Kiss my butt...er goodbye

So I did the physical yesterday. I know you're expecting to hear something along the lines of a prostate. No sir. This particular doctor doesn't do that til your 40. That mean I have a couple of years to find a Dr. Who does it at 41. Er higher. Either that or find a small woman Dr. with very tiny fingers. Very tiny.

BP is great. Pulse is awesome. Weight is down. So I got my lab results. Good news: Not going to die. Well anytime soon anyways. Cholesterol is a bit higher than before. Excuse me? Did you rub my lamp? I lost weight, bitches. LOST. Not gained. It was fucking higher. Now my dad's is high. Thank you, mutherfucking DNA. No offense, dad. Max busts my chops all the time for missing adult teeth, so it's not personal.

Higher? How do you like them apples? So I'm like WTF? (What the FUCK?) Then I went for a snack. What did I go for? Saltines. OK fine they are just fine. Slap some butter on them... Oh fuck. Whooop there it is. I have to cut butter. (No not cheese, please I'm above that.) I have to lose the butter. God dammit. I *like* butter. It's my favorite way to take in salt!