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Month: December 2022

Behold! Be Delighted When You See My Glorious Bonus Material!

9 Min Read

In the spirit of the season, here’s a little something extra for all you faithful fans out there.

As they say, “Take a look inside”…


Hints were dropped. That’s all I gotta say. Any chance I got to allude to Cami’s true nature, per se, I took. So if you were complete blindsided by The Big Reveal, then that’s kinda on you. Or maybe not. Maybe I did my job of actually keeping a secret from you Dear Readers much better than any one expected.

Once I finally got to the part in the story where I went to the Urgent Care–i.e. “The Cami Chapter”–I got the idea to perhaps I shouldn’t reveal every detail of that situation right away. And then it became a game of how long I could write about Cami before I could no longer hide the truth–which, by the way, was incredibly challenging from both the writing standpoint, as well as from the storytelling/narrative weaving perspective.

Anyways, I was a little proud of myself for slow-burning the whole situation as long as I did. But that’s beside the point. What I would hope one might do after The Big Reveal would be to go back and read all the Urgent Care posts with fresh eyes and see if they could pick up on all the little Easter eggs I had dropped in there. Kinda like watching The Sixth Sense the second time.

Well, if you don’t have that kind of time on your hands, let me give you a little cheat sheet:

Never Under Estimate The Value, Jack, Of An Astute Nurse:
straight to Death’s Doorstep…

Rare Pleasures, Tawdry Treasure–‘Tis The Life For Ol’ Captain BlueBalls!: …I heard about that only recently and I was very curious

You Never Learned How To Say ‘No’ In Spanish? Fantastic! (courtesy of Nurse Cami’s texts): …no agendaopen to learn more…

Who Doesn’t Know How To “Keep Things On The Download”?: (quick note: Alex, in an ironic plot twist, was actually Alexandra, though I had tried to be ambiguous about her true nature as well) …”you know, get you straightened out”…keep it on the down low

Not Sure How To Say This, My Beautiful Bride, But…: …Give it to me straight, Doc…I’m going to give it to you straight, Doc…

The Truth About That Urgent Care? Oh, It’s Out There…: ..it’s out there…Some stories, well, they’re straight-forward. And then there are some stories you simply can’t tell with a straight face…shame on you for your lifestyle choices…one or two spectacular–nay, gloryous–plot holes1You probably don’t want to click here in the story…I can’t say I’m exactly, uh, proud of that…It was time for me to set the record straight…are you really going to make me, ermm, come out and say it?…


Ambiguity. Whether it’s in how the name of that one particular drug is pronounced, or who, exactly, is trying to get into my pants, ambiguity ended up being a recurring theme in this tale.

Yet another opportunity to lean into the idea of multiple interpretations arose when trying to figure out the title for Yo, The Great Cornholio Don’t Need No Stin*ing Warning Signs! The hope was that one would naturally think that the ‘*’ was supposed to be a ‘k’, i.e., “…don’t need no stinking warning signs.”

…which was actually inspired by the line from the Weird Al movie, UHF, “Badgers? Badgers?!? We don’t need no stinking badgers!” (You know you wanna watch that clip…click right here, buddy boy.)

…which was riffing on a line from the Mel Brooks hit satirical western, Blazing Saddles, “Badges?!? We don’t need no stinking badges!” (You can watch that clip here.)

…which in turn was referencing the line “Badges?!? We don’t go no badges…we don’t need no badges. I don’t have to show you no stinking badges!” from–and I quote Wikipedia now–“the 1948 film The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. That line was in turn derived from dialogue in the 1927 novel of the same name, which was the basis for the film.” (Watch that clip here.)

