Disaster Back

‘Wow this is amazing! I’ve never seen anything like it before!’ exclaims the fit man in khaki shorts as he holds my left foot in his hand. Should I feel pride or shame? I briefly consider changing my name to Madame Piedmonstrueux and charging a fee. The skilled athletic therapist is responding to my malformed appendages in a familiar way. When an orthopaedic surgeon first diagnosed my condition in 1999, he beamed ‘These CT scans are definitely going in my special teaching files! I have not encountered such a case in over 25 years of practice’ ‘Oh. But can anything be done to correct my problem?’ I asked. He laughed hollowly, back turned while walking out the door. And no, his name wasn’t Dr. House. The podiatrist was more helpful, fitting me with orthotics that (among other things) tipped me forward to relieve some pressure. All the same, he ‘played with’ my feet, bending and twisting them for over 20 minutes, a glint in his eye and small smile on his face. It was kind of creepy, but that’s what I get for being such a freak of nature.

What exactly is wrong with me? Here is the official medical description of my left foot based on the CT scans: ‘Seen best on the reconstructed views is bony ankylosis between the left sustentaculum tali and the undersurface of the talus medially. Just lateral to the area of the fused sustentaculum tali is an additional bony bar extending across the subtalar joint between the undersurface of the talus and calcaneus. … Certainly there are degenerative changes at the site of articulation at this time.’

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Fantasy Revs Class

This morning I awoke from anxious dreams to discover that in my bed I had been changed into a monstrous verminous spin instructor. Feeling constriction in my shaved buttocks and thighs, I glanced down to find them encased in tight spandex shorts. ‘God my package looks small,’ I murmured to myself. ‘And did my quads expand overnight?’ As Ogre raised her right hook, I sensed alarm: Wasn’t I supposed to be somewhere? Three digital clocks on the nightstand displayed different times, each suggesting that I would be late to teach my first spin (aka revs) class. Oh fucknuts! Luckily I was already—and somehow magically—wearing an attractive cycling outfit, complete with matching shoes, purchased during my last trip to bike-friendly Poland.

[I guess you know where I stand on the ongoing and ever-heated ‘proper penis position in underpants’ debate.]

After grabbing a  Continue reading

Health versus Fitness

‘I’m back!’ I greet the lovely young woman at my gym as she swipes my card, for the second time that day. ‘You look more alive every time I see you,’ she sing-songs in response. ‘Do you mean that I look fatter every time you see me?’ I inquire, unplucked eyebrows raised. ‘Well … yes,’ she admits somewhat sheepishly, like that towel-wearing locker room guy on TV who makes fun of his teammate’s volumized hair. I’m not sure why, for I like long hair on a man. Let me specify that I mean scampish, carefree, tousled hair on the verge of needing to be cut, not greasy hair in a ponytail draped down the sloping spine of an otherwise bald man. So you will no longer be surprised to hear that in Quizzaz I chose Severus over Lucius: 

His menacingly alluring hair fills me with a desire to obey.

Even a  threatening cane can’t save Mr. Limp Locks.

[This one’s for you, G-Smash, even though your Lelo is named Ralph.]

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Shout Out to Haters!

This past week was a media frenzy for FFG. After my research project was featured in the Edmonton Journal, the story was picked up by the National Post, and just this morning I was interviewed for CBC’s Q by the adorable, velvet-throated Jian Ghomeshi. Sigh. When his producer asked me to be on the show, I immediately blurted ‘Oh yeah, I have a big crush on Jian!’ [Edited in October 2014: I greatly regret writing this paragraph after learning that eight women have recently come forward to report their abuse by Jian. I believe these women and now feel only disgust for him]. Continue reading