The doctor starts to give me a little lecture about the importance of performing monthly checks on myself, but it's hard to keep a straight face because my DJ is wearing a surgical mask he found in one of the doctor's drawers and pretending to scratch his records with a tongue depressor. I'm really relieved about not having testicular cancer, and I have to restrain myself from singing along with the words to the sample my DJ drops every twelve measures or so. The doctor gives me a little plastic card to hang in my shower that shows me how to check for lumps. Motherfucker say what, I mouth to the beat. My DJ encourages the doctor to throw his hands up, but the doctor declines.
From "My DJ" by Brian Bieber.
Dave posted this entry at 01:10 AM on January 16, 2004. This entry was posted in the category Humour .
Des:
Nice blog, thus far, I would post comments on everyones blogs given half the chance, which I was. But the bottom line is , some people want me to make a user account just so I can comment on them. That is ridiculous.