Dang. I had no idea that my post title had such rich pop-cultural heritage until literally right now. Before this moment, I had only heard the line first-hand in UHF, and vaguely knew that it was a reference to another movie. Welp, as they say:

Oh, jeez, I totally forgot what I was saying there. My apologies. The point was that, after reading the story, one would say, “ahh, I see now! The ‘*’ could also be a ‘g’! ‘…no stinging warning signs!’ Right, because of the wasp really sticking it to him and what-not. Hmph. Clever…”


I lived through the 90s. I mean, c’mon, those were the prime years of my youth, from when I was 9 until I turned 19. Yet somehow…

Yet, somehow I missed a certain nugget of pop culture, one that I didn’t even know existed until I was trying put together the picture for Who Doesn’t Know How To “Keep Things On The Download”? I had punched into Google’s image search ‘frustrated with floppy disk‘, and after a half-click scrolling down the page, I stumbled across this beauty:

No, it wasn’t the picture I was looking for. But it was the picture we all deserved.

It was an image from the Wikipedia page for “Don’t Copy That Floppy”2https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Don%27t_Copy_That_Floppy…and anti-software piracy campaign from 1992. And, according to the YouTube description of the flagship video for this campaign, “The Stupidest Rap.”

So of course I had to watch the whole video. And boy did it live up to the hype. It was incredibly ----- stupid. It was so horrible that I couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sort of reverse-Mandela Effect3https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/False_memory#Mandela_Effect in which, as a society, have collectively chosen to forget something actually happened, but was just too embarrassing to have to admit having lived in society that actually allowed such garbage to be produced.

And, so of course I’m going to provide you with the chance to view this for yourself. Now, for your viewing displeasure, I present to you, “Don’t Copy That Floppy”:

Oh, goodness me…I just tried rewatching it…my eyes…they burn!

A few other notes about this post…while ‘keep things on the DL’–DL being short for ‘down low’–is now commonly used for just about anything that should be kept under wraps, The Down Low originally described married men who secretly engaged in same-sex dalliances on the side. Now given that I was trying to be ambiguous enough about Cami’s gender/sex/sexual preferences to keep the reader assuming that they were a ‘she’, I almost immediately regretted bandying that phrase about so freely. You know, because it might have made the true nature of reality a bit too obvious, and ruin the surprise reveal I was hoping to build up to later.

More about that title: it’s meant to be said incredulously, with some italics thrown in there. Like this: “Who Doesn’t Know How To “Keep Things On The Download”? Thus implying that everyone knows how to keep things on the down low–or if you buy into my ‘download’ joke–everyone knows how to run a computer. It’s questioning even the possibility of the existence of someone so moronic/idiotic/overly-honest that couldn’t keep a ----- secret and/or load a disk into a computer.

Except me. Me–me!–I’m the one who doesn’t know how to keep things “on the download”! Oh, and it also gave me a chance, in my FaceBook blurb, to thrown in a nice allusion to the male genitalia. You might protest and call me sophomoric, or even junior-high-ic, but you have to admit that ‘male genitalia’ definitely played an outsized role in The COVID Story…


If you read the title to You Never Learned How To Say ‘No’ In Spanish? Fantastic! and was left scratching your head, I wouldn’t blame you. To the untrained eye or ear, it might have sounded a little random, but I promise you it was actually a reference to something real on TV.

You see, when The Elder (now 9) was just a baby, Sesame Street was one of her favorite shows, and I enjoyed watching it with her. And what would my favorite part of that show be? Definitely Oscar the Grouch.

For some reason his pithy and biting “What now?!?” real resonates with me–and was a perfect pop culture reference to throw out when Cami started to blow my phone up with too many texts.

You can imagine then, my chagrin when I couldn’t find a readily available meme or gif to include in the post. The Perfect Oscar the Grouch quote, and I couldn’t even use it!

Anyways, my quest eventually let me to Google “Oscar the Grouch quotes,” thinking that surely “What now?!?” would surely make any and all lists of his top quotes. Welp, it didn’t. But I did come across another quote of his that inspired me to tie an Oscar the Grouch reference in with the predicament I was describing in that post.

Oscar, trying to figure out how to say ‘No’ in Spanish while in Puerto Rico, gets fed up with everyone telling him ‘No!’ when he asks: “Can’t anybody tell me how to say ‘no’ in Spanish?”

Everybody: “NO!”

Eventually I morphed that quote into the post title you now know and love, which implies that Cami, a native Spanish speaker, would have been delighted to learn that I don’t know how to say ‘No’–for example, when Cami asked for my phone number–and exploited that fact to his benefit.

