arnoldglee said:
Here's a suggestion that you might really enjoy... Massage.
Dangit Boss, ain't I toldcha a dozen times not to drink with your grinding hand and vicey-versey. Not to mention the one-handed abusin' of that infused bro of yours, Li'l Jerry. Dontcha know it takes TWO hands to handle a whopper (according to Burger King).
Arnold got really close to the answer IMHO. It's massage okay, the kind you book by the hour and, as Danny O'Keefe put it on his
Breezy Stories album, "The money's just for the room, babe. The love is free." Hell, book a flight for two (you and Garth) to Phuket, Thailand as a business expense. Tell the IRS you had to check out some FSHBM'chetes in the bush there. Yeah right ......... it's all jungle in Thailand unless you're in Bangkok or Phuket -- then it's bush, alright. Two hours of Thai massage and bathing with "Hi, my name's Nikki" while under serious influence of their local concoction of brewed coconut milk gin, unfiltered monkey urine, & reconstituted kerosene and you'll be a new man. You just won't know which one, not that it'll matter much. If you're very lucky, once the after-glow and the effects of the bilious swill in yer gut wears thin, they'll let you out onto the street to go and try to find your clothes. Be sure to check Mr Lak's used clothing stall just down the street. I hear he does good business in foreign designed attire.
Have Garth **try** to stay sober enough to pour you back onto a plane for the return flight to Wauseon, so you can get shots for what's gonna be ailin' ya. It's the "displacement theory" in practice. Ya ever notice how a toothache'll bother you until you stub your toe sharply, then the tooth takes a backseat to the new pain. Ya just need some offshore displacement, eh? And trust me, Nikki knows just what and how to displace all yer aches 'n pains, including some ya didn't even know ya had. Never mind the new ones she's givin' ya. They'll go away in time with medication and lotsa therapy.
No, no ...................... don't thank me. I'm just one of the givin' kinda Hogs who've got your best interests at heart.
Seriously Boss, take care of yourself. Get professional medical help. (this from a guy who sees a doc about once a decade because he figures, "If I'm making a payment on somebody's Mercedes, it's gonna be *MY* Mercedes.") You're the best at making bomb-proof knives. Let them do the work they do best. Let's call it professional consideration from one craftsman to another.