Larry Thack is getting cataract surgery to more clearly stare at the wall

Everyone loves December and I’m no different. It gives me a chance to look back on another year well-lived.
Compiling all my medical receipts for the year gives me the opportunity to look back fondly on all the procedures I had. Pneumonia, melanoma, crippling sciatica, Viral meningitis – I should be dead! Oh thank the Lord for blessing me so. Strangely, as oft as I was in and out of the clutches of a waiting room I never met my deductible.
I had four haircuts and five funerals – that I bothered to attend. I calculate a consumption of 260 Chicken-fila sauce cups for the purpose of soaking my cuticles. I accidentally ran over one squirrel and deliberately pushed down three children. I read 35 times as many books as President Trump. I successfully cured a cold by huffing a can of Flex Seal.
I didn’t attend church once this year. Sadly, my physical condition precludes me from kneeling. Instead I’ve taken to standing in the rain for an hour. It’s meditative and feels sorta like being in a room full of sniffling, grouchy people.
I figure I consumed approximately 4,672 glasses of Chardonnay, 18 pretentious microbrews, 25 margaritas, and a mere two bottles of scotch. I need to add a little variety here and will consider getting a Juul and a sack of fentanyl.
I had numerous meaningful conversations with dogs and squirrels and none with humans. I went to the tag office five times and was told to go sit at that little table in the corner three times – a public humiliation. I probably asked Siri 1,825 questions of which she answered maybe 638. While I’m on the subject I smashed to bits two Apple remotes. I had precisely 730 nightmares and 48 bowls of soup.
I played golf on a Sunday morning with three white males twice. Both times I hit the exact same 95 shots, yet again lost interest on the 3rd hole, listened to precisely the same 18 jokes, and had 10 conversations identical to the previous round. I then quit golfing for the 30th time.
I’m looking forward to another year of being “blessed” as they say.