Anywho…I wasted too much time tracking down the actual clip of this quote, so you better ----- well watch it so my efforts will at least count for something:


Did you ever wonder why the title Never Under Estimate The Value, Jack, Of An Astute Nurse didn’t quite roll off the tongue? It really would have sounded better as “Never Under Estimate4We’re going to ignore the fact that this should actually be ‘underestimate’ (one word). If you’re wondering, my title gets a higher SEO score if ‘Never’ is a separate word. The Value Of An Astute Nurse, Jack”, right? Right.

Well, I’m glad you asked! (Though, you’ll probably be less glad that you did.)

Now that you’ve read that post, you know that it was suggested by Our Favorite Nurse that perhaps my nether-region discomforts were from engaging in…uh…too much ‘auto-erotic activity’ while enjoying having a hotel room all to myself. So though I never explicitly used a certain colloquial synonym for that behavior, I couldn’t resist trying to hide it in the title.

You don’t see it yet? So, just add and extra ‘F’ to the end of ‘Of’.

Still nothing? Really?

Jack-Off. The magic hidden word was ‘Jack-Off’. Thanks for making me go and have to say it out loud. You know my mother is going to read this, right?


Oh, Taco Bell…do I have a story or two from my youth about you. And neither of those had very happy endings (fortunately, I’ll spare you those stories for now). Now that I’m grown and wise, I have learned my lesson about going 50 feet within that gastrointestinal hell-hole.

So when I realized that its brief cameo in Listen, What Happened Behind That Taco Bell Was Purely Survival offered me a chance to besmirch TB’s good name, you can bet your ass that I work-shopped titles for 3 hours until something humorously insulting popped out.

The real joke that I was going for here was implying that I had to debase myself in a random sketchy place in order to score some drugs. Which was partly true, but…but what I really hoped was that one would read that title, and ask themselves, “Wait, was my dude so desperate to get high that he went and sucked a fat ----- behind a Taco Bell?!?”

But, alas! I’m guessing that joke went right over most mother’s people’s heads. Probably for the better though…

Oh, and by the way did you catch me going meta for a second there? Even in this post full of pointing Easter eggs, I couldn’t help but drop another allusitory one. Only mere paragraphs earlier, I dropped the term “happy endings”, which can sometimes have, er, ‘sexual connotations’…like what some douche bags expect at the end of a massage, right? (Deshaun Watson and Robert Kraft, I’m looking at you.)

Anyways, if the story had unfolded how you–being the pervert you are with your mind always in the gutter–expected it would after reading the title, then this would have been one Taco Bell story that did have a “happy ending”. I mean, it wouldn’t have been a happy ending for me, per se, but at least somebody would have had one…


Welp, there you have it my friends! A little taste of what went on behind the scenes in the retelling of the Long Tale of COVID! I hope you enjoyed seeing how the sausage was made.

Speaking of sausage…there were actually quite a few allusions peppered throughout the latter half of the stories that were in reference to a dude’s twig and/or berries if you will. Especially the little conversation that contained the phrase “bulging vein”–see if you can go back and track that one down. But I chose not explicitly point them all out like I did with the straight/gay terms above. I mean, hasn’t my dear mother suffered enough already?

…and speaking of one last and final bonus…fun fact: I see my mom on a regular basis, and have a pretty close and open relationship with her. There is very little I won’t tell her.

Well guess what I never actually told her in person? The entire Cami part of the story. She had no idea! Or…at least until she read my last 5 or so blog posts.

So, Dear Mother, as one of my most faithful and loyal readers, I suspected that you would eventually read these posts and (hopefully) be like “Wha?!? He never told me anything about that!” at all the ridiculous plot twists. My hope was to give you a more suspenseful and entertaining experience than if I had told you in person (and without a well-crafted narrative). I like to think of it as a special reward for supporting me through my blogging efforts so far…even when it means you have to endure my potty mouth and other vulgarities no mother should ever have to be exposed to.

