Friday, August 31, 2012


Go ahead -- make my lunch! A tuna sandwich on white. I like white. It's not chewy like wheat, so I don't need my teeth. And use the water tuna. Not oil. It's greasy. And cut the crusts off, I don't like the crust. And no lettuce. With a glass of milk. Skim, not whole. Whole milk makes me gassy. And put it on the tray by my chair by the tv. It's a new tv. My kids gave it to me so I could watch baseball. I like baseball. How about that Willie Mays, can he play, or what? Hey, it's not on baseball! I think the night nurse changes it to the Spanish stations when I'm asleep. I don't like the Spanish stations. The men all have thick mustaches and the women are fat and show their big breasts. And I don't understand what they're saying. Where are my pants? I left them on the chair. Who stole my pants!? Oh, there they are. Check the pockets. I had seven dollars in there. Make sure it's there. I think the night nurse took it. Where's my sandwich!? It's Tuesday. I know that. I have to make. Action! Why can't I bring my gun here? I have my rights. It was a gift from the Iti fella I made a western with last century. Besides, it's not loaded. I'm not loaded. They don't let you drink here. The night nurse drinks. I can smell it on her when she rolls me to change the sheets. She thinks I can't but I can. She also looks at my pecker. She thinks I don't notice. But I do.  Where are my pants? The blue ones with the buttons. I don't like a zipper. My pecker gets caught in it. Hurts like the dickens. Dickens? Ha. Where's that sandwich already?! Oh, I'm eating it. Yum. Where's the bathroom, I have to make. Never mind. Go ahead -- change my pants.

No comments: