I’m Not Dead Yet.

So you remember that alien eyeball tumor I found in my belly about a month ago? Remember how I had it out, and was waiting for the biopsy results from “the lab”? Remember how I then stopped writing this blog for over a month? Think there was any connection?

Well, you’d be correct.

Turns out, the biopsy came back bad. Real bad. Look up long words on the Internet bad “AROOOOGAH! MORTALITY ALERT!” bad. For some odd reason this temporarily froze up my humorous writing juices while I tried to figure out if I was going to die in the next six months. Odd that.

This period lasted a couple of weeks while I waited for yet another test, a full-body CT scan, and a meeting with a cancer surgeon. I spent much of the time worrying about insurance and wills and other non-funny crapola instead of more important things like chickens. Fortunately my job was real busy and I got a lot of work done, which helped me Not Go Crazy on a daily basis.

Time passed. Then some more time. I had my test, and then waited for the result. That was a hard weekend.


This is not my cancer surgeon. This is Amber Tamblyn, a hot actress who is playing a doctor on "House" this season. However, my doctor doesn't actually appear to be much older than Amber. Should this concern me?

To make a long story short, my CT scans were clean. Everywhere. In other words, the loveable little long-worded bastard hadn’t metastasized and invaded the rest of my body, but had mostly been cut out in the first surgery. So I get to live.

That was a good moment. Me and my wife, who has been like a Jedi Master June Cleaver Warrior Princess throughout this Deeply Unfunny Period, ate stinky cheese and sniffled and tried to remember the last time either of us got a good night’s sleep.

Now before you alert Congress and they declare a national day of celebration, I should warn you that I’m not Out Of The Woods Yet. I have to get a largish chunk of my belly-fat scooped out to get Huge Margins, then what’s left gets belted with Gamma Rays to Kill the Shit Out of It. Then I get more CT scans every 6 months to see if It Has Returned. (Which this particular cancer has been known to do.) But we’re well ahead of it now, and my odds are only slightly worse than those of my Faithful Readers who still smoke like fish you idiots.

But what the hell. I’m not dead yet and my sense of humor has mostly sorta returned. And if I weren’t so angry with President Obama and the Democrats In Power Who Have Blown Their Opportunity And Are About To Get Their Asses Kicked I’d say some hilarious things about this upcoming election. But for now I’m just gonna eat more stinky cheese with my wife and enjoy not being dead. And I recommend that you do the same.*

All the best,


*Seriously. I’ll give you my wife’s number. She’s a total babe and she LOVES stinky cheese!


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4 Responses to “I’m Not Dead Yet.”

  1. Scott G Says:

    Well jeez, Paul… when we told you to go live life on the edge, it was more about base jumping, or sinking pirate ships off Somalia, or sane shit like that. Not this really crazy stuff.

    Make sure you get Out Of The Woods before dark. Grandmother may get worried.

    Amber Tamlyn’s a hottie. You sure you can’t get her as your cancer surgeon?

  2. Scott G Says:

    That’s a pretty good section. Could have driven up the suspense value a bit by saving it for the last line. Or at least put “spoiler alert!” at the front. Oh well…

    Glad to hear it, though. 🙂

  3. Susan Says:

    I’m so very glad you’re not dead . . . and don’t plan on being so any time soon.

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