All this? *waves hands around expressively at all of the Long Tale of COVID posts* I dedicate all this to you, Mom. I hope you enjoyed it…


Content created on: 21/23/24 December 2022 (Weds/Fri/Sat)

Footnotes & References:[+]

‘To All A Good Night’?!? This Is No Holiday Miracle, Alright?

5 Min Read

There’s a knock on the door; you call out “Who is it?!?”

You can only hope you don’t hear “Tis your Favorite Nurse, here for a home visit”…


Editor’s note: you have found yourself in the thick of the epic, the one, the only, The Long Tale of COVID. If you need to catch up, you can find all the posts here. Enjoy!


“So, are you going to text Cami back and tell ’em, ‘Thanks, but no thanks’ to the extramarital activities that were proposed?”

“I don’t know! I don’t want to be rude, yet I don’t want any feelings to get hurt. I mean, you’ve been a ‘pretty girl’ most of your life, 1Nobody talks about that school portrait from 5th grade… how do y’all go about dealing with all those unwanted advances?”

“Well…”

“YOU GOTTA HELP ME! I’ve never been a pretty girl before!”

Not only had I finally made it home to My Beautiful Bride after the most involuntarily interesting COVID-cation the world had ever seen, but I had finally finished up telling her all about the one chapter of the story that remained unresolved: being hit on/picked up by my Urgent Care nurse, Nurse Cami. And now I was desperate for advice how to get out of this pickle that I got into on account of 1) being a good listener, and 2) “not knowing how to say ‘No’ in Spanish.”

“Ja, what they say is true,” my breathtaking female companion and mother of my children finally replied, “It’s not easy being nice and pretty. It’s a rare feat that’s nearly impossible to pull off.”

“Yes, yes…quite the conundrum: how does one exactly go about asking someone–literally–‘Could you kindly ----- off?’ And I do mean ‘kindly’…”


“So…how was your night of getting some solid, uninterrupted rest? Wasn’t it totally worth the $298 for you to get a head start on the battle with your COVID? Ain’t I just the best hubby?!?”

Fast forward to the following morning, and I was keen to know exactly just how much My Beautiful Bride had benefited from swapping places with me and staying in that hotel room that I ’bout became broke and homeless trying to score. You know, the one that I had cajoled her into crashing at so I could–completely coincidentally, by the way–maybe have enough solitude to finish my weekly blog post.

“You didn’t tell me it smelled like smoke.”

Wait, what?

“That’s because it didn’t! At least not when I was in there. Somebody must of snuck in there during the few hours neither of was there and took a cigarette break. Don’t worry though, I’m on this! I’ll call the manager straigtaway and compl–“

She held up her hand to cut off my convoluted stream-of-consciousness hypothesis.

“You had COVID, you idiot. I bet the walls could have been covered in fecal matter and you still wouldn’t have noticed. Remember how you told me you couldn’t taste your ill-advised Chick-Fil-A meal at all? Because you couldn’t smell worth sh*t.

“Oh, right. I guess that’s a more likely explanation. So…on the bright side at least your sense of smell is going strong!”

The only reply that comment garnered was an icy stare. This was not going as well as I had hoped.

“Alrighty then. Well, how about sleep? Being close to the elevator didn’t bother me, but I of course had noise-cancelling headphones on.”

“Oh, the elevator wasn’t a problem…”

“That’s good to hear.”

“…the wedding reception that went long and strong until 2 or 3 in the morning on the other hand? Yeah, that was a problem. Let’s just say that it wasn’t one of those boring-ass white people weddings, either–and pardon me for being racist against your people.”

“What do you mean ‘your people‘?!?”

“Aw, give me a break, you’re as Caucasian as they come–for dat ass and doze lips–and you know it…”

“That’s true. But no unexpected visitors, right? Right? Right!”

“No, no unexpected visitors…but how were you so suspiciously confident that there wasn’t, hmmm?”

Apparently I paused too long before replying.

