Category Archives: Sick

>It’s No Longer Funny, Now It’s Just Sick


Okay, I admit it, I’ve made great fun out of the troubles of Charlie Sheen. Everything from “accidentally” shooting Kelly Preston to holding a knife to wife Brooke Mueller’s throat to trashing a hotel room while a porn star hides in the closet.

Good times.

But now, as his show seems on the verge of collapsing, or, at the very least, continuing on without him, Charlie has been giving interviews left and right, and proving that this isn’t funny.

This is a sick sick man.

When asked by TMZ who is parenting his ten-month-old twins, Sheen gestured to two young blondes that he calls his “goddesses”–one of whom is a verified porn actress–and several friends lounging in his back yard. “Everybody here is parenting the kids. They’re running into walls, but they’re screaming ‘Da-Da’ when they do it.”

Porn stars and drug addicts. In CPS involved yet. 

When asked if he had hit rock-bottom after his recent 36-hour bender with drugs and porn tars. Sheen said: “Isn’t that a fishing term?” And whenh asked if he is crazy, he says: “I’m grandiose.”

And how does Sheen say he will avoid the same drug-induced fate of stars like Michael Jackson and Heath Ledger, he says: “Don’t do drugs that are just supposed to be administered in a hospital at home. Read the frickin’ labels.”

When asked if he thinks he is an addict, he says: “No. No, I don’t. Because that’s a word and a thing that they tried to stick on me for 22 years. My conduct is bitchin’, my condition is perfect.”

And he loves his image as a drug-addicted, sex-addicted alcoholic: “I’m proud of what I created. Why wouldn’t I be? I exposed people to magic. I exposed them to something that they otherwise would not see in their boring normal lives. And I gave that to them! I mean, what’s not to love? Especially when you see how I party. Man, it was epic. The run I was on made Sinatra, Flynn, Jagger, Richards all of ’em just look like droopy-eyed armless children.”

Sheen said that after years of trying to stay clean, he decided to stop pretending to be someone else and just embrace his life: “Wrap both arms around it and love it violently. And defend it violently, through violent hatred.”

When asked if he is bi-polar, as some people are suggesting, he says: “What’s the cure, medicine to make me like them? Not gonna happen. I’m bi-winning. I win here, I win there. Now what? If I’m bipolar, aren’t there moments when a guy like crashes?”

He then adds: “You borrow my brain for five seconds and just be like ‘Dude, can’t handle it! Unplug this bastard!’ … It fires in a way that is perhaps not from this terrestrial realm.”

He also claims his partying days are over: “I am on a drug, it’s called ‘Charlie Sheen.’ It’s not available cuz if you try it once you will die. Your face will melt off and children will weep over your exploded body.”

Like I said, it seemed funny, until you hear his actual words, and now it just seems sad.



Filed under Charlie Sheen, Drug Addiction, Drugs, Sick, Uncategorized

>Free Opinions, No Waiting


Well, I had a follow-up visit with the doctor for my Shingles, and it was, all in all, a good report. It’s been roughly two-and-a-half-weeks since they began, and I am getting better every day.
The scabs on my face are dropping like flies, although the original one, right above my right eyebrow, is taking it’s sweet time to depart. I have been off work since the 17th of December due to the fact that Shingles is contagious, but more importantly due to the fact that i look like someone took a baseball bat to my head. I should be able to return to work next week–fingers crosses, and I can’t believe I’m saying that but I am bored out of my mind.
I have one more follow-up in two weeks, though, and hopefully, this madness will be nothing but a dim memory.

That wacky Pat Robertson believes god sent the blizzard to the northeast because god wanted to keep the gays from going out and doing gay things.
Note to Pat: We can stay in and do gay things.
Note # 2 to Pat: What about the straight folks that were hampered by the blizzard? Was god pissed at them because they were gonna do straight stuff?
Seriously, anyone who finds this wingnut even remotely Christ-like needs to have their faith examined.

Mama Grizzly Bore is talking again about her gaffe over the summer when she Tweeted the here-to0-fore non-existent word “refudiate.” On her “reality” show, AKA paid political program, she  maintained that it was a typo, that her hand slipped off the ‘p’in repudiate and landed on the ‘f’ key.
Sound logic except for the notion that the ‘p’ nowhere near the ‘f’ key unless you have thumbs the size of a loaf of bread, or you’re just a dumbass.
I think MGB falls into the later, since before the ‘refudiated’ Tweet, she actually used the word ‘refudiate’ on Faux News.
Stupid is as stupid does.

