April Winchell

Anticipation

As I told you on these pages a few days ago, I was diagnosed with cancer last week. Fortunately, it was a really good cancer. The second best kind to have, according to one doctor. I wanted the best kind, but Liz Taylor has it all.

Even though everyone has been telling me that I have every reason to be optimistic, I admit that I've been nervous about getting some chest x-rays. Apparently, this type of cancer can spread to the lungs and bones.

Well, I had the the x-rays taken yesterday, and fortunately they show no sign of cancer. I'll need a bone scan after surgery on the first to make sure all is well there too, but I remain cautiously optimistic.

I also want to let you know that I have started blogging on myspace. I don't know what compelled me to do that, but I have been enjoying it a lot.

If you're signed up with myspace, you can post your comments about my entries, email me, read my friend's blogs, look through thousands of pictures of cam whores in their thongs and generally cause a ruckus. If you're not signed up, it's free, and it's a pretty fun little time waster.

Speaking of time wasters, I will not be doing Mr. KABC's show this Friday night. While I'm feeling a little better about everything, I'm not quite feeling up to three hours of trying to be amusing on the radio. Instead, I'll be going on a 3 day "Cancerpalooza" tour with my friend John, who is sweet and funny, and unlike Mr. KABC, smells really good.

And speaking of funny . . .

Your Scar Stories

As I told you last week, the surgery I'll be having on the 1st will leave me with a longish scar at the base of my throat.

I asked you, gentle readers, to submit some good stories I can tell about how I might have come by it.

Here are some of my favorites:

"Let's just say that Jessica Simpson is not as friendly as she seems on television."

"Bill Handel saw me on the street and mistook me for a ham hock."

How about you just say, "I had a date with Udo Kier," then smile mysteriously.

"Yeardley Smith and I were up for the same part."

Wing contacts you and asks to meet. Extremely flattered by the invitation, you agree to meet at your home.  As soon as you ask her in and close the door, she plucks the chopsticks from her bun and slashes your neck, infuriated by your constant ridiculing of her music.  As you lie in agony on the floor, she sings the chorus of "It Cuts Like a Knife" and flees.

When you heard her talking to you, you realized it was finally time to have your unborn twin removed.

While having a heated affair with Frank Gifford he accidentally mistakes your throat for a hooker's back. It took ten hours to repair your trachea. If you look closely, you can still see the imprint of Frank's molars.

"I was out clubbing with Candy Bergen. She got wasted and screamed, 'Knucklehead isn't fit to lick the splinters off Mortimer's ass', then stabbed me with a broken bottle."

"I was hanged for a crime I didn't commit. Now it's payback time."

"I had surgery on my throat to make me sound more like Wing."

"I was sitting next to Fabio on that roller coaster and caught a few beak shards."

"I was O.J.'s first wife."

"I shared a cell with Martha Stewart and refused to loan her my Bundt pan."

"I had my Adam's apple removed to complete my transformation to a woman."

"I had a radical new form of knee surgery."

"Oh, that's just a love bite from Leonard Nimoy."

"Never get between Angelina Jolie and her adopted kids, and let's leave it at that."

"I accidently bumped into Yaphet Kotto at Tower Records. He retaliated with a boxcutter. "

Clutch your throat, sob " Mr. KABC is NO gentleman", and run away in tears.

"It was my first experiment with autoerotic asphyxiation. It was also my last."

"Shaving accident. I don't wanna talk about it. 'Safety razors', my ass."

"Did you know that if they hang you for rustlin' and you live, you get a full pardon?"

"I forgot my safety word.

You're actually evolving into an Amphibian life form and it's your gill line.

"Here's a tip. Never go to Benihana on the night they let the interns cook."

You took a trip to Las Vegas to visit your good friends Sigfried and Roy. When Montecore the tiger found out you had thyroid cancer, he tried to protect you by dragging you to the radiologist.

Two words: head transplant.

"I don't know, Man. 'Blogging used to be all about the love, but it's been getting ugly lately."