“Oh, dear Lord, please tell me you didn’t give Nurse Cami our home address…”


“Ah, finally! The wife is off to get some beauty rest at our expensive af hotel room, the girls are fast asleep in bed, and now, it’s time to finally get to word-smithing. Now, let’s see here…oh yeah, right, I was in the middle of trying to tie together a case of chronic athlete’s feet in with some Breaking Bad references…”

Rewind to the night before, and I was finally getting that “me-time” that I had been chasing in futility for the last 3 gawd-awful days. Nothing was going to stop me now. Not rain, not sleet, not snow, not amputated fee–

“BUZZ! BUZZ!

I could feel my phone letting me know I had a text message. Indubitably ’twas My Beautiful Bride, thanking my profusely for her luxurious accommodations. But…that’s odd…she has a Google phone. Her messages only go to my phone…it’s only people with iPhones whose iMessages I can see on my Mac…why do I have a new iMessage notification on my Mac?

“Oh. Shirt,” I blurted out so loudly I almost woke the kiddos:

You’ve gotta be ----- kidding me, my dude. At the very least, wait until I get over having the plague before trying to meet up with me!

But maybe–just maybe–he’s truly this concerned with every patient that he interacts with. Or at least the ones that come into his Urgent Care, convinced that they’re dying of COVID-related skin-worms…

“BUZZ! BUZZ!

Oh, jeez:

“Aww, hell, nah! Nope. Nope, nope, nope. You sir, are NO angel–and I ain’t got time for your late night ‘you up?’ come-ons.”

So, what did I do, you must be wondering? Well, I did what every pretty girl like me does in a situation like this.

I deleted his number, ghosted his ass, and did the one thing I had set out to do from the very beginning: finish my ----- blog post…


And that, my friends, is your cue to tip back that heavily-spiked eggnog of yours, as that is indeed the third and final context in which we have heard the term ‘ghost’ used!

Whew! Finally it’s all over–just in time for the holidays, no less!

Oh! That reminds me….

*rustles around noisily in his cheap Santa sack*

…I have something especially for you, Dear Reader. For having stuck it out with me on this epic journey, I have a Christmas gift that is all yours! For our Christmas Day edition of The Point of the Story this year, we’ll be releasing the bonus notes* for the Long Tale of COVID! An easy, loosely-structured read, covering various bits of trivia, behind-the-scenes look at all those stupid post titles I had to come up with, and Easter–or should I say ‘Christmas’?–Eggs that you may have overlooked.

I bet you just can’t wait for Christmas morning, now, can you?!?

*P.S. Reader Discretion Advised


Content created on: 14/15 December 2022 (Weds/Thurs)

Footnotes & References:[+]

I’m Just Curious…Does This Really Need To Be Revisited?

6 Min Read

When someone has a quasi-traumatic life experience, it’s natural to take time to process it.

But your dude? He doth processeth too much…


Editor’s note: you have found yourself in the thick of the epic, the one, the only, The Long Tale of COVID. If you need to catch up, you can find all the posts here. Enjoy!


“Jeez, how much longer am I going to have to hear about this? Just blog about it and get on with your life already!”

…and yet, here I am 6 months later, still trying to process things. But first, let’s go back to the moment My Beautiful Bride uttered those fateful words. Now, while she is generally emotionally supportive, My Double-B had already heard enough of me puzzling over how I had let myself get picked up on by my overly-attentive nurse during my now-infamous trip to the Urgent Care.

Okay, so I didn’t technically get “picked up” by Nurse Cami.

Weaseled my phone number out of me and texted me an improper amount of emojis? Yes. Yes, that did happen.

Was I picked up though? No, it didn’t quite come to that.

Oh, and technically–SPOILER ALERT! If you haven’t already read the previous installments of this ----- sh*tshow that was me trying to manage my COVID, you better stop right now and go back so you can enjoy the full drama and intrigue–uh…now, where was I again?

Right. *ahem*: And technically, Nurse Cami, was, well, a dude.

So, not only was I offered up the opportunity to have an affair, but also the chance to try something completely different. Completely. Different.

