Oh, Mother!

You accuse me of neglecting my blog and you are right but you know where I;ve been?  I have been to the edge of hell.  Maybe not even the edge, maybe I fell into the goddamn thing once or twice — and I;ll tell you this, all you whom I wish to strangle, no place as goddamned as hell.  But I didn’t need to tell you that.

The “physicians” blurbled that I dropped into a comatose state.  Those doctors (if you need one, stop at the nearest donut shop) pronounced gravely that my heart was nearly asleep, my blood pressure was non-existent, that if a flea landed on me I’d die.  But while the doctors were flitting around like drunken desk clerks with their butts on fire, I was sniffing sulfur, baby.  Oooo, I was in such a place.

I gazed around the unholy precincts and I didn’t see anybody I knew.  Some of them will be packing the place once their time was up. Yesterday I saw either Hitler or Jesse James — I couldn’t tell from the smoke. They play a lot of Simon and Garfunkel down there — which I thought was strange.


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