Every summer is the Summer of Something. 1998 was the Summer of Asteroid Movies. The year before that was the Summer of George. Last summer was the Summer of Thinking 2016 is as Bad as It Will Ever Get … which means we had to find a new theme for this year instead of reheating last summer’s leftovers. So, we’re now at least waist-deep into the Summer of Mystery Amputations.
Folks, you may have heard a couple weeks ago about how former MLB juicer Jose Canseco accidentally shot his left middle finger while cleaning his gun. (Which is why you should never, ever, keep Jose Canseco in your home.) It was hanging on by a thread, and surgeons reattached it, but things didn’t go so well.
Canseco said that the finger kind of smelled bad, but he ignored it — until it fell off during a poker tournament. That means that people voluntarily sat at a table with Canseco and his rotting finger, and there’s no way anyone could raise him when he threw it into the pot.
Apparently, doctors have reattached it again, so this is going to work out well.
The PTC had no problem with the rest of Madonna’s show where she outgayed the gayest gay that ever gayed. Clearly, this is both a victory for and challenge to the gay community if they can’t offend America’s scrappiest PTA anymore.
I’ve just had a birthday, and I’m worried about getting older. More specifically, about prostate exams. Do doctors really have to stick a finger up my butt? What if I enjoy it? Or are there any other methods?
You know, SA, you couldn’t time this question any better. In fact, your timing is so extraordinary that a casual reader might think I just scanned the news for a medical headline, found a silly one and then wrote a fake letter from someone embarrassed about prostate exams. It’s a funny idea, but completely untrue.