I kinda like to think of it as “a personal invitation to an exclusive club”…and while I’m flattered, I’m pretty certain that is not the life for me. Nevertheless, like Jerry Seinfeld once noted, “men know that deep down we have weak sales resistance”1 https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0697741/characters/nm0000632 and that we should be concerned that “we can be talked into anything”–including…well, you know…

But! Praytell, though, made this guy take one look at me and say, “You look like a man I could a best friend with…”

To which I would have said, “But what about the hoes?”

And he would have of course replied with the airtight logic of, “Who needs the hoes?”

(Okay, just go watch this YouTube clip real quick so you can appreciate what I just did there….golly, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting drop that reference…)

But I slightly digress…the question still stands: “Was it something I said?”

Do I just naturally use phrases in my everyday language that coincidentally happen to be buzzwords in that particularly community?

Like, am I always going around putting out a strong, “Well, I’m usually a donut type of guy, but man, I really wanna try a hot dog if only had the chance” type of vibe? I really need to know if I’m a walking *chick-magnet, you know? I don’t wanna be unwittingly breaking gay men’s hearts left and right.

So, maybe I need to go back and take a closer look at that ill-fated conversation with Nurse Cami. And, yes, if you hadn’t picked up on it by now, I’ve just suckered you into being my therapist for the next few minutes.

I present to you now, in no particular order, snippets from Conversaciones con Camilo


“I’m staying at a hotel by myself…”

I guess if I lead with this, then maybe I could see how one might mistake that for being a detail that I really, really wanted to get across. An invitation even, perhaps.

Nevertheless, it was important contextual information related to my health condition, and I judge myself innocent on this count.

“Do you mind if I poke around here in your groin region?” said Nurse Cami at one point.

“Sure thing!” I said, “You seem like a trustworthy medical professional…”

Famous last words, you naive idiot…

*note: this naive idiot was experiencing discomfort in the groin region, so…again, context matters*

When ol’ Cami for some reason brings up his, uh, ‘adult pleasure paraphernalia’ collection, what do I say?

Well, in my head: “I pride myself on being a great listener,2Yes, I know I talk A LOT. But believe it or not, I have some pretty sweet listening skills. I just don’t like to show them off. Because I’m humble. Extremely humble. and it’s nice to give people the gift of being heard…”

But out loud, all Cami hears is “…oh please, do tell me more!”

Cami, talking a bit too frankly (because I was too nice and missed my chance about 5 topics back to stop the conversation from getting this far): “I really want to try more of those crazy techniques you read about on the internet, but not by myself–really would like a ‘friend’ to experiment with.”

Me, not picking up on the implied ‘wink, wink’, and hoping he finds happiness in life: “Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone to try all those crazy things with you.”

Me, about halfway through Cami’s life story: “Oh, so you didn’t really identify as gay until your late 20s? Tell me about that–I’m always curious to hear people’s stories of personal growth and change. Take me, for example: my whole life, olives were my sworn enemy, but around 30, I suddenly understood how to appreciate them. I’ve even grown to love them!”

Cami (paraphrased): “Yeah, it was just like that! Except what I learned to love was the salami…”

Cami, wrapping up things: “Well, I’ve really enjoyed our talk.”

Me, trying to show my genuine appreciation of the opportunity to make an unexpected human connection in the most unlikely of places: “It’s been a pleasant surprise. It’s been a real…pleasure, indeed.”

By the way, back when I mentioned Cami had to decide “what direction [he] wanted [his] life to head in” when he first moved to the U.S.–yeah, remember that?–well, at that time, being the indecisive guy he is, he swung both ways, so to speak. But in embarking upon his new life on American soil, for some reason he decided things would be much simpler if he chose a side when it came to boys vs. girls. Obviously, he chose to be a Macho Man.

And so now…

Speaking of random asides, how about threes cheers for pronouns, eh? You have no idea how impossibly hard it has been for me to not use pronouns during the last 5 Cami-related posts. So, he/him, she/her, they/them–no matter what pronouns you prefer, I thank you for greatly simplifying the process of creating intelligible sentences!

Nurse Cami: “So do you work out much?”

