Me, Myself and Irene

Well folks, there have been some fascinating developments in my life the past few days. If you saw the movie Me, Myself and Irene, you may remember the part where his wife left him for the midget, and the color of his sons' skin. Lets just say it was similar to that, sans the children and marriage (thank you baby Jesus, as that might've happened before terribly long, with the aforementioned events unknown to me save for my finding out randomnly via espionage).

Now, I'm in the process of recovery, which might include doing some examinations of new female patients. If you know a girl with loose morals, who would be interested in dating a medical doctor who is held in high regard in his field, please contact me immediately. I will be attempting in good faith to wet my whistle without assistance, but your assistance will be greatly appreciated.

I was thinking how much it is going to suck moving home with my parents, but then I realized that the legendary wedding-crashing guru from Wedding Crashers played by Will Farrell still lived at home, and I'm assuming his character was a lot older than mine, and he had a hot chick. Plus, meatloaf is fucking awesome and his mom was making it for him (she took forever though).

In the coming months, I will be attempting to sculpt my body into the image of a Greek God, and I started the process of that a few months ago. Now, I'm happy to say that I'm less of a quivering mound of love pudding and have done some good work increasing my overall level of jack-sticity. I heard chicks prefer that to a quivering mound of love pudding.

I've been thinking about my past sexual encounters and in a way being single is very exciting. I mean, I've done some crazy shit, mostly during college, med school and during my residency, and I'm kind of excited to experience it again once every couple of months (I'm guessing that will be the frequency). Every once in a while, something so crazy happens that you have to tell all your friends. Like "butt-erfingers" in college, but that is another story for another day.

I promise my loyal readership one thing and one thing only: when I am out on the prowl, I will aim for the stars, but I will NOT hesitate to do what is necessary to get a thorough knob-polishing, because I'm awesome like that. One of my teachers at med school once said "any port in a storm", which didn't make a lot of sense because I'm not an avid boater. Then it dawned on me, the dog was the storm, and industry, now that was a revolution.

I will of course keep you updated,

Sleepless in Garden City