Category: Dr. Freckles

The doctor said my herpes cleared up …

The doctor said my herpes and my syphilis and my weird Vietnamese butt crabs are all doing great …

But there were deeper problems, and a strange healthcare adventure was afoot …

My doctor recommended I drink DRANO and huff paint fumes and spend time at the dry cleaners. I shoved an ostrich egg up my butt and then performed a complete enema using isopropyl alcohol and red pepper and A1 sauce. I spent several hours cutting away the miscus from my tredic-zone, and then draining my foob-orbs into the bottles my doctor gave me. And then they did day surgery on my anus, and now my herpes is fine.

The doctor said I should eat more vegetables, clean water and some kind of free-range beef they have in Wyoming. He said I needed to buy fluoride tablets because my levels were low, and he recommended a draining of my clevic zone and some minor brain surgery. He has this new drug, HODOROL, and it helps you when you get sad about stuff. You drop an H and you can do ANYTHING … nobody stops you. You won’t ask questions about the dead hookers behind the bar, you’ll just DRINK YOUR DRINK and go have a good old time. And that way my cholesterol goes down …

My doctor, Dr. Grunkis, has recommended total refurbishing. He runs a clinic in Little Saigon, Seattle, around midnight on Thursdays. He does his work in a nasty old alley where the rats stand watch between eating Japanese EMO twinks. He has modeling knives and vodka and fishing line and a needle, and he gets it done. He knocks you out with a lead pipe, and you just sit there, concussed, as he cuts into your belly and pulls out all your insides and replaces it with metal shavings and sawdust and broken glass and sand.

I’m trying to get my reebus-zone irrigated. My doctor, Dr. Mavis, refuses to jam rebar “up there” – but you have to … if you want to get well. I keep trying to gauge out that monstrous thing, stuck up there, and cutting into me, but nothing works. Dr. Mavis tried a hamster, and that hamster is stuck up there now, biting. Next? – some weird drill, and it got me bloody and sore and messed up, but that won’t work. We’ll try X-RAY beam surgery, shooting me up with 13,000 rads of power, growing my testicles with tumors, and that way I’m ready for my big date with Sheila.

There’s this shes-striss nurse that works for Dr. Grunkis – Hanala. Hanala does most of the leech and bat work, she manages the supplies of pulverized concrete and dirty pennies. She has really bad STDs, all of them, and sometimes her genital crabs will crawl from her boovula into your open wound as surgery is ongoing, and those damn things lay eggs. She does a lot of meth and crack and coke and this helps her as a nurse. She helps the doctor dispose of old cat innards and the potato rinds.

I take 3 pills for the pain in my solstice zone. I take 5 pills for my junk and my junk issues. I take 2 pills for my heart muscle deterioration. I go into a hyperbaric chamber and lose myself in troubled bliss. I have this Korean massage artist that pulls on my man tube and screams “YEE HAW”, she kicks me in the stomach, she pees on my head, she dumps cigarette butts on me, I pay her $300 for the experience. I take a substance called NINGO-WHITE that cleans out your Ulick-barrens and leave you smelling fresh and clean. My doctor, Dr. Grunkis, orders me to drink 6 fifths of whiskey every 24 hours … if I stop, I die … that’s the shit he tells me, and I thank GOD for it.

Everyone over 50 should get an anal probe …

Everyone over 50 should have a telescopic device inserted into their butthole and allow some greasy doctor to traverse their inner blincktus zone …

Dr. Grunkis has a mechanic’s helper adjustable armature camera that he wraps in plastic wrap and then covers in sexual lubricant. He bought this cheap ass software to interface with it, code written in Russia. As he inserts his street-style colonoscopy device, the entire region, vista, reveals itself … so darkly whimsical to see what’s going on in my butt hole.

We saw great valleys flowing with brown rivers of glory …

We saw herds of gutt buffalo and shit-gators and tummy-roaches, all living in peace in this weird land …

We journeyed deep into those dark corners of my digestive tract, and felt the deep shame of seeing stuck pieces of meat or metal shavings or tumors …

The tumors were easy for Dr. Grunkis, he just used a fisherman’s pinch tool and would just snip off the tumor, cauterizing the wound with a hand-held cooking/brazing torch with an extender. He used these carpenter’s vices to hold open or SPREAD my butthole, and then he just went way up in there with that damn torch …

After several hours of removing dark, diseased, flesh from my butt crack, Dr. Grunkis sewed up some leakage shafts and sealed my butthole up with gorilla glue …

He sent me home, it was a long walk back to Utah …

I spent many hours contemplating my health and wondering about what problems lurked inside …

And I was reminded, in the scream of some far off she-wolf …

“Your body is NOT a temple, your body is a junkyard.” – Dr. Freckles

[curated: 3/27/2023]