Me, thinking that he’s asking me a healthcare-related question: “No, not really since the pandemic started. But I’ve been pretty active lately remodeling my porch and back deck. You know, doing a lot of construction-type work on my house…”

Nurse Cami: “Oh, really? How interesting…”

Meanwhile, Nurse Cami’s imagination:

Me, noticing the far-off look in his eyes: “What ya thinking about, my dude?”

Nurse Cami: “Oh, nothing at all…”

Me in Nurse Cami’s imagination:


At the end of the day, I had to look deep into my own eyes in the mirror, and ask myself: “Am I…am I Tobias Fünke from the cult-classic TV show, Arrested Development?”3https://arresteddevelopment.fandom.com/wiki/Tobias_F%C3%BCnke

The really tragedy in this moment is that more likely than not, Dear Reader, you have never watched that show, and thus would have to work really hard to appreciate the humor in the fact that I would ask myself that question.

But fear not! I shall leave you with a couple of YouTube clips that actually somewhat captures the long-running joke that Tobias–“the world’s first self-proclaimed analyst/therapist” or ‘analrapist’, as he prefers–says so many things with a straight face4Pun intended–completely oblivious to how, well, overtly gay he sounds:

Tobias, you blowhard!

To quote Michael Bluth, may be I had “just so many poorly chosen words in that sentence…”


Oh! But wait! We are not done yet! Almost done, but not quite…have you already forgotten about my promise to deliver a certain G-word not once, not twice, but three times throughout this story?

Nay, just like Peter hearing the ----- crow thrice before the man he loved really got nailed–

Oh. I see what Michael Bluth (from that last YouTube clips above that you definitely just watched) means when he told Tobias:

“Just so many poorly chosen words in that sentence…”


Content created on: 9/10/11 December 2022 (Fri/Sat/Sun)

Footnotes & References:[+]

The Truth About That Urgent Care? Oh, It’s Out There…

4 Min Read

Some stories, well, they’re straight-forward.

And then there are some stories you simply can’t tell with a straight face…


Editor’s note: you have found yourself in the thick of the epic, the one, the only, The Long Tale of COVID. If you need to catch up, you can find all the posts here. Enjoy!


“And then you know what did after all that? I went and ate me some Chick-Fil-A–and to make things even worse, I didn’t even enjoy it since I couldn’t taste a dang thing! I feel so ashamed!”

“…because you ate junk food when your body needed something much more nutritious to help it fight off the COVID? Yeah, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

I had just been filling in My Beautiful Bride–aka The Boss Lady–on all the inglorious details of my recent trip to the Urgent Care, and her response was…”shame on you for your lifestyle choices”? Seriously?!?

I mean, c’mon! If you’ve been following along to the soap opera that was my COVID quarantine, then you already know that I had suffered enough already up to this point–and meat-shaming her (mostly) vegan husband was the last thing she should had have been doing!

“Huh? What? Ashamed for pampering my poor self by splurging on some greasy goodness? After all I’ve been through? No, that’s called ‘self care’, my dear.”

“Okay, then, why were you so ashamed you ate Chick-Fil-A, hmmm?”

“Oh, right…yes. Well, I guess there just might be one or two spectacular–nay, glorious–plot holes in the story I just told you…”


“Wait, wait, before you go any further, is this the real reason why you wanted me to stay at the hotel tonight instead of you?” the Boss Lady suspiciously inquired.

“Um…well, if I’m being completely honest, yeah, just a wee bit. I just have had enough stress these last few days, and I can’t handle the thought of dealing with any unexpected and unwelcome late-night visitors.”

“Oh, man, you really know how to make a woman feel loved, don’t you?”

I sheepishly cast my gaze downward.

“I know, I know…I can’t say I’m exactly, uh, proud of that…”

My beautiful bride didn’t seem to hear me, as she proceeded to imagine how her night just might go.

“I can see it now…Nurse Cami knocks at the door and I answer…

Nurse Cami: ‘Who are you?!?’

‘I’m the Wife, you hussy! And let me guess–you? You’re the Other Woman, hmmm?’

And then I would indignantly slap–“

I stopped her mid-sentence. I could not let this go any further.

“Wait, hold up: other woman? Who said anything about any ‘woman’?”

