Having taken another Loritab but tired of lying in bed, I am sitting and staring at the screen. The pain in my gut from the operation is not very sharp...sort of a distant ache. But my mind also seems to be not very shart and a kind of distant...something. Phooey. I think that if it weren't for the pain medication, I would have been able to come up with something cute there...not sharp...distant ache...dull thoughts...
BAGMAN: "You gonna write something or what?!"
BUTLER: "Go back and lie down, Mark."
I think that I am going to probably miss another Friday shoot out. I think...I'm thinking something, I think. Just not sure what.
BUTLER: "At least make a brief statement about what's going on."
My tongue always gets tied with the word 'umbilical." I want to say 'ulumbilical'. Like the poor souls in A.A. meetings who have trouble with 'anonimity' and want to say 'amononimity." Hey that kind of has a nice beat to it -- Ul-um-bil-ical Am-anon-imity....
BUTLER: "Go back to bed, Mark. Yesterday you had a brief small outpatient procedure to fix an umbilical hernia and you're probably still a little loopy."
"Brief small procedure!" I scream, starting to stand up and then thinking better of it. "They cut a hole in my belly and shoved my small intestine back where it belonged and installed a screen door!"
BUTLER: "It's called a mesh."
I am getting sleepy.