Thursday, January 12, 2006
Out Of The Mouths Of Maniacs
"The Bhudda has sharp teeth," he says.
"Why?" I ask.
"For eating people. It's true."
Anyone but Abe, talk like that would be ascribed to feverish delusions. In this case, it is feverish delusions. A day later the lymph nodes on the sides of his neck are the size of golf balls. Two kinds of mononucleosis at once, which translates to listlessness, whining, baths at 1 AM to bring down fevers (check those cheeks on the Cat--that's not embarassment) and another week goes by without posting. The Cat is feeling a bit better now, but on doctor's orders he's stuck in first for at least a month while his spleen gets back into fighting trim. No cake in the tub, no balancing on a ball on one foot. He's free to say all the demented shit he wants, though. And he will.
# posted by Cole Moore Odell @ 1/12/2006 