It was time for me to set the record straight.

“Uh…’Nurse Cami’, hello?!?”

*Heavy sigh*

“There is no ‘other woman’…never was, either.”

“What you talking?1This is not a typo or bad grammar on my part, it’s a quote from the hit Canadian show, Kim’s Convenience. Sadly, I was not fruitful in my effort to procure a YouTube clip for your viewing pleasure. Did you…make all that up?”

“Jeez, are you really going to make me, ermm, come out and say it?”

“Say what?”

“I may have withheld two tiny little, itty-bitty details.”

“Really? You’ve basically laid out how you could have had an affair, so, kudos for your honesty…but there’s actually more?”

“Uh…yeah. And those two details are…El-Oh.”

“The heck you talking about?”

“That Nurse Cami…well, to be truthful, is actually Nurse Cami…LO…”

“Nurse CamiLO?”

“Yup. Nurse Camilo.”

“Oh…*snort*…now the pieces of this puzzle are starting to come together…”

“I mean, I was just trying to be a nice guy and accept those who come into my orbit for who they are, you know, ‘be the kindness you want to see in this world’ and all that jazz…”

“Wait, wait, wait, just shut your pie-hole for one second–you mean to tell me you let yourself get picked up by your male nurse?!? And you actually gave this ‘Nurse Camilo‘ your phone number?”

“But he was so nice, and I didn’t want to be rude. Plus, I thought maybe he really did only want to be ‘solo amigos‘–you know I try to make the effort to assume the best in people…”

“Well, I’m surprised you let it get that far…I mean, even before I knew ‘Nurse Cami’ was a dude, I could tell they were out to get your digits from a mile away!”

“Look, I kinda had other things on my mind…you know, like, “DEAR GOD, I MIGHT BE GETTING EATEN TO DEATH BY THE WORMS UNDER MY SKIN!”

“Likely story…”

“I swear, I’m tellin’ ya the truth!”

“Oh, oh, oh! I can’t even! Bwah-hah-hah-ha!”

“It’s not that funny.”

“Wait…*gasp*…I…*gasp*…can’t…*gasp*…I can’t breath!”

“You can stop rolling on the floor in laughter now, dear.”

“I’m…*sob!*…I’m crying!”

“Hell-o?!? Can’t you see that the love of your life is emotionally shook to his core by all this???”

*brief pause*

“Who would have thunkit…*low whistle*…my very own husband just might be an honorary member of the local Gay Latino community now…wow. Just wow.”

“It may be honorary, but it is most definitely involuntary! Completely involuntary, I say! All I did was accidentally give him my number!”

“Man, you must have really made an impression on him with your, uh, ‘dried goods’ on full display. He took look one look at that, and said, ‘I just gotta get my hands–‘ “

Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Jeez, can you just give it up already? I’m embarrassed enough as it is, and now you gotta be busting my ba–I mean, chops–I said chops!”

“Ohhhh…*guffaw*…but you started to say–“

“Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! No, I didn’t say that–you thought I was going to walk right into that one, but I said ‘chops’ instead! Let the record show–let the record show!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be done for now.”

“Sheesh. Thank you.”

*momentary pause*

“…But I now see what you mean about being ashamed that you turned around and ran off to the nearest Chick-Fil-A…think you maybe over-corrected there a bit much?”

“I know, I know…I swear I’m an open-minded ‘ally.’ Just not…you know…that open-minded. And it just had to happen now.”

“You mean when you have COVID?”

“No, I mean in the month of June…”

“Ah, I see.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup.”

*another pause*

“Welp,” she quipped, “I can’t possibly imagine a more appropriate way to end Pride Month…”


But wait! Is there more? Yes! There must be more! There are just too many unanswered questions, right?

Does my Beautiful Bride get her beauty rest? Does Nurse Camilo come back to haunt anybody? And what, pray tell, exactly did I say in that fateful conversation with Nurse Camilo that got us in this pickle-dodging mess in the first place?

There’s only one to find out, Dear Reader, only one way…Stay. Tuned.


Content created on: 2 December 2022 (Friday)

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