meximick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- letter to dennis and belen Note: I just right now sent this email to my brother Dennis and his wife Belen. They share an email account. I love them both more than a cold beer on a hot Christmas morning. Dennis just got a new job. He's a mothafuckin' pimp, if I'm not mistaken. Oh, me? Read the following, and ye shall recognize the symptoms of mental retardation... For Belen: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hello my darling sister-in-law! Actually you're more like the big sister I never had, though Dennis did dress the part during those "confused" years (but don't let him fool you - he wasn't as confused as he says he was- keep an eye on your dresses!). Hope those rotten (oops- I meant wonderful!) students of yours respect and learn well from you. I don't see how they can't with such a sparkling personality in the front of the room each day! love, Little Brother Patrick ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ For Dennis: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Hey filthneck, where the fuck you at, yo? Next time I see you, I'm going to smash you within an inch of your life, that's how much i'm not a fan of yours now. You sicken me. Why'd you change? Where's the love, you heartless bastard? I knew it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart... (That quote from The Godfather II - you still haven't seen it. Have you? I said HAVE YOU?) So, Mr. Dennis "Fancypants" [Franz] got himself another fancypants position at University Fancypants Medical Center. I suppose congratulations are in order.... but I will reserve mine until I'm good and ready.... congratulations! I've never been so proud of you, except for that time you killed that smartass cop when he pulled us ov-- oops... I suppose I've said too much already... I really enjoy using the 3 period ending for sentences----> (...) <----that way. Good work, mein froind! Des Amerikinen es swine! Ja! So I went to the doctor's the other day, except I'm not sure he was a real MD. I don't know. Something about the way he'd thumb the stitched-together straps of his dirty overalls... But he informed me that I may have to expect a life of back pain, and I said, "Well, fine." And he said, "That's fine with me too." So I said, "Well, I'm glad it's fine with you." And then he mainlined a big needle of Atavan into his neck. He prescribed me some diclofenac (75mg). I saw what he was writing, and I said, "Whoa, whoa, you quack. Who the fuck are you trying to kid here? Give me the GOOD shit. I didn't come here for you to write me a script for St. Joseph's chewable asprin." And he said, "This medicine should provide you with adequate relie-" And [CRACK]! I quickly shut him up with the back of my hand. That fool saw stars, he did. So he prescribed me, oh poop, what's it called?... Oh yeah, it's called strychnine (200 mg). Have you heard of it? He told me it would take care of all my problems. What are the side effects? I didn't get a chance to fill the prescription until just now. Pain relief, here I come! And he also prescribed Soma because of the horrible back spasms that oddly enough I never complained about because I don't get them. But who am I to complain about free pills that I can sell to kids at raves or auction off on EBay? I go for a CT scan on the 31st. I also have an appointment for another doctor at a hospital-like place on Monday so I can get an ekg because I have one of those weird heart thingies... um... what did the doctor call it? Oh yeah, an enormous burst aortic anurysm. I'm kidding. If you can't laugh at a traumatic and usually fatal cardiac condition, I mean, what can you laugh at? Kidding again. But I felt my heart do a weird progressive house music dance move, so, doctor time. It's not as bad as it sounds. I feel fine. But my heart, it's like, real important to me, and I'm, well, interested in making it, like work real good. I have no secondary symptoms to report at all, doctor, FYI. Did you know that abnormal heartbeats are the #1 reason for doctor visits? It's true. I need to lose weight, though. Or liposuction (Christmas is coming up! Maybe Santa will slip a $6500 gift certificate to Dr. Vacusuck under the tree for good little me). I know. work out and stop eating shit. I heard you! Ok, I'll stop abusing heroin. OK, I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME! Jeez... Read this and call me. I love you, meximick 20:30:19 - 2000-10-20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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