I am writing this from my death bed. I have moments of clarity. I'm not sure if this is one of them.
Remember when I sad the big gas companies were going to kill me with a disease genetically altered to attack my DNA? Well it's happening. My boys are being slightly affected because; well because they're damn near clones. I'm dying a slow painful death. Jen is healthy.
I need some stuffy head, scratchy throat, almost puking, gave birth to a 10lb baby turd, eyes are failing, can't hear to well, think I'm seeing shit, skin is hot, bones are cold, ache all over, no appetite, hungry as hell, get me something to drink, I'm coming home Jesus, I want my mommy cause I'm a big whiney baby medicine.
The following are my side of the conversations today. I'm not sure what Jen said cause I wasn't paying attention. I think I was whining.
"JEN, I ache all over. My bones are cold."
"No I don't wanna take a hot shower. I'm burning up."
"No food. The smell is making me nauseous."
"Where's my soup?"
"Do we have crackers?"
"Well go to the store. I'm gonna take a hot shower. I'm freezing."
"Are you still here? WHHHHHHHHY?"
"I was talking to my granny in the shower."
"I know she's been dead for 15 years."
"She WAS there."
"Would you give me some orange juice?"
"This is not what I asked for I wanted Pineapple Orange. I may have said Orange but you know I don't like straight Orange."
"Fuck it, can I have some Sprite instead?"
"I don't caaarrrrreee what the doctor said. I want Sprite."
"Why did you give me Sprite? The doctor says no soda, besides I'm freezing. Can I have hot tea?"
"Where's my soup?"
"I don't want it now, you took to long. I'm nauseous."
"Tuck the blanket around my feet. I'm cold."
"Are you trying to kill me?"
"Then why did you turn the blanket up to high?"
"It is turned on. Oh look, there's my dog from when I was a kid."
"Well he must be a zombie dog, cause he's sitting in the corner fucking waving at me."
"Call Dr. Kevorkian. Make me an appointment."
"But I aaaaammmmm dying."
"You don't love me."
"I thought you were making me soup."
"I want at least one last meal."
"I take care of you when you're sick."
"Get a hammer and kill me now."
"You're in cahoots with the gas companies."
"Jack will investigate."
"You're going to prison."
"What if Jack works for the gas companies?"
"You're all out to get me."
"Bring me my laptop. I'm leaving a record of your abuse."
There you have it. That's what I remember. The Grim Reaper is knocking at the door and I'm thinking about letting him in. If somehow my Super Idiot powers manage to ward of the sickness, I'll be back. But then again I'm looking out the window and it looks like the Reaper brought hookers. Could be party time.