Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work she goes (Monday)
Typewriter torment, it will soon harry me again: Tuesday; Perky Pam is due to put a spike into my vein Monday, or I would begin again sooner. Fred took us up to the Invisibe Clinic Thursday, with his guitar charts for entertainment. He is certainly dedicated -- as am I to my writing (typewriter torment), it's simply that I keep collecting rejection slips while he sings in front of the church.
So we were the doctor's first patients. Or actually, she was the patient; I was there for moral support. The appointment itself took little time. The nurse removed the dressing & then the doctor said the stitches come out next Thursday, but she could return to work on Monday.
We ran the doctor's excuse by Pizza Hut, then I let her nap for an hour -- she'd been so worked up over her appointment that she'd been unable to sleep all night. In the meantime, I sprayed the alley out with Weed-b-Gone. When Trish woke up we went to the Layout, where such types as Noncorean & Mary Juana were hanging out. We had hot beef sandwiches for lunch. I think Cheri is finally starting to put more water in her roasts; the meat wasn't tough, as usual.
When Trish & I came home, we watched Return of the King Part 2, then Trish started to clean the kitchen. I ran over to Fat Albert's Sons to pick up our film -- the pictures of snow we took for Joey, who has been conspicuously absent. I also picked up a cold-pak of Diet Max w/ Lime. When suppertime came I took Trish out to El Taco Loco, but instead of crazy tacos we had crazy nachos. After supper I put The Empire Strikes Back in the VCR while she took a shower.
I fell asleep during it as I'd taken a whole Xanax to ward off a bizarre cognitive experience & fuck Scientology & the skinny dog. These really horrible experiences happened before, the first time I had to take haldol & once again, fuck Scientology. I've made an appointment with Doc Larocque to see about switching from haldol to stelazine because of the side-effects & I truly feel the Elrons of this world can go fuck themselves.
So we were the doctor's first patients. Or actually, she was the patient; I was there for moral support. The appointment itself took little time. The nurse removed the dressing & then the doctor said the stitches come out next Thursday, but she could return to work on Monday.
We ran the doctor's excuse by Pizza Hut, then I let her nap for an hour -- she'd been so worked up over her appointment that she'd been unable to sleep all night. In the meantime, I sprayed the alley out with Weed-b-Gone. When Trish woke up we went to the Layout, where such types as Noncorean & Mary Juana were hanging out. We had hot beef sandwiches for lunch. I think Cheri is finally starting to put more water in her roasts; the meat wasn't tough, as usual.
When Trish & I came home, we watched Return of the King Part 2, then Trish started to clean the kitchen. I ran over to Fat Albert's Sons to pick up our film -- the pictures of snow we took for Joey, who has been conspicuously absent. I also picked up a cold-pak of Diet Max w/ Lime. When suppertime came I took Trish out to El Taco Loco, but instead of crazy tacos we had crazy nachos. After supper I put The Empire Strikes Back in the VCR while she took a shower.
I fell asleep during it as I'd taken a whole Xanax to ward off a bizarre cognitive experience & fuck Scientology & the skinny dog. These really horrible experiences happened before, the first time I had to take haldol & once again, fuck Scientology. I've made an appointment with Doc Larocque to see about switching from haldol to stelazine because of the side-effects & I truly feel the Elrons of this world can go fuck themselves.
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