Puke Of Hurl
Puke, Puke, Puke of Hurl
Puke, Puke, Puke of Hurl
Puke, Puke, Puke of Hurl
Puke, Puke, Puke of Hurl
As I walk through this world
Nothing can stop the Puke of Hurl
And you, the trap you unfurled
And you can so hurt me, oh yes
TWO DAYS EARLIER
I love leftovers. There I was at the fast food restaurant picking up dinner when I had my aha moment. I’ll get extra deep fried things on purpose so I’ll have enough for leftovers in the future.
Eureka.
It would be something, a small thing, that I was actually looking forward to.
Meanwhile, deep in the Pacific Ocean, somewhere over the Great Pacific garbage patch, ominous dark swirling clouds began to form.
PRESENT DAY
It was almost lunch time. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was in a good mood. I was on the way to the kitchen to prep my lunch. The lunch I had been looking forward to for two whole days. There was a bounce in my step as I walked down the hall. I hummed a little song to myself. I paused in the living room and played a game of peek-a-boo with the cat.
In less than five minutes I would be dead.
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What Screams May Come
Here comes the pill choo choo. Chug-a-chug-a. Whoo whoo!
Fool me once? Shame on you.
Fool me twice? Shame on me.
Fool me thrice? Satan’s tongue is licking my brain.
What? Don’t worry. I’m past the point of making sense.
I’d like to meet the person who came up with the 4-hour schedule for taking meds. (That’s the medical word for pills.) I’ll bet the sadistic bastard was a doctor. Yeah. It had to be a doctor.
8 o’clock. 12 o’clock. 4 o’clock. Rinse. Repeat.
It’s only six little (well, actually giant) pills every 24 hours. That doesn’t sound so bad.
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The Camping Incident
When we last left our intrepid explorer, he was lugging an amazing distance all of the potable water to camp for four days and three nights. (See post Let’s Go Camping.) We now resume with events leading up to The Incident.
When I camp I go all animal and surprise those who know me. Those who think I’ll somehow wither in the great outdoors. I get all the water, gather wood, and start fires.
True, on that first night, I was extremely careful about where I went pee. I scouted out secluded locations and carefully checked for anyone who might be in the vicinity. (We were camped right by the trail that runs along the creek.) By the next day, however, the animal had kicked in and I went whenever and wherever the urge hit. I’d wave at people as they walked by. Continue reading →
Shouts from the Abyss 
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