jackassworld

I first discovered a Russian doctor in my neighborhood because I needed help. All these crazy art people were fucking with me and there was no way out but become my own art scene, but first I needed medical help: coming to California had boosted my medical problems and I was now suffering. I had in-grown toenails, a distended prostate, and no agent.

It was crazy, everyone in the office was Russian and they all spoke in this crazy language, very international, LA muy bueno. My doctor helped with all my medical needs and a podiatrist dude came in one day and when he removed my fucked toenail I yelled “fuck” out loud in the office.

Another time there was all these art people that got all around me saying all this shit about stupid art at an art show and the next day I had an abscess on my butt. It was the most pain I had ever been through, but I had a doctor so I went to see her and she sent me to another doctor and with the help of a cute assistant, they drained the thing and then I went out and got laid.

Today I am fine. I went to my doctor yesterday and she said, “You haven’t had a blood test since 2005,” and I was like, “I don’t want to have anything to do with that shit.” I still have a tiny red mark on my arm where they made me do it. I’m not scared of those tests really, seriously, I am no pussy, but I think they’re disgusting. At any rate she gave me some water and I walked out with a cotton swab on my arm.

I will continue to use my doctor to get free condoms for having sex with girls and shit. And the lady told me about lubricant—it makes sex more fun, glides easier! The art people are long gone now and I am my own art scene cuz my doctor told me all those drug addicts are stupid and that I should get a place right by the doctor office so I can suffer, in peace.