The Holy Tara is better today.  She was in a bad way before the Doc put her on some sort of steroid.  She was arguing with me and worried about her hair last night so that means she’s on the road to recovery.

The HT went to have a chest X-ray yesterday.  She was hurting so the Doc, probably to shut me  up since I was worried about the weird pneumonias (bad part about being the Cootie Queen, I guess, is knowing about that stuff).  The X-ray came out fine.

I was not the one who took her to have a picture made of her chest.  Mr. Smiff did those honors.  I wish I could’ve been the one to take her because her X-ray technician was a transvestite.  She said he looked like a man, had man hands, talked like a man and smelled like a man but had women’s hair and makeup.  (I asked her if she/he smelled like beef and cheese like the fake Santa in Elf did).

Interestingly,  the HT started to perk up after her visit to the Imaging Center. Go figya.

Oh…and the title of today’s “Oprah?”  “Burning Questions For Miley Cyrus.”  Like, is Oprah turning into the modern day Tiger Beat?