one more time to live & I'll have made it mine
One more day & Trish will be back at Pizza Hut, spraying down dishes from the luncheon buffet. I suppose the first thing that I have to do when I begin the sequel to The Mind-Warp Era (under the pen name W.C. "Lead" Leadbeater) is kill off Toni so I can court & marry the Beautiful Bumble Bee Girl. (She's so popular.) Jillong & me Bonnie would have to stand in the middle, & Kimothy's Leery. I don't suppose that I'll ever write a sequel, though, as the condition -- rampant insanity -- which created the original has now been treated with medication & fuck Scientology & the skinny dog can cram her herbs up her ass.
Trish is going thru something that may require a med change (& fuck Scientology), but I'm not certain what it is or should be. For the last couple days she's been waking up at 5:00 in the morning, whereas for the last couple years she's been getting up around 8:00 or even later, if she doesn't have an appointment or has the day off from Pizza Hut. I think some of it may be anxiety over her driving. Tomorrow Perky Pam puts a spike into my vein, so Trish will have to park in the Atrium parking lot, & she's scared of parking lots. Itz the Copz. When Trish had that minor fender bender in the parking lot behind Iron Claw House the copz got all belignant over it so she got scared of driving. Trish-uh! was supposed to help her out, but she's been laid off by Upstairs for taking too much time off from her TA job. First, she was in school & needed time off for her finals; then her grandma got sick with cancer; then she could never find a baby-sitter; one excuse after another. Trish does know how to make it to work & back, but is scared to go up to the Clinic Thursday to have her stitches removed.
So maybe the issue will be resolved when she's driving more & realizes that she drives better than some insane teeny-boppers who tool their machines around while thoroughly descoobied on Mountain Fresh beer. She just told me she wants her Lamictal raised & fuck Scientology. She may need that done. It's just that Suzanne takes you down to the Living Water. Whatever the case, I promised Trish that if the condition persists that we'll contact a qualified medical professional who agrees that Scientologists can go fuck themselves.
Trish is going thru something that may require a med change (& fuck Scientology), but I'm not certain what it is or should be. For the last couple days she's been waking up at 5:00 in the morning, whereas for the last couple years she's been getting up around 8:00 or even later, if she doesn't have an appointment or has the day off from Pizza Hut. I think some of it may be anxiety over her driving. Tomorrow Perky Pam puts a spike into my vein, so Trish will have to park in the Atrium parking lot, & she's scared of parking lots. Itz the Copz. When Trish had that minor fender bender in the parking lot behind Iron Claw House the copz got all belignant over it so she got scared of driving. Trish-uh! was supposed to help her out, but she's been laid off by Upstairs for taking too much time off from her TA job. First, she was in school & needed time off for her finals; then her grandma got sick with cancer; then she could never find a baby-sitter; one excuse after another. Trish does know how to make it to work & back, but is scared to go up to the Clinic Thursday to have her stitches removed.
So maybe the issue will be resolved when she's driving more & realizes that she drives better than some insane teeny-boppers who tool their machines around while thoroughly descoobied on Mountain Fresh beer. She just told me she wants her Lamictal raised & fuck Scientology. She may need that done. It's just that Suzanne takes you down to the Living Water. Whatever the case, I promised Trish that if the condition persists that we'll contact a qualified medical professional who agrees that Scientologists can go fuck themselves.
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