Apparently, I’m getting goofy in my old age.

I was always afraid of that, getting old and starting to believe and spout stupid shit.  My mom did that as she aged…got goofy. Sure, it was funny, her arguing with the garbage men about stealing her garbage, or yammering about the couple next door that film child porn on the picnic table in their back yard, but who wants that for themselves, you know?

Not me, but, here it is, anyway.  You know, it’s a sad thing to come face to face with one’s mental decay, but whatcha gonna do, am I right?   No, I’m not sitting naked on the front porch, screaming at people, and tossing my stools at ‘em as they pass by, but it can’t be too far off.

Here’s the thing…

Like a lot of people, I’m wearing out from a lot of years of use, my body is…and my mind, as you’ll see in just a moment, although my mental and physical decay can’t be any worse than this fucking sentence, or I don’t think it can.  That aside, in addition to the hip that needs replacing and my smooshed foot, I also have many other arthritic and painful stuff: knuckles, shoulders, and especially my neck.  I can see all these things as functions of the normal wear and tear I’ve gathered along the ole byways of walking the Earth for nearly 64 years, but lots of this is as a direct result of driving for 30 years.  I can see the connections clearly. 

Well, it doesn’t matter why, now, does it? Hmm? No, not it doesn’t. So I don’t know why you brought it up. Let’s just move along to your point, shall we?

So I hurt a lot.

But on Facebook, a friend of mine told me about this stuff a couple weeks ago, some Mexican crap that she swore would make me a new man.  Yeah, right. Well, I like the woman, she’s not some fucking dumbass, so I knew that she was sincere when she was telling me how it helped her and several other people she had turned on to it…but…um…I’m a real cynical bastard, and I don’t go for much of this juju magic potion bullshit.

But, I read what I could on this crap on their website, my Spanish ain’t so great, cruised around the net to see if I could find people dying from it, and salted the website away for “some other time.”

She kept on hounding me to order some of the shit.

And then I found out…

…that when Kim and I were having our original discussion about how this Mexican Magic could turn shit into gold, another friend of mine was listening.  This is a man I worked with for years, who had fucked up his knee, had surgery on it, and was still having a lot of pain. He ordered some, and told me that it took his pain away almost immediately, that he felt like his knee was new again, or words to that effect.”

Ok, that did it, I ordered some, and it came yesterday.  Check THIS shit out…

I took one of the things about eleven yesterday morning, and one about seven last evening…and I woke up this morning with ZERO pain.  None.  My neck always gives me fits in the morning, sometimes making me nauseous with the intensity of the pain, sometimes less severe, but always there.   Well, not today. As I write this, it’s shortly after nine Pacific time, and I feel wonderful!  I have no neck pain, I can rotate my head a full 180 degrees, and that is something I have not been able to do for years, no shoulder pain no matter how I rotate them with my arms flailing…nothing.

Has it helped my hip, you ask? Yes, yes it has. It wouldn’t be true to say that it has taken all the pain away, but it sure has lessened it.  In fact, I’ve spent most of the morning walking without my cane, though I find it more comfortable to use it, and wouldn’t be comfortable outside without it.

Oh, and my back isn’t aching at all this morning.  A test of that will be when I take my shower. That always results in the muscles in my lower back protesting loudly, along with my hip, at being made to stand up that long.  (Long enough to take a shower…fuck, how lame.)

Supposed to take this crap every 12 hours, and at about seven I took another one.

The only conclusion I can draw, after experiencing this for myself this morning, right now, as a matter of fact, is that I got me some Oldtimers going on here, and I’m off in some fucking Wonderworld, or wherever us goofy bastards go when we twist off like this.

This shit simply cannot be working like all the hoopla suggests. Sorry, I don’t believe in juju medicine.

But, in the interests of investigative journalism, I’m going to keep taking these pills and writing about how my (apparent and obvious) senile dementia makes me think I’m feeling, and as always, I’ll report back to you people.

Right now, I have to go dancing…