"I'm so glad you survived your autopsy."

Over the holidays, the neighbors invited us over for wine. We commenced talking about our medical issues because...well, that's what people do when they get older.  (I know it sounds boring, but heed my word, whippersnappers, you'll some day be in the same boat.)

The problem is I'm not much of a medical guy. My knowledge of physiology pretty much comes from old Warner Brothers cartoons (Hey, you can learn a lot by watching Bugs Bunny torture Elmer Fudd!). So the conversation came around to our strange skin conditions, something that the male neighbor and I had in common. (I won't go into detail about my weird, necrotic, skin-eating rash because I've yakked about it in the past at great lengths and some of you may be eating breakfast. But thankfully, it seems to have finally resolved itself.).

I said, "Gary, I went to numerous doctors, allergists, and dermatologists, and nobody could figure it out. One quack said it was caused by the sun. I'm never out in the sun! They even did an autopsy on my back!"

Well... I was met with silence. Then the ridicule set in.

"I'm so glad you survived your autopsy, dear," offered my wife.

More laughs while I sat there helpless, turning fourteen shades of red. "Yeah, um...well...I think I need to go tend to my TV dinner I left in the oven."

Then things got worse. We moved onto my horrible knee pain, something that's still bugging me. "I don't know, guys, but the pain keeps me up at night. I might've torn my hibiscus."

Again, silence. Then the laughter erupted. Now, the one thing I know even less about human anatomy is flowers. Apparently, I'd told them I'd torn my flower. How was I supposed to know "hibiscus" is a flower? It's not like they taught that in school. They definitely didn't have Daffy Duck talking about the hibiscus flower.

Sheesh. If this is the way my 2024 is gonna go, I think I'll just go back to bed and sleep the year away.

Speaking of really dumb guys, meet Zach Cavanaugh, loveable, yet dunder-headed male stripper (but don't call him that!). Zach's got a problem: he can't help but accidentally stumble across dead bodies constantly. It's up to his long-suffering, usually pregnant, but very competent sleuth sister to bail him out. You'll find lotsa zany situations and characters in my Zach and Zora comic mystery series, but don't take my word for it! Go buy 'em already!