Mooner Johnson, MD- Tooter Doctor


So. I’m really busy. My webber and bloggie are in desperate need of an exorcism, I need more sex and the Squirt has a urinary tract infection. My ADHD-addled brain is major league fritzed. I don’t know where to start getting things untangled.

OK, first, I have too much to do with everything above-mentioned plus everything else. The South-by-Southwest Music Festival is in town and I’m too busy to go to any of the festivities. Since my computer problems have resurfaced, my efforts to get my website fixed have ended in a mass ruination of my two trusted computer guys.

My at-the-house hardware/software fixer guy has stopped returning my calls, and my fantastic web design guy has suddenly landed a, “Massive design project that will use all of my time for months. Sorry Dude.” If I didn’t know what they have already been through in attempting to fix my problems I’d call them chickens. So now my solutions are unknown mysteries.

Wait. My problems are unknown mysteries and my solutions yet-to-be-resolves.

The main problem with all of this is that my computer problems are phantoms from the symptomatic perspective. They don’t always happen, don’t happen to every reader and simply refuse to happen for the fixer guys. You guys have seen the results of a few of the tests that have shown up both as posts and comments. Many have been removed from print after getting confirmation but I left a few as proof to you that I’m working on this shit.

And just so that you know, I can’t get my replies to your comments to post. I have spent hours writing snappy replies to your funny and also snarky comments, but, alas, to no avail.

My most problematic problem, however, is the Squirt’s malady, her urinary tract dealie. The little almost my puppy has got the cutest little girl dog tooter you ever did see. It’s this miniature crevassed-fig of of vaginal flesh that sits perched on her adorable rear end. Her butt is so cute I can’t wait until she is my actual puppy.

Dr. Sam I. Am-Johnson won’t let me use her dog in my moon shows. I have zero compunctions in that department. I’m somewhat desperate to get adopted by a cat so that I can make the swap with Sammy, and Squirt becomes my actual puppy. I need to get that done before the Fourth of July. I’ve got big plans for America’s birthday celebrations that include Squirt flashing her tastefully decorated hiney along side my own rakishly decorated behind.

Squirt’s little tooter is nestled in a fold of skin that sits as both a protector and tooter sweater, and also is the root cause for the urinary infection. See, when she piddles, sometimes a little moisture gets trapped between her tooter and the skin fold. Microscopic bad guys took roost in the moist environs and hatched an infection that managed to travel up to her bladder.

The infection requires a treatment program of twice-daily dosing with antibiotics and a tooter and skin fold swabbing. I actually enjoy ministering aid to my little buddy as a gift to her for everything she does for me. I lay her on her back in my lap and gently separate tooter from protective skin flap. Then I take a quarter of a medicated wipe and carefully dab and blot, and rub the areas.

Dr. Sam I. Am has gotten a touch concerned about my nursing.

In this morning’s regular therapy session, she said to me, she says, “Mooner, I think you talk too much about handling Squirt’s vaginal regions. Some people might misconstrue your concerned doctoring for salaciousness.”

“I don’t give a shit what they think,” I told her.

I don’t give a shit. So what if I play doctor with my almost my puppy’s tooter a couple times a day? Which reminds me of what prompted some of my ADHD brain fritz today. I have trouble remembering things like a medicine schedule. To provide memory assistance, I write things on Postie Notes and then tie them to strings that I wrap on my fingers.

But we’ve been planting the garden so I’m wearing gloves and I don’t see the stringed Postie Note about Squirt’s treatment plan, so I forget. To solve that problem, I drew a schedule to be checked-off with each treatment on a Postie, and tied the Postie to my pecker like a kite. Since Squirt and I pee in the sink together, I have her medicine and the medicated swabs used in the tooter-swabbing process sitting on the vanity by the sink.

Am I a fucking genius, or what?

Drink Carta Blanca beer and grow your own tomatoes. You will be happier with each.

Manana, y’all.

PS– if you can read this, please make a comment. I am gathering evidence for when I go to GoDaddy to demonstrate my problems.

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3 Responses to “Mooner Johnson, MD- Tooter Doctor”

  1. Squatlo says:

    I think I know why you have no comments on this very provocative post, Mooner… I had to back up and reclick “comments” three times to be allowed to this screen and have no evidence that you’ll ever see this shit.

    Regardless, I gotta tell ya, you’re spending WAY too much time on the puppy pooter and not enough in real nookie land. If your dog (and it’s not your dog yet?) has to have twice-daily medicinal wipes in order to keep her twat tweaked, I think you might consider returning her to her original owner… or else you come off looking like one of those animal husbandry majors at Auburn who spends night after night in the stall if Gerta as she ovulates. Nothing good can come of that for the Auburn kid or Gerta.

    fixing your website oughta be the sole focus of your attention. How else do those of us with genuine concerns keep up with your ongoing neurosis?

  2. I’m going to echo Squat’s sentiments – it’s a fucking CHORE to make comments – and then if you come back a day later – you can’t see shit! If you weren’t my almost-fiance, I’d fucking lose you like a bad habit! But, since I DO love you, and I WILL be wifey # 12, I keep coming back…for more punishment. I sure as fuck hope that when I AM # 12, partying with Gram will be a lot more fun than this shit is! Give up the Go.Daddy. Fuck Daddy, come to Momma…

  3. admin says:

    Squat and Reck. This is another test of my reply fix.

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