From: Jennifer
FWD'd message to: E

Wanting to share b/c I have such a great relationship with Baz.

Just read us below. We're fucking hilarious. I love us. I will lick us. And then I will lick your running shoes that cross the finish line of the Turkey Trot. Because I am just that classy.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Jennifer
Date: Nov 26, 2008 8:34 PM

Couple things after thinking some ...

First, you don't have cancer. You have an unnecessary organ that simply must go. The purpose? So you can fuck that surgeon. I have an inkling that might happen. And you know, then you can say you fucked a surgeon. A blonde one at that. That's not your everyday accomplishment.

Second, how could you give up your dog tags to some hooker? Seriously? They don't quite compare to a toothbrush or t-shirt. If it was your ex-fiance, I could overlook it, forgive it even. But to some random chick? I, for one, would have taken much better care of them. So now, it's me and Joseph Atherley. I will care for his just as much. I might even lick them now and then.

We should so be a sitcom.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: B
Date: Nov 26, 2008 12:49 PM

A chick asked to borrow my dogtags once when I first got back, and she never returned them.

Trophies.

My gall-bladder has a growth in it, and they want to make sure it's not cancerous (not likely considering the size of the growth and my age). Being safe.

And TOUGH!

... cause I'm tough enough. Cause I'm tough e-nuff!

Yeow!

- Baz

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Jennifer
Date: Nov 25, 2008 3:18 PM

How did I not know you supported Capitalism? How did I not know you were in the Marines? Do you have dog tags? Did you know I just bought dog tags off eBay? Seriously. They belonged to Joseph Wardman Atherley, US Navy. I don't know him or anything. WWII. I just wanted some. He's the lucky guy.

And you never told me *why* they want your gall bladder.

Whoa-o here she comes ...

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: B
Date: Nov 25, 2008 2:39 PM

I haven't gotten an appt yet, but in a month or so.

I don't have health insurance (are you high?), but since the Marines screwed up my hip, I get free medical from the VA. Turning out to be a very nice perk, eh?

Put yourself through college and chase your dream = "Die sick, artist boy.

Volunteer to kill humans in the name of Capitalism = 'We'll take care of you forever, patriot.'"

I LOVE cookies.

... and that pic.

... man-eata.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Jennifer
Date: Nov 25, 2008 1:35 PM


That's a fucking awesome story. Seriously. I want to post it. YOU post it. But I know you won't.

When's your shit coming out? How long will you be in the hospital? Your insurance covering it? Can I bake you cookies?

Reason number 443 for why I love this guy. He wrote:


My plan, as I formed it while talking to the hot blonde surgeon, was to impress her. Her plan was to take out my shit.


She said they need to take out the gall bladder.


I said, "Have it."


She said my tummy scar would make it difficult for them to take it out the modern, easier way.


I said, "So...".


She said they had to go in by my ribs and dig around and cut it out.


I said, "Cool."


She said it's more painful.


I said, "Just during recovery, though. Right?"


She said yeah.


I said, "No problem."


She said it'd leave a much bigger scar.


I said, "I LOVE scars."


And judging by that fuck-me look that passed ever so briefly though her eyes when I said it, we both won.