Greetings from the Santa Monica infirmary. Where I am hopped up on Vicodin and my cat Pete is loaded on Morphine. Fun times at 1450 Franklin.
I have had a ball buster of a sore throat for a week now- so bad that I went to the doctor twice. The first time I went they took a throat culture, as it turns out I don’t have strep. But a upon a second visit it was determined that I nave not one, not two but three enormous canker sores on my left tonsil.
Terrific. Those fuckers are huge and they fucking HURT. I mean big time. Haven’t had pain like this, since, well, ever. Shit is maddening. But the doc gave me Vicodin for the pain- so in between gargling with salt water, and NOT eating very much I am getting seriously high on the vics…..
It would seem perfect timing that the week I spend in bed all doped up my cat would go and fall out a window and fracture his leg. (His left leg I might add) I think the whole thing was an attempt to get special treatment and an excuse to get wasted and lay in bed with mom- but in all fairness the screen finally gave way and he fell out of the window about 6 feet onto the concrete and fractured his bone and has been limping severely ever since.
But that’s why they made cat morphine. And human vicodin.
Another dose Pete? Yes lets.