Dear hippies,

Fuck you and your tofu. You see, I cut my hair last week - it has been past my shoulders for over 10 years. The same week I went to get a physical, as i am constantly convinced i am dying from my horrible lifestyle of enjoying myself. I took the physical, the Dr. said if I don't hear anything then I'm fine. I eat a lot of tofu, I prayed, so i should be ok. Right?

This weekend i received a horrible letter from the Dr. saying that he needed to see me to discuss the results. So I spent the whole weekend assuming I have cancer and preparing my lines. You have to have good lines if you're going to be told you have weeks to live. First I prepared to tell my chick that I needed to spend my last few weeks in a brothel and I hope that she understood that it wasn't me, it was the sickness. Then I thought I could plan a really amazing party for my funeral, and spend all of my life insurance money to book an amazing lineup of bands. I'd probably have to go with Phil Lesh and Friends plus G Love and Special Sauce. They would come out and bring down the house, with me in a casket on the stage and when it got really rocking, people would take me out and I would crowd surf to the back as a corpse. Fantastic.

So I call furiously this morning, they tell me I have to come in person, so I say I can be there in five minutes. It's right next to my Manhattan studio, so I head over, wait for half an hour reading comic books, get taken to the back and sit in a room for a while. The Dr comes in and says they are having trouble getting the results from the lab, so he calls them while I'm in the room.

Hi this is Dr. soandso looking for results......yes verbal please.

Uh huh.

Uh huh. (He scribbles things down)

Uh huh.

. . . . .

He thanks them and hangs up and says, "Well..." then lets it fade off.

My fucking cholesterol is too high. This is just like when I got my AIDS test and they made a big deal about not telling me over the phone and I come in and they act all weird and then finally I get the news. Sorry, you're not dying. Dude, you could have told me over the phone.

But it seems that tofu is farking me up too. Too much protein. Don't eat an egg for breakfast. Don't eat tofu in Indian curry sauce for lunch. Don't drink beer and have a cigar at dinner. Fuck. How miserable. They do it in Europe and they live longer than us, but then again they have national health care. Maybe if we had national health care i could have an omelet and a cigar for breakfast. God that sounds awesome. So go screw hippies, I'm done with tofu.

posted by lazlow at 10:08 PM  on Monday, November 19, 2007