And How was Your Day, Katie?
On Friday, I was so fuckin’ angry I wished I had a penis. No, I don’t have penis envy. Friday, though. Friday, I wanted a penis, so I could say “SUCK MY MOTHAH’ FUCKIN’ DICK”, to everyone. I wanted to march myself out into the world in groin clutching, crotch enhancing man jeans, grabbing my dick at the speed of light, screaming at the top of my lungs. That’s how I angry I was. If I could’ve thrown every piece of glass and ceramic I own against the wall so hard that I would’ve felt the reverberating debris inside my womb, I would’ve. I wanted to watch it all crumble into a gazillion little pieces onto the floor. I don’t think I could’ve screamed as loudly as I wanted to, but I sure as shit wanted to try. The health care system in this country isn’t fucked up, it’s a diseaseapalooza. Doctor’s secretary, we’ll call her Spawn of Satan says, “Take this new medication. If you have side-effects and feel sick, call.” Katie asks, “What side-effects should I look for? Can you describe what feel...