Thanksgiving Chicken

This will basically comprise 2 posts in one. Don't you feel lucky?

I do. Truly blessed, for I see the light at the end of the tunnel and for once it's not a 99 car freight train coming at me. This afternoon I had the first solid meal I've had in a six days. So, what did I have? Steak and Shake with an egg nog milkshake. I figured all the fat would help it slide down my throat, as well as provide my bod with some much-needed calories. None of my clothes fit anymore, and for the first time in many years, I feel skinny.

So, this flu-thing has kicked my ass. I started illin' on Monday night, and woke up with the first of a chain of fever spikes and drenching sweats. Needless to say, I've sucked down a lot of ibuprofen/acetaminophen and whatever else I have been able to swallow.

I'm feeling much better now, though. And before I continue more, for thems of you who knew my home phone number--it has changed. I'm now a happy VoIP customer. The evil empire that formerly served my telecom needs is a glimmer in my rear-view mirror now, the final argument with them being "Can I have my telephone number?" They wanted to charge me, and came up with various stories for why they needed to do so. I asked why I was charged a "number portability" fee each month. I was referred to another number to call to inquire about that. To cut the story short, I told them to bite my left ass cheek, and they could keep their precious number. So, if you want some digits, show me some love.

backing up now to Thanksgiving. I was sitting on my robust butt, and not particularly wanting to do anything. I had a little community service/volunteer project with a friend in the afternoon, and I just wanted to cruise until then. I phoned the kind friend who had offered her family in a sympathy gesture (I thought it was quite kind though I did feel like a "token.") While on the phone, she asked about different troubles she was having in the kitchen, told me that though she had set out alcohol, nobody was drinking, and that besides, she had someone she wanted me to meet.

Swell.

I prettied myself in my little doctor-y scrubs and set off to Carmel to get the party started. I smiled, laughed, and made everyone French 75's, which greased the affair quite a bit. The person I was supposed to meet was a child attending school who had just come out to his parents. Like all good academians, he was a tad nebbish, a bit spotty (19, after all) and never left my side. I guess I was supposed to be the mentor or something. Whatever. I had blood pressures to check and flu vaccine to administer later. We ate a passable meal, and I came back downtown to discharge my volunteerism. Yay me!

I've decided that should I find myself in Naptown next year, I'll sponsor my own "rogue fags alone in the city" dinner, in the way we did in Hawaii. I enjoy the camaraderie, and the ability to share with friends and drink to excess. Then again, that's a full year away. Who knows what a year may bring?

Now, moving from reasons to stay in Indiana to reasons to get the hell outta Dodge......

The list keeps growing daily, the longer I stay here. They just didn't know when to stop when they started jotting down laws in this silly place. The blue law that irritates me the most is the "Dry on Sundays/Holidays" law. That one slays me for so many reasons, mostly because I tend to forget to buy beer on Saturday, and I want one on Sunday. Yeah, yeah I know that we're all supposed to be good law abiding Christians, just like the forefathers instructed us to. I can't complain too loudly, because the fine individuals that penned that law also included a clause that allows alcohol to be served to patrons "either sitting or standing" I think that's very liberal!

My legal forays began with a conversation that we had about age of sexual consent. There's a fascinating site that digs deep into that oft-asked question, complete with excerpts from the individual countries/states asserting those numbers. We shuffled about that age being 16 in Indiana or 18. I was right, of course because the bill that was introduced to bring the legal age up to 18 didn't actually make it to being a law. I found that odd, given the conservative demeanor of this state. One would think they would do anything to protect the young firm parts of their own daughters. Guess 48 months doesn't make a difference after all.

Of course the most HEINOUS of the code violations is the infamous Indiana Boner Law. Section 1D states:

As used in this section, "nudity" means the showing of the human male or female genitals, pubic area, or buttocks with less than a fully opaque covering, the showing of the female breast with less than a fully opaque covering of any part of the nipple, or the showing of covered male genitals in a discernibly turgid state.

Oh, yeah....love me some discernibly turgid genetalia! What it means, of course is you have committed an act of gross sexual indecency equal to whipping your schlong out and slapping it on the hood of a police cruiser if your pee-pee is visibly even the slightest bit happy in it's cozy basket of underoos and Levis.

Heh. Think about that when you go to bed tonight.