Remember in the cartoon, The Roadrunner, when the Coyote would accidentally tap a bottle of nitro glycerin - and it exploded, blowing him up too? ... The guy in the bed next to me is screaming into his telephone, "(some sort of gibberish followed by) MY F**KING HEAD KNOWS WHAT TO DO, BUT MY MOUTH JUST WON'T-AH-SAY IT." This is at 2435 decibals of volume with the TV at 2436 decibals ... I want to end it all - he's making me crazy(er) ... back to the Roadrunner ... they just replaced my nitroglycerin patch ... I tried hitting it as hard as I could, farewell cruel world ... damn thing won't explode. But now my chest is bruised.
F**king Coyote.
Amendment to above post:
Three people are now visiting the other fellow, Farmer Jim (bib overalls and all), Lonella-Lynn and Oscar, they're ALL talking loud enough to wake the morgue ... I'm POUNDING on the nitro patch ... F**king Coyote ... F**king Coyote ...
Amendment to the amendment:
while they were (are) all screaming, the lab tech came in to get blood ... I HATE NEEDLES ... she missed the vein ... so she went exploring with the needle ... F**king Coyote ... F**king Coyote
Third amendment: Lonella-Lynn just stuck her head around the curtain and was looking at me ... WTF? I took off my headphones and she yells, "YOUR PHONE WAS RINGIN' DARLIN', BUT I THINK IT DONE QUIT." How the f**ck am I supposed to hear my phone with the four of them yelling over there?
2 comments:
Right after my c-section with my fist baby...I was in a semi-private room with a lady and her family brought in a buffet of Captain D's fish and malt vinegar for them to snack on.
To this day, if I smell malt vinegar, I want to vomit.
Oh gawd! What, no beer!?
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