Pitchas of my Stitches
This update is going to be short bcause sitting upright hurts and I can;t reach my pain pills from here, but I thought I would try to give you a 'lil update on my swollen head. By the way, no typos will be corrected in this entry to prove just how bad drugs are for you kids (why do you think they call it "Dope"?). it's a cautionary tale.
Ok, so this hurts. I'm just syaiong. You can see from the lovely snapshot there one of my more colorful bruises. I have a bunch, so it was hard to pick a favorite. I also like this one, particulalrly since yu can see one of my stitches hanging down like a little loose thred on a cardigan. Pull it and my whole face unravels until my eyes fall out.
Wht the photo cannot convey is just how unpleassantthis sensation is. Ooh baby. It's so tight and so swollen. My ears look like little cherry tomatoes and I feel like I'm wearing someone else's face. it's all very Dean Koontz.
It occurred to me as I sat in bed, giant swollen head throbbing, throwingback Percocet like Tic Tacs, that this is indeed Jerry Lewis karma coming back to bite me in the ass. All those times I mocked him and his giant melon, and now here I am in the same boat, but without the legions of fans in France and nothing to talk about at the Learning Annex.
Ok, I have to go. You may not hear from me for a few days, but I'll be thinking about yoyu as I drift in and out of consciousness, sufferng through hours of E!, too stoned to reach thr remote.
