Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Meanwhile, at the sports bar of the near dead


I think Don picked up his illness from the nursing unit where Fran resides, where, just last week, the whole shebang was under quarantine conditions because of raging bug that hopped from one greatest generationer to the next.

These fairly well-off elderly sit in the afternoons in wheelchairs watching Ellen on the big screens in the hallways, before being toted in for supper. I need to remember to have my camera on my phone ready at all times, because I could have won a Pulitzer had I taken a shot I saw Monday. Eudora Welty's shrunken sister asleep in front of the sound-turned-down-but-cc-enabled TV as something called Lady Antebellum (what a name! Why not "we miss having slaves bad band.com"?) played and had its lyrics beaming (this is what was on the screen):



rust red minivan, she's got chocolate on her face, got little hands and she
waves...

Firstly, "has little hands," asshole.


Second, I get so tired.

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