I saw a bit of The Kennedy Center Honors the other night. Paul McCartney was honored, along with Bill T Jones, Merle Haggard, Jerry Herman and, well, Big Fat Headed Oprah.
All the tributes were fun and joyous. The McCartney one was filled with old Beatles tunes, and the Jerry Herman salute was all Broadway all the time, and featured my Boyfriend-In-My-Head, Matt Bomer. The Bill T Jones tribute was a spectacular salute to dance and choreography and triumph of will. Merle Haggard, well, I am not much of a fan, but a little Sheryl Crow with Willie nelson was a welcome treat.
The there was O.
Sitting up in the balcony like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon. Bloated and egotistical, and responding to the tribute like it was expected, and deserved, and not an honor.
The sheer ego of that woman is obnoxious. But, she did trot out her beard, Steadman, while her husband Gayle was seated down on the main floor with the common folk.

Lots of ignorant people, and by ignorant people, I mean the New York Post, commenting on Elton John and his partner, David Furnish, becoming parents on Christmas Day. The Post actually titled their story, “Elton & Wife Proud Dads.”
And then Andrew Pierce, some wingnut columnist, decided to take Elton John  to task for having the child, via surrogate, because he knows that Elton only wants the child as an accessory, and only wants the child for show. He even went so far as to mock the child’s name: Zachary Jackson Levon Furnish-John.
Hey people? Maybe Elton and David wanted to be parents, and that’s all.


Filed under Bob, David Furnish, Elton John, Mama Grizzly Bore, Oprah Winfrey, Pat Robertson, Sick, Uncategorized

>Slowly, But Surely…….


Well, I have both eyes almost fully open today, which feels monumental, after being one-eyed since last week, and half-eyed for a few days. Typing is easier, but still not quite easy, so blogging will be sporadic I imagine.

Here’s the deal:
It started with a headache that felt like sinus pain. 

Carlos, Do you want to see the doctor?
Me: No.

Then as the headache began to go away–and I pay attention to theses things because I rarely get headaches, I usually, give them–I noticed a red splotch on my forehead and down the bridge of my nose that hurt. 

Carlos: Do you want to see the doctor?
Me: No!

I thought, Hmmm, sinus infection? I took Tylenol; didn’t help. Sinus meds? No good. But then it looked like it was going away and so I relaxed a litter. Then, on Friday morning I woke up, and my right eye was swollen almost shut and the rash seemed to have spread across my eyebrow and right side of my forehead.

Carlo: What?
Me: I want to see the doctor.

So, off we went, and the doctor said it seemed like Adult Impetigo, which is a form of staph, but relatively minor and treatable. Prescriptions were given for antibiotics and lotions for rashes, and home I went.  On Saturday, however, the rash was worse, spreading all over the right side of my forehead, and around my right eye. To top it off, now the left eye was swelling. Carlos and I monitored it–it had been less than twenty-four hours since I began the meds–and I washed it and lotioned it, and medicated it, and rested, to no avail. Luckily, I think for us, because of what we’d soon learn, I had been sleeping on the couch for a couple of nights because I was constantly getting up and didn’t want to bother Carlos; that was good.

On Monday morning my blood work came back and it was discovered to be shingles. This is a form of Herpes, a form of Chickenpox, and really quite awful. The skin blisters and hurts and feels likes it burning and there is a great deal of pain. Now, I am a drama queen, no denying, but this pain was unreal, because it was constant. I was snapping at Carlos because he would do the most horrendous things like saying, How do you feel? and Can I get you something?

The bastard!

But, without knowing it was Shingles, my sleeping on the couch was a good thing, because Shingles is quite contagious, especially for someone like Carlos who’s never had Chickenpox. So, I moved into the guest room and guest bathroom, and we are keeping ourselves as distant as possible. Carlos new name is Clorox because everything I touch he bleaches within seconds of me leaving.

Think I’m kidding? Tuxedo is now completely whitye.

No lie. Okay, so, as you can see, my sense of humor, or sense of the absurd has returned.

The new meds, an antiviral and Prednisone, have helped endlessly. The swelling is going down, the rash has stopped spreading–though oddly enough it only spread onto the right side of my forehead, eye and a little into my scalp.

The remnants, though, are these awful black scabs, but I keep them clean and dry, and use fresh sheets and towels every single day, as well as completely washing any clothing, day-to-day.

I am happy to say I am on the mend. I feel ten-times better than I’ve felt in days, though I am not quite 100% yet. It may take another week or so for the rash and blistering to be gone, and then, from what I’ve read, and been told by Doctor Carlos, Shingles affects your nerves so there will be some flashes of nerve pain for a while.

