Say Something Nice

As we bid a fond farewell to 2009, let us not forget how we got here.  Although many of my very many fans are sure I sprang from  perfect loins appropriately schooled and dressed - it simply is not true.  It was a long and winding road.  Cursed with perfect hair, flawless skin, uncanny wit and so much more - it was difficult to survive the jealous stares from my enemies and friends alike.  Is it my fault that I was the best dancer EVER?  Why am I scorned for my extraordinary singing voice?  I still feel the hot tears of shame coursing down my face. 
 true story - I recall one of the last times I was in my favourite bar (Lost & Found) having a smart cocktail, minding my own business.  A voice came from behind me, like an ill wind.  "you've been flipping that hair back out of your eyes since 1976.  I can't believe you haven't snapped your skinny neck!" I did not care to respond and my associate, who shall remain nameless (FLAME) was too busy shooting kahlua and cream out of his nose to rush to my aid.  I simply pictured the hate-mongerer with dysentery.  I did a lot of 'picturing' back then.  Truth be told - I still do.  It's my guilty pleasure. 
 true story - Same bar, different day.  I was chatting up one of our many visitors, mainly because the locals avoided me like royalty -  (swine).  My lighter didn't function so I picked up a lighter off the bar, assuming it belonged to the visitor.  NOPE.  Some low-life turned it all the way up and set it down on the bar.  Next to me.  I set my bangs ablaze.  Beating out the flames with my free hand I continued on as if this were an everyday occurrence.  "Bet I'm the first guy to set himself on fire for you" I quipped.  Score Kabuki - 1 Evil - 0.  
  My point in revealing these painful memories is not to humble myself.  No, quite the opposite.  Because you see I remained as fabulous as ever, even when tainted with the stench of unpleasantness.  Unpleasantness that could easily have befallen the common man.  Like yourself.  Can't you imagine?  Don't make me start 'picturing'.  Have I gone too far?  Told too much?  No, you can stand the pain.  After my latest operation (government plot) my surgeon was trying to get me out of the bed in the recovery room.  I think they rent them from the mafia by the hour.  Not sure. I'm just sayin.  Anyway he said to me, TO ME (this is where it gets good) "Don't fear the pain".  Fortunately the nurse cranked up my morphine drip before I got my hands completely around his little medical throat.  He knew, or should has known, that I have been in pain every day since 1999.  Not always all day.  But every day.  And yes, sometimes all day.  Somewhere on my body something always hurts. Pain hurts, it burns, it stabs, it aches, it spasms, it cuts.  Sometimes it snatches your breath away.  Othertimes you scream.  When its not bad - you forget how bad bad is. Thankfully.  And I don't fear it.  I despise it with a fury that would make the sun pale,  but I don't fear it, and it taught me that.  Don't fear.  Thirty years ago I would have taken my life because of it.  Today it could very well be your life.  If you get out of line.  So stop reading silly blogs and go get me some chocolate,  any get yourself some as well.  I remain beautifully Kabuki Zero.