#42 The cold sore woman

If ya ever feeling a little bit too happy just google How long do people with stage four bowel cancer live and it should have resolve that over happy feeling for you.

There are of course fantastic outcomes and happy endings that even trump those of the back alley massage parlour, but ordinarily, the survival rate ain’t that of a paper cut and nor is it the life expectancy of a tortoise.

On a kinda positive note though, upon being diagnosed with bowel cancer the life expectancy is usually substantially longer than that of person involved in a fatal crash, following actual impact.

I imagine some of you reading this are like what the fuck man, but it is what it is and that’s the reality we live with. Plus there is always faith and hope and love and laughter and of course miracles… and beer and mean as feeds.

I reckon I’m ticking at least a couple of those traits and what I don’t quite achieve my first wife covers off in boundless supply.

I’ve found that sometimes when dealing with this cunt of a disease there are moments when life is all fine and dandy and then there are those other moments when you come home from work feeling happy but drained and end up with seeping eyes.

Enough of this sad shit reading though and back to something I’m much better at, taking the piss.

With the first wife’s brain being a little bit fucked up with her getting dizzy and shit we thought, hey lets go spend a chunk of money by seeing a neurologist sheila… so yeah, we did that.

She performed some funky moves but not like 1970s disco moves. Nah these were more like a cheating Springbok tactics against All Blacks in the dark hidden areas of a ruck, but just without the kicking and eye gouging aspects.

The neurologist sheila works out of the same flash high end rooms as our oncologist. You know the one that I’m not allowed to call a gnome, even though he looks like one but it did lead to our quote of the day though.

Oncologist that I’m not allowed to call a gnome, even though he looks like one: I see you’ve seen the neurologist?

Me: Fuck man, your office is flash as. You must be real rich cunt. I thought I was in a resort it was so flash.

My first wife carried around a cold sore for a week or so and when she gets cold sores, fuck does she get cold sores! Not sure how, but on her they even grow bigger than her whole head. Ok, maybe I am taking the piss a little but she does laugh like fuck when I do this little impersonation of her cold sore scab flapping in the wind. She even said she could be one of those squid faced pirates in Pirates of the Caribbean.

Anyway the cold sore woman and I were walking hand in hand and she asked me if I’m embarrassed to be seen with her like this. Fuck man, I actually thought she was talking about her cancer, wearing a beanie and hobbling around like a sore footed penguin on hot coals but apparently she was talking about her massive deformed growth of a cold sore.

Me: Oh that? Your cold sore? Nah man, I’m all good. Fuck, I invented the cold sore (well my ol’ lady did when she used to use the dirty soggy germ infected dishcloth to clean our faces when we were too young to fight back).

A few little every day life updates to show our life is still somewhat normal…

The first wife and I helped Kodi move home. His wings continue to grow with him now living in his second flat. He might have the freedom he doesn’t get at home but he doesn’t get the mean as feeds he gets at home… or the cuddles from his Mama.

Had a mate bring three good cunts around to help extend our deck into a decent sized balcony. All for a carton of piss and a decent feed on my smoker. Jakesy and his chippie mates didn’t quite get the job finished but their efforts were massively appreciated. Every little thing that makes my first wife happy is a beautiful thing.

We attended a formal mass for Dilan becoming a school prefect at his school, Iona. Such a proud moment and worth it if only for the smiles it brought to my fist wife’s face.

He’s still looking for a 4×4 so if anyone has one for sale or knows of one can you give us a heads up please.

Headed to Straddie a couple weeks back for a bit of a catch up to bag out a piece of shit cunt. Always a good time on Minjerribah and nice to reconnect with a few peeps.

Also, being old cunts now a lot or our celebratory events are due to funerals, 50ths, 60ths, divorces etc rather than 21sts or weddings. Last week however, we attended a ripper of an event where a couple of sheilas hooked up after walking down an aisle.

Marjana absolutely loved this day because she got to catch up with a bunch of workmates and also witnessed two of ’em get married. I loved it too in case ya wondering. Was heaps of free piss. Here’s to you two sheilas who obviously have good taste because they’re the ones who gave my first wife this cool blanket as a gift.

The first wife hates the cold but secretly uses it as an excuse to cuddle up to me via a blanket

We continue our lives with fortnightly Chernobyl day visits including yesterday. Last week’s session though was postponed because we both had colds. Well the first wife had a cold. I had man-flu and that shit fucks up humans with cocks and balls big time.

These last few weeks have also seen a drastic change in the ol’ girls ability to walk without pain. We don’t exactly know why but it seems like all of a sudden and very much out of the blue Marjana’s body has taken a little bit of a beating of late because when she’s cold she seriously walks like a little old lady full of arthritis. We hope this is only a temporary thing because it’s a bit of a cunt, and not of the good cunt variety. Watch this spot I guess.

Just because my old Silverdale rugby mates were on the piss together

#16 Gifts for my first wife

It’s true, my first wife swims like a rock. A very large heavy rock to be precise.

With that being the case, back in 2017 I figured a good birthday present would be a scuba diving course because it’s an underwater thing and anything that sinks like a large heavy rock would be a natural at the bottom of the ocean.

I did make a public disclaimer at the start though that if she did drown (which she obviously didn’t) that I wasn’t the murdering type.

Might be hard to believe but she didn’t need the help of a weighted belt to make her sink

Bella in her pre grey hair days

Sharing the same birthday as myself (although not even close to the same year) is our dog.

Introducing Bella.

Born and bred on Straddie, as in Minjerribah aka North Stradbroke Island, she is indeed a real mongrel as are we. So she fits in perfectly.

She’s now nine and has the most beautiful soul and is very much a welcome and loved member of our family.

She may be number six in order of arriving into our family but if we go by the amount of how much she is loved, her rating would vastly improve.

Pudding our cat didn’t have a say but the four humans in our family all had a name for Bella. All names were put into a hat. Dilan wanted ‘Pingu’, can’t remember Kodi’s choice, I wanted ‘Dust’ and my first wife’s choice was drawn to take the naming prize. I believe ‘Bella’ is one of, if not the most common dog names in the world.