That’s the bad news. the good news is that, in almost all cases, once you have Shingles, you don’t get it again. Which thrills me no end, because I.Don’t.Like.This. 

I hate the pain.
I hate the, no matter how lovely it might sound, “honey-colored” pus.
I hate the scabs. The blisters. The puffiness. The pain.
Did I mention the pain?

And, while I am good at it, I also hate feeling sorry for myself. In fact, in talking with my Dad last night, feeling a wee bit better, I said something or other about how it could have been worse, and then he agreed, reminding me–because we all need to be reminded, especially this time of year–how badly other people have it.

And that helped.

To think, that if this is my big worry….fucking Shingles….when I have access to medical care and people who love me, and a partner who loves me and cares for me, doesn’t kick my ass out when I start bitching about being asked if I’m okay, well, if that’s my biggest complaint, then I should just shut up and sing.

Or, shut up and let Leann Rimes sing.

Nice segue, huh?

I saw this at Towleroad, and I’m sure it’s been everywhere, but it’s Leann Rimes singing “The Rose” with the Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles at their holiday concert. She dedicated the song to those wonderful beautiful, young LGBTQ men and women we’ve lost through bullying and suicide. See, I thought I had it bad, but I have someone there for me. I have a helluva a lot of someones there for me.

I don’t need to ask for help. It’s there before I form the words.
I don’t need to ask for acceptance. It was given all along.
I don’t need to ask for love. I’ve always had it.

So, enough feeling sorry for myself.
I’ll shut up, and let Leann sing:


Filed under Bob, Carlos, Leann Rimes, Music, Sick, Uncategorized, YouTube



I’ll keep this short and sweet because, between the swelling and the itch and the burning and the pus, well, short and sweet is all I can manage.
Still sick.
Getting better, though.


Filed under Bob, Shingles, Sick, Smallville, Uncategorized

>Update On Sicky McSickelstein


It’s not good.
It’s not bad.
But it hurts like a mothereffer!
It all started last Sunday. i was just getting over a cold and had what i thought was a sinus headache; I was still a bit congested and all. But that sinus headache lasted a couple of days and i began to remember what happened to Sharon Stone a few years back when she had a dull headache that lasted for days and she almost died.
i tend to overdramatize, in case you didn’t already know that.
But by Tuesday the headache seemed to be abating, only now there was a small red patch smack dab in the middle of my forehead. By Wednesday, there were more red spots, and they looked like they were blistering. I was applying ointments and washing the area quite regularly, and Thursday morning came and I felt somewhat better, though i was still splotchy and blistery and now oozing–sorry about this, but the devil’s in the details–some honey colored pus from my head.
So, I told myself if it wasn’t better by Friday, I’d see a doctor. And, of course you know it wasn’t. Friday morning I was still splotchy and blistering and oozing and now my right eye was swollen shut. So, Carlos carted me off to the doctor.
I apparently have either shingles, or adult impetigo; we’ll know more when the bloodwork comes backs. I’m kind of leaning toward shingles, because shingles hurt like the aforementioned mothereffer; skin, scalp, hair, it all hurts. and the eye is still swollen.
So, with the pain, and the blistering oozing sores, and the whole one-eye thing, blogging will be taking a severe downturn until I know what this is, or my right eye suddenly decides to rejoin the left and do what it’s supposed to do.
Swollen, splotchy, blistery, and ozzing with pain from Smallville.
Peace, y’all.


Filed under Bob, Carlos, Sick, Smallville

>I Am Off….


….to the emergency room for a look-see at my mystery ailment.
Oh, not in an ambulance, but in Carlos’ car. But, you know, being a big old queen, I does like to over-dramatize things!
Oy! Merry Christmas to me.
But I do have an “I Didn’t Say It….” planned. so there is that.
Hopefully, I’ll be back later.


Filed under Bob, Carlos, Hospital, Sick

>Take Me To The Bed


Well, I fought hard, and have apparently lost.
I have had a bad, nasty, vicious, sinus headache-infection-whatever, and now it has bested me.
I will be taking to my bed for the remainder of the day, sleeping and sleeping and sleeping.
Though, not too much sleeping I hope. Since I haven’t been feeling well Tuxedo has never left my side….sitting in my lap….following me throughout the house…..sitting on the desk as I type this…..and sleeping with me, or, at times, on me.
I’m hoping he hasn’t become one of those Death Cats, you know, that signal who’s next to die.
Okay….that last part was a joke. I think.
Take care, y’all.
I’ll be right back.


Filed under Bob, Sick, Smallville, Tuxedo