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Did you just call me a fucker?
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1/16/2007
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I'm not going to write this week because I am sick. I got some kind of upper respiratory viral blight that made it so I can't talk. The weird thing was that I got sort of sick last week, and then it went away long enough for me to think I was okay. That was what I call a viral head-fake. Two days later I woke up with what felt like a pair of lederhosen lodged in my throat. I coughed something up that actually clogged the toilet. Yesterday I sounded every bit like Danny Bonaduce. Finally the voice gave out entirely.
I'm not the kind of guy who sits around and whines when he is sick. I close the door to my room, get all doped up on Nyquil and water, and sleep until I feel better. So that's what I'm going to do now. Ooh wait! Funny story and then swear to god I'm done.
I got shoved and called a fucker by an old lady yesterday. I left work early because I pretty much gave up, and went to the grocery store to pick up a prescription. Grocery stores may be diverse demographic utopias after work and on weekends, but during the week between about 10 am and 4 pm, they belong to old people. They shuffle slowly down the aisles and get things like broth, prune juice, and Little Debbie snack cakes. They look harmless enough, and I even helped one dude get a can of black beans that he couldn't reach. Then, in my congestion-induced stupor, I dawdled in the cold remedies aisle just a little too long.
I felt a bony hand grip my arm and shove me aside with surprising strength. Out of sheer reflex, I grabbed the person's wrist and turned to make my displeasure known. This lady was about 4 feet tall, thin grandma hair, sweet little shawl over her sweet little shoulders, and the fire of a thousand hells burning in her sweet little eyes.
She jerked her hand away and said "Get out of my way!"
I just stood there like a guy who had just been yelled at by an old lady.
Then she looked back at me and said "Fucker."
Just so I could be sure, I said "Did you just call me a fucker?"
She confirmed that she had indeed called me a fucker.
"Okay. Just checking." I said.
I got my drugs, and am now sitting home not really wanting to do anything but sleep. That's why I'm not writing today. See you next week.
 Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 12:33 PM |
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5 Comments:
**C**
I had it the week after new years. The first part of the head fake was two weeks earlier. Knocked me out for the whole week. (I didn’t write either) The doc’s say, “It’s something viral” which is shorthand for, I ain’t going to do anything for you, leave $75 on your way out. Even the penicillin infused crack I picked up on the way home didn’t seem to help much. Awww, good old Mexico where you can still get coded cough syrup by the gallon jug.
I was fucking shocked.
Another time I am walking into Walmart (my second mistake) and a mummy driving a 400' whale-car rear-ends me, in my actual rear-end, going about 1 mile per hour.
But none of that is the point. The point is you totally have to check out this, the world's creepiest fucking book cover, ever. The book itself is good, but man you will have nightmares!
http://www.ethshar.com/noncovers.html
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