Except for the Cymbalta

May 25, 2012

Sunny Afternoons In My Basement

Buying lottery tickets. That’s optimism. For the 21st century. I can smell. Ovaries frying. And I know that somewhere in this house. A pipe is waiting. To burst. And what’s worse. Something is eating a hole. In my head.

My wife is in the kitchen. Cutting vegetables. The children are out there. In the world. And my friend told me. That he spends his retirement. Laying around the house. Masturbating. I almost split a gut.

There are too many names in my head. PINS. Like a cushion. I should be terrified. Except for the Cymbalta. And a friend. In the Nut House told me. That insanity is not all that its cracked up to be.

One Response to “Except for the Cymbalta”

  1. That was an excellent post. Thanks for sharing it. I really enjoyed it very much.

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