We're going in again

This is gross.

I warned you. You are forewarned. Gross. Of course you're still reading, but if I had said "upcoming stoopid movie spoiler" you'd have closed the browser cursing me for even posting such things. Drawing pentagrams on the floor in goats blood (no not rental goats and no that's not the gross part.) pentagrams dedicated to my upcoming misfortune. (I wonder what kind of google hits with rental goats and pentagram near each other.)

I have a wart. I went to the Dr. last friday and waited a long time to be treated by a surfer disguised as a dr.

Seriously.

I showed it to him and he said in your best spicoli in your head please not out loud after all you have coworkers (not making this up) "Yeah buddy, we'll fix youuuu right UP. Oh but I gotta run upstairs to get the liquid nitroooo, hope that's all right?"

Me: "um yeah"

"Excellent" (Yes straight out of fast time at ridgemont high)

He comes back and the nurse is all I'll clean your foot off before he does it. He walks right in behind her, "Alrighty, dude let's get to it." He starts in. Fine my foot was clean whatever. I'm all owch. and he's all "Yeah dude this is gonna turn black and just FLAAAAKE off" (his emphasis).

Did it turn black? No.
Did it stop hurting? No.
Did it stop (gross part right here) growing? NOPE.

So today I'm going to my Dr. He's a nice typical doc right from central casting. His name is Larry. I think all Dr.'s should be named Larry.

Maybe some of you already have goat's blood pentagrams guiding the fates to lead me to Jeff Spicoli, MD.