February
• March¹
• March²
• March³
• March⁴
• March⁵
• March⁶
• ?
• ?
• ?
• ?

I both finished and started commissions that probably should have been done in March¹. I was not expecting Covid to not only shut down my quaint little burgh, but also my ambition to muster any motivation.

March² was more of the same. Each month of March¹²³⁴⁵⁶ brought something new and horrifying to the table. But I digress.

In moments of mind-numbing ennui, I went down many internet rabbit holes to discover many unknown facts. Whether it was learning about inside rifts of my favorite bands (it’s either money or a pink flamingo)

or finding the X with his future Mrs living in a brand new house on an episode of Cribs
And a bathroom I can play baseball in
And a king size tub
Big enough for ten plus me. 

Forgive me. March⁶ has been particularly stressful.
I just had a Nickelback flashback.

Anyway, I found this gem:

Things I found en route to finding other things …