14 February -
Valentine’s Day, what a joke. Created by greeting card companies and candy companies to prove to all of us how desperate and alone we are. They say that the suicide rate goes up around the Christmas season, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Valentine’s Day is right up there with it.
The loan refi is going swimmingly, as if any of you cared. I should be able to get back on my financial feet any day now.
I have a strange red spot on one of my thighs. I wouldn’t have noticed it at all (I try not to look down in that direction too often, lest onlookers suspect me of nefarious designs), but it feels a bit warm and itchy. I absentmindedly went to scratch it and it hurt, like when you accidentally scratch a sunburn.
This all started right around the same time that I accidentally bumped into that old panhandler outside the curiosity shoppe. Took me a while to get over the sour milk smell and the memory of rotten teeth. I still sometimes see them in my dreams. I am trying to block it out of my thoughts by spending time at United States casinos, but it’s not easy. Not even the best online casinos for USA players can make me forget something like that.
18 February -
My swelling has gone down. Finally. Thanks to all of you who have sent cards and letters. I appreciate the kindness and that you’re all out there thinking of me, but it’s really nothing. I was in and out of the hospital in no time, and I heard that the goats are doing as well as can be expected.
While I was under anesthesia, I thought I heard a heavenly choir singing one sweet phrase over and over again, but my mind couldn’t quite make it out. As much as possible under the circumstances, I strained to listen…the best that I could decipher was “USA casino players“. Does that mean anything to anyone out there?
Well, that’s about all that I can handle for today. May the good lord bless you and keep you, and remember to keep producing and consuming at a steady but moderate rate. Your pal, David.
21 February -
It seems like weeks since I last wrote to all of you, but my nurse assures me that it’s just a matter of days. I hate her. The condescending way that she speaks to me, as if I were a dog. I swear she enjoys administering the medication, even with the smell and all. Speaking of which, her sponge baths are a joke. I could clean myself better with a dead poodle soaked in dumpster juice.
Funny, I have to have a pencil in my hand even though I’m typing all of this. What does that mean? I notice that someone has been chewing on it. Gross. When I catch them…
I guess that I should be glad that I can type at all, let alone play online slots. After all, I am recovering from major surgery. I’m on so much medication that I can’t tell if there is pain or not. Just the persistent taste of wood and graphite in my mouth. And, of course, the ever-present stench.