Fight The Power

The New Fashion Rage in Mug Shots

Surprisingly, I got a bit of good news today from my doctor – no more crutches. She told me to wear the AirCast boot for another three weeks, but that beats any alternative.

“Just don’t do anything stupid like go the gym and run on it,” she told me.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” I replied.

I was a little worried after she called on Monday to tell me the radiologist at Urgent Care diagnosed me with a broken fibula in addition to a fractured ankle. Idiot. But after she reviewed the X-rays Doug Wetback brought her, it’s all good.

Doug wanted to meet her after seeing her picture in a brochure I brought home. Actually, he begged me to break his ankle.

Now, I admit that she’s an attractive woman. I mean, if Playboy ever did a spread on female doctors, she would certainly be considered for the centerfold.

Drink, I said spread.

After my girlfriend saw her picture, she said, “I can see why you don’t want your foot to get better” (It sounds funnier if you say it in a sarcastic chick voice).

Unfortunately for Doug, she wasn’t in the office when he dropped off the X-rays. But the lady at the front desk asked for my legal name, date of birth and contact telephone number. He knew all three by memory. WTF?

President Obama has decided to bring the U.S. Census Bureau under White House jurisdiction. I didn’t like the sound of that, so I did some research on the topic. The estimated cost for the next census is $10 Billion. But I can do it for a cool mill. Here’s how:

Number of SSNs minus number of deaths plus number of births

Problem solved… And I’m rich, bitch.

I’m ready and hyped plus I’m amped. Most of my heroes don’t appear on no stamps.