Mammogram and Man Rant

Kaiser sent me a message...time for my mammogram screening.  Men have no idea how good they've got it.  They don't get their equipment wedged between two x-ray plates, squeezed and photographed to find out if they have prostate cancer.

Some women can take this torture fairly easy.  Others of us...those with a little more on top, hate it...and combine that with the twins (my twins) being overly sensitive... Sweet Jesus, medical torture!  Of course, I'd rather that then the alternative, which is to find out too late that there's something wrong, but you'd think with medical science being so advanced, they'd have a better way of screening us...right? NOPE!

Since I'm on a tear regarding men vs women... I'd have to say...having internal sex organs suck! The pap smears, the exams, my legs in the stirrups, and GOD HELP YOU if he accidentally (Yeah, my Gyno is a man) flicks your ovaries... Lord, I know it's not my place to question your logic in the creation of womankind...but couldn't you have come up with something a little more convenient?  Men get to pee standing up!  Women??? We have to squat, leaving us vulnerable and defenseless.  In the wild, we'd have to pee with a posse just to make sure we were safe.  Whatup with that?

Now don't get me wrong...I get that women are softer, usually smell better and can batt their eyes to get what they want out of most men, but really?  I rarely use that tactic, because if I want it bad enough, I'll get it myself.  "You don't have to throw back that pretty pink lemonade shooter and lean a little closer"...yeah, we do know the tricks, but I'd trade that to get rid of the damned OB-GYN visits.  Oh, and by the way Buddy...I wouldn't be caught dead with a freaking pretty pink lemonade shooter!  If I'm shooting anything, it's tequila or the asshole that breaks into my home.
________________________

Today was a bitch at work, but as I forewarned...this entire week is gonna be a bitch! It started off with Vin Diesel (Stair Master). I woke up feeling hung over (and I didn't drink much last night) and my legs felt like lead. I still got on the machine, but I couldn't get past level 2 for the first 20 minutes (I'm usually at level 5 within 8 minutes). I swear I felt like I was sleeping on the damned machine! Then I bumped to level 3 for 20 minutes, and finally started moving. Did level 4 for the last 20 minutes...Yeah, Dizzy was a total candy ass.  I swear, I could've laid down on the bed and fell back to sleep after that workout. WTF???

I get to work and it's go, go, go trying to prepare for this presentation for our Governance Council. I ended up pulling a twelve hour shift, which isn't bad, but when your ass is dragging, it's torture. Yeah, I want some cheese to go with my whine.  I'm just venting peeps. I'm lucky to have the job I do. It's all good.  This Monkey dances tomorrow at 10 a.m. for my old project and I'm putting it to bed. Thursday, this monkey is dancing for GC and pulling together a requirements meeting. Next week it's the awards ceremony and visiting my Nephew on the hill. UGH!

I need "Dial some Hands"...I'd order up the biggest, strongest manly hands to work my body over and beat the shit out of my muscles.  Ok..Dizzy is stopping now because she's swearing too much.  G'nite Peeps!