Demon loads, nose rape and the West Palm Beach Improv
I’m sitting here on a plane headed to West Palm Beach Florida where I’m performing at the Improv comedy club this Friday and Saturday night, and I’m able to breathe freely from my nose for the first time since I was a little boy. My timing is perfect, because the guy sitting next to me smells like my dog’s dick. And he’s drinking, at 11 am. Without an ounce of irony I judge him silently while I pop a pot cookie in my mouth.
“Weak ass stinky bitch.”
Actually I wouldn’t really think that, because he seems like a really nice guy. I’m just being silly. He does fucking stink though, I have have a feeling he’s going to get drunk.
2 weeks ago this tuesday I had surgery to repair a deviated septum, and yesterday I had the plastic splints removed from inside my nose and had my nasal passages cleaned and vacuumed.
If you’ve never had this procedure done, let me tell you – it’s pretty fucking intense.
Just getting the surgery done was a relief as I’ve had a fucked up nose since I was about 5 when I smashed it falling down a flight of stairs. I’ve always wanted to fix it, but it was just hard to organize the down time. Last month I tore a hamstring muscle which I knew was going to take me out of action for a little while, so I figured now was the time to go ahead and get it fixed. The surgery went off without a hitch, and once they removed the packing inside my nose it really wasn’t too bad.
The cleaning of the nasal passages, however, was one of the most uncomfortable things I’ve ever experienced in my life. I can’t say it hurt too much, because the doctor sprayed the inside of my nostrils with a numbing agent called Lidocaine. It numbs the inside of your nose pretty well, but the downside is that it tastes like rotten demon sperm.
The instant the doctor stuck the tube up my nose and started pumping out that horrible liquid tears were rolling down my face and I’m gagging and coughing while this vile shit drips down my nasal passage to the back of my tongue – way in the back where it feels like you shouldn’t even be tasting things.
Once the numbing kicked in, the doctor started the cleaning process which made Satan’s loads feel like they were just a warmup act.
I couldn’t exactly see what he was doing, but he was using these forceps to stretch open my nostrils, and then he was sticking various instruments in there and cutting out gigantic blood clots that could best be described as something you might expect to find in Amy Winehouse’s toilet after a weekend bender.
Big, thick, black clots that looked like aborted rat fetuses.
He would cut and clean, and scrape the clots off the wall, and then stuff a long metal vacuum up there to get all the loose blood and mucus. And when I say up there, I really mean UP there. It went so far back I didn’t even know that there was a tunnel back there. I was shocked. It was like he found a secret cave in my head. The vacuum had a long metal tip that looked like a car antenna, (remember those?) and he stuck this fucking thing way up my nostrils past my eyebrows. I could hear the liquid, sucking sounds both outside my head, and far more disturbingly – inside it too. There’s something extra freaky about hearing a biological, liquid, suction sound when it’s coming from in between your eyeballs.
Occasionally it would go too far and the vacuum would poke what felt like the wall to my brain. Not even like a wall, more like a membrane that seemed about as thick as a truck stop condom, and this pokey little car antenna vacuum thing would jam into it and stick onto the back wall just like when the pay-per-suck hose at the self service car wash gets stuck on your floor mats. I would even hear that same high-pitched vacuum protest noise in my skull when it happened, and every time it stuck up there I clenched up like my asshole just got tasered.
The whole procedure took over an hour, and every 15 minutes or so he would dose me back up with more Lidocaine when it was obvious that it’s magical pain-reducing spell was wearing off.
We had a nice little system going, where he would poke my brain, I would clench the chair like I was on the space shuttle reentering the atmosphere, and he would ask,
“More hot, bitter demon loads?”
“(coughing and gagging) Yes, please…”
As the slippery Lidocaine tube went up my raw, post-surgery nose, all I could think of was Satan’s dick – gray and slimy like a dead eel – shooting billions of individual evil sperm cells up there, each one of them looking like a microscopic version of the chest burster from the movie “Alien.” I envisioned them roaring down my throat, screaming in agony and ecstasy as they alternately fucked each other and eat each other alive.
I’m gagging and coughing, and as he’s pumping this vile shit up my nose, my head is pressed against the back of the chair and I’m imagining that the head rest is the Satan’s big, hairy, 6 fingered paw holding the back of my head like a selfish boyfriend getting his nut off. Thankfully, Satan is a two pump chump. 5, 6 pumps at the most and I’m leaking tears like a bitch, and numb as an old whore’s clit.
“OK? Back to the nose rape?”
“(gagging and coughing) Back to the nose rape, please.”
The next hour was a repeat performance, with; “Demon loads” opening the show, followed by “nose rape,” your middle act, and then, “asshole taser brain vacuum,” your headliner.
There’s 3 shows in a row, and each show has a two violent sneeze minimum. I mean sneezes so violent I thought I was going to blast a hole through the universe and blow my blood and snot into other dimensions.
Much like at a comedy club, if there’s 3 shows in a night, by the time the final show rolls around the audience is usually a fucking mess.
Just like the drunk people who worked all day and are falling asleep in the audience at a midnight show on a Friday night, when that third “asshole taser brain vacuum” act kicked in, as much as I try to see the humor in everything, I really didn’t believe that anything could ever be funny at that moment.
Finally, like all things, eventually it ended, and when it did, I was on a spectacular Lidocaine and endorphin high. I walked out of that doctor’s office loving every person in the whole fucking world. I was so happy that my “demon load,” “nose rape,” “asshole taser brain vacuum” loop had ended that I was just really appreciating everything.
No bullshit, I was in the elevator afterwards, and I was thinking, “Wow. What a nice elevator. It has a 3000 lb capacity? That’s pretty impressive.” I was LOVING that fucking elevator. I wanted to buy one just like it.
I got a diet coke from the pharmacy downstairs, and when I stepped outside, cracked it open and sipped it in the warm sun I felt like a P.O.W. getting released from the Hanoi Hilton.
It’s kind of amazing that sometimes it takes something shitty to make us truly appreciate how great and enjoyable this life can be.