I went to my doctor last week for something minor. But he fooled me and gave me a physical. Not to name names but I will say that Dr. Charles "Chuck" Johnson of Commonwealth Physicians sure is a sneaky guy.
Anyway, he says I'm healthy. Real healthy. In fact, when I got all my results back and saw them in print, I was so delighted I went out and had a Big Mac. And fries. Supersized. And then I had a double fudge sundae. I mean, you gotta celebrate good health, right?!
Being healthy means the odds are good I'm gonna be around for a while. The good news? My Marilyn is happy. The bad news? My kids have to wait a while before they buy the beach house with the money from the will. Did I say "beach house?" I meant "beach ball." I mean, if I'm going to live longer I've got more time to spend their inheritance.
Which brings me to my point: CONGRESS!!! WALL STREET!!! DON'T MESS WITH MY FUTURE!!!!! Or I'll come over there and ... and ... and whine. Real loud.
In the meantime, I'm cutting back on salt. Just in case they get it right.
... just thinkling
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