( 10:55 PM )
Folded into a perfect origami bird, the following letter was discovered on the distinguished steps of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
Hey guess what? I’m eating for two now! It finally happened-- not only has a footlong tapeworm rooted itself in my intestines, but my doctor says that from the waist down, I have the worst brazilian wax job he’s ever seen. My infected ingrown hairs on my puddy tat itch like mad hellfire, and my skin looks like a pineapple rind. Not to memtion that during an unusually lengthy body cavity search at the Canadian border, guards thought I was trying to smuggle illegal fruit. In the holding cell, I was thinking-- if a piglet is a baby pig, and booklet could be described as a baby book, then what’s a pamphlet? A baby pamph?
Pondering pamphleteer perfunctoriness,
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“Beers to You” Ray Charles and Clint Eastwood 1980
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( 11:36 PM )
“Ride to Live, Live to Ride” ~ Famous biker saying
“Right to Live, Live to Right” ~ New political agenda
I don’t know Terri Schiavo or her family, but thanks to the nonstop news this past week, the story of her vegetative state and removal of her feeding tube is everywhere. I’m sympathetic to this very difficult situation; it’s been tragic for both Terri’s parents and especially her husband Michael.
But, it’s been fifteen agonizing years already.
It costs tens of thousands of dollars a month to keep Terri barley alive, and NPR reported today that one of the programs that helps pay Terri’s huge medical bills is due to be cut by President Bush. How ironic since Bush signed a bill today that may lead to re-insertion of her feeding tube again for a fourth time.
I understand she isn’t able to communicate in any way. Her brain is damaged beyond repair. She’ll never go to the bathroom alone ever again, she’ll never eat regular food by herself, hold a baby, walk a dog, or even plant a garden. Her quality of life is abysmal and she isn’t going to get any better. I’ve also heard that the video of Terri shown on TV is believed to be several years old. Which means she looks even worse.
Now while I believe it’s time, I’m not going to defend the process in which she’ll slowly starve to death. Where’s Kevorkian when you need him? Cripes, we treat horses and dogs with more decency and respect than we do humans sometimes.
It’s time for Michael Shiavo to get on with his life. What’s left of it anyway. For fifteen long years, his personal tragedy has played out in state and federal courts, and now Congress and the President are involved. If dealing with meddling in-laws of a brain dead wife for fifteen years wasn’t enough, now the whole freaking country has something to say about it. Like me on this blog.
Tom Delay and every Republican should be ashamed of themselves. Delay, for taking up this cause only to deflect his purported unethical wrongdoings, and everyone else too, because this situation has nothing to do with them. None of them know the Schiavo’s personally, nor really care about them-- this is merely a smokescreen that replaces the Iraq mess, a failing Social Security agenda, and the ugly rise of gas prices (among other things). Even Steroids in Baseball is getting lost in March Madness and Easter Fever. Plus, all eyes are on the Pope’s failing health. I wonder if the Pope wants to die naturally or be hooked up to machines and feeding tubes indefinitely?
The most ridiculous part about this awful story are the wackos that have set up camp outside Terri’s hospice holding handmade signs like “Give Terri back to her parents.” Those people need to get a life of their own before they decide the fate of someone else’s.
Song of the Day:
“Suffering” Satchel 1994
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( 9:50 PM )
The following letter was found neatly folded on the steps of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
This is driving me crazy—what’s the name of that bike race that tours through France? I swear it’s called the “Ides of March Shamrock Bike-a-Thon for Lance’s Kids.” Ever since my colon fell out during that failed orange juice & Burpo’s baked beans diet experiment, I just can’t eat on an empty stomach anymore. Hey sexy, I was watching you sleep again last night, and damn girl--your snot bubble production rate is off the charts! I don't know, maybe it's beacuse I posted a video of you on the web, but the people at Guinness World Records think you own every snot bubble category ever created. I'm so psyched for you!
Your Klaus is all Meine,
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“Lug” Fu Manchu 1995
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( 11:18 PM )
The following letter was found on the grounds of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
I’m not positive, but I’m sure I failed my negativity test. Whew, I’m sweating like a pig in all this saran wrap! Damn, I’ve been really gassy too. Anyway, I’m going to lose ten pounds, count to ten, then go and look for it. Hey when you said I was on fire last night on the dance floor I didn’t think you meant literally. Did you know that balls of masking tape are a good source of riboflavin? That’s what the construction paper told me after Elmer’s caught me running with scissors in the hallway.
Into time, beg me your time,
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“Walkin’ The Dog” Aerosmith 1971
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