Jay goes to a Doctor!

This was my New Year's resolution from 2003, get a physical. I'm one of the lucky ones who has HIP health insurance, which was banned from NJ about five years ago, roughly the same time I had my last physical. That time it ended poorly, with me ending up getting a colonoscopy. Yes, that's a camera up my ass. I won't boor you with the details, but I was fine. Clean bill of health! Fast forward to present times, figure 10,000 bud lights, 100 gallons of hard liquor, and innumerable Marlboro Lights later. Needless to say, I find the doctor a source of anxiety. "Well Jay, it seems your liver has migrated to your calf in an attempt to save itself. On the plus side, you have the lungs of a 90 year-old coal miner." Putting on a brave face, I made the appointment and actually kept it. This is truly a big deal for me. I don't like to be poked and prodded. I don't even like getting my hair cut, it's just intrusive. Oddly, I have no problem having an elderly Asian woman commit crimes against nature upon me, but that's another issue. So I go for the physical, 55th and 5th Ave, pain in the ass location (thanks HIP). I'm honest with the doctor about my life-style, which I feel is important. Once I revived him and got him up off the floor, he suggests a blood test seems like the way to go. He even ordered a special test to check for alcohol damage. Of course they can't just take blood from me then, I have to go back for that. I plan to do that Friday, expect an emergency call from them late next week sometime, "You're legally dead!" Anyway, I figure I'll need to modify my "life-style," in the near future. Obviously, by "life-style", I mean alcohol/drug abuse. Karen B. was the first person to call me on that. I was saying something about if I changed my job it would effect my "life-style", and she responds, "you mean you're drinking!" Partially true. However, in my own defense, it also involves my working out, grocery shopping, and cooking for Shal. And moving the car, which I fucked up today, but I blame that on Peyton Manning. Oh yeah, I work too, but I try not to take that too seriously. Back to the physical. The doc measured my height at 6'4 1/2" Which I think is off, but whatever. I weighed in at 236 lbs., which gave me a Body Mass Index of 28. AnyBMI over 25 is considered overweight. My doctor was nice enough to acknowledge that a lot of my weight was muscle, this was mostly due to the fact I was striking a Double Overhead Bicep pose followed by the Crab Crunch flex. It was an elegant display, and I could tell he was impressed. Unfortunately, he did point out my belly and man tits. I wouldn't have minded but he started tickling me and slapping my titties around while giggling like Homer Simpson. I found it inappropriate, but it did convince me I could stand to lose a few pounds. With that in mind, and the looming news that I have liver failure, I decided I could combine the two issues: Drink less and lose weight. I came up with the following new rules to try and work on this.
1. No drinking before noon. Seriously, what kind of animal would wake up and have a beer. Or a Screwdriver. Maybe a delicious Bloody Mary. Special coffe? Fuck, I'm struggling with this one already. Plus, it doesn't count if I wake up at noon, I'll have to wait two hours minimum from when I wake up.
2. No hard liquor during the day. Maybe this should just be, "no hard liquor"? No, that's completely unrealistic.
3. Pot is my enemy. Sometimes I really love my enemy.
4. Hard drugs are right out. Loose women too.
5. No more weekday drinking. Except for yesterday and today. Okay, honestly I'm having a beer right now. This is going to be harder than I thought.
Hmmmm, I guess we'll consider these more like guide-lines. Exceptions will obviously have to be made. Rules do not apply on Sundays.
Cheers Motherfuckers!