Iris and her guide dog turned up at my door promptly at 8. Having taken her medication she was once again lucid and ready for a night out. No one seems to know where she had disappeared to yesterday, including Iris, herself. All seemed well enough so we continued with our evening escape plans.
In route to our corner to begin what we hope will become a lucrative whoring business, Iris asked if I would mind making a brief visit to the local bar. To my astonishment, Iris is quite the barfly! A few off color jokes by a blind woman and soon enough every mother's son was supplying us with free alcoholic beverages. Why, even Dubbin the dog was lapping left over beers from an ashtray someone had cleaned and placed on the floor.
All went well until the fight. I do not know what occured to set Iris off. Peanuts flew, followed by bottles, then glasses, and soon she was sprawled across a young man on the floor biting his ear! Two strapping young fellows tried to pry her off the poor lad but it was impossible. At 84 she still has quite a grip and her teeth are her own!
The police came and took Iris away in their paddy wagon.
Rodney was displeased to say the least when he arrived at the police station to bail her out. Not to mention appalled by Dubbin's drunkeness, constant hiccupping, and inability to walk straight. He went on and on about animal cruelty during the ride back to Willowbrooke. Rodney is threatening to put a stop to our outings. I do hope he'll change his mind.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
105 comments:
It's not safe for ladies to go out after dark, Maybelle. You both could have been killed!
I'm freshly medicated and I must say Miss Sassy Pants Kim, I don't think I like your tone. I may be legally blind and my tits are much droopier than yours, but even I can SEE sarcasm when I hear it! (thank you Rodney, for reading that. Though I don't know why you have your hand in your pants right now.)
I am still rather warn out from that unfortunate incident - the remedial jail time until dear Rodney, the Negro Caretaker, could bail me out was quite a sight to see. Vera Chetspottle, the fat and cranky prison matron, kept slipping on the piles of dust that kept accumulating from my shorts. She became quite cross!
And Granny Mae, dear, I thank you for the compliment, while I don't look a minute over 84, I am a centurian, thank you very much!
Things are so much CLEARER to me when I remember my Aricept!
Kim, that's most generous of you. But my dear friend Iris, and I, wouldn't dream of sharing your sleeping quarters. With our advanced age we must be especially careful about contracting any type of nasty vaginal disease.
LB, Iris and I are right as rain, dear. Your concern would be better placed toward the young man who's ear lobe is now floating about in the digestive tract of Iris Vonkornea.
Iris, we must convince Rodney to allow us out this evening. I have heard there will be a high stakes game of cards at the Silver Fox. I'm quite fond of cards.
The Aricept does wonders for you dear. Do keep it filled.
Well deary, there's little for me to do with Rodney to convince him otherwise. My hoochie mama is as arid as death valley and my lips don't quite pull over my chompers no more.
Rodney did show me something here on the magic box about dogs licking peanut butter off of whatever you put it on, then he started calling Dubbin and searching my pantry.
Maybe all he needs is a nice sandwich done up for him. As big a help as Dubbin is, I told him the dog has no thumb so he can't make the sandwich now I have no idea what happned but there is this big long hair on my jar of Jiff.
Damn you Rodney, comb your afro somewhere else... Did you have to do it over the apple pie? Did you stick your thumb in it?
I'm having the pudding for desert tonight ladies. I'm going to take to Mr. Hinkleshire about putting some sort of guard over the dessert cart. Or at least make the help where a goddamn hair net. I can't see anything but I I'm tired of picking these curly negro man hairs out of my teeth!
Iris, Rodney doesn't have an afro. Rodney has no hair at all. Not on his head at any rate. Oh dear. You don't suppose?
Call me the next time you get locked up. I always have bail money.
You old wenches never invite me to the fun!
Curly.
Negro.
Man.
Hair.
Marked for Mr. Hinkleshire.
What do you mean he has no hair on his head. I know I'm a little soft in the eye area these days, oh lordy. Well the man is always playing pocket hockey in those droopy drawers of his.
That rude dago woman, Conchetta Louise DeWappio said something about the Cream of Mushroom Soup being a little odd tasting... too much salt. I don't eat that shit so I don't know.
I love Big George Bush!
LB,
George Bush the Senior is one of dantes minions from the ninth circle of hell. He and that no good buttinski Rush Limburger personally stole my social security and I think they made my son go all homo and they made him lock me up here.
I think you are in on it. I think you are part of the conspiracy!
Oh god damn it where did my good damn dog go now.
Here dubbin, dubbin dubbin. Here dubbin, dubbin dubbin.
Oh for fucks sake, Rodney, pull your pants up.
Ruby, if you wish to come with us, you will need to be awake after eight pm.
Ethel, how nice that your hall monitor skills did not shrivel up with the rest of you.
I have meant to ask dear, have you ever wondered what Hershal is doing with all those under-pinings of yours?
Iris, I'm afraid Dubbin has stolen Fat Mary's dentures again. The entire floor is on the hunt for him. Fat Mary is in tears.
Granny Goat Teats.
Oh for pity's sake, Fat Mary blubbers at the drop of a hat.
Sounds like titty envy to me, Ethel. Maybe your Hershel will bring you a set when he brings your fresh under-pinnings.
I think I found the dentures, but they smell like Milk Bones.
Poor Fat Mary has more to worry about than being toothless, that Negress nurse with the long toe nails accidently sliced Fat Mary's jaundice and gave her the tetnus.
I think her daughter's going to sue Mr. Hinkleshire and shut down this shithole. Hooray for long negress toe nails!
I feel so neglected. Didn't you even bother to read my offer to help bail you out of jail?
Who are you again, dear? Oh dear God, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, who the hell am I again?
Have you seen my dog?
Manny, I am sorry, dear. Ethel gets my blood to boiling so that on occasion I forget things.
Thank you for your kind offer. Now that Iris has offended Rodney we may have need of it.
Iris, you simply must stop palming your medication! Find that pill and swallow it.
Girls, the new orderly has arrived. Henry told me that LB told him, that the man carries a hunting knife in his sock! LB saw it with her own eyes. We could be murdered in our own beds!
Mildred, you can not believe a word that woman says. You know this.
Maybelle, it's true. I've seen it.
I won't sleep a wink tonight. Not with that killer walking around the halls!
None of us ever gets to sleep with your saggy ass screaming every night Mildred.
Hell, between you and Iris screaming for that goddamn mutt of her's, it's like living in hell around here.
SOMEBODY IS UNDER MY BED!!
Oh Lord, what is Hershel's phone number?
I wouldn't concern yourself, Ethel. I am sure it is just a rat. I have heard they will eat your eye lids while you sleep. Good night, dear.
Maybelle, that was unkind! What if someone really is hiding under Ethel's bed?
Mildred, really! Who in their right mind would hide under Ethel's bed?
That new orderly is not in his right mind, Maybelle. He has a knife! The very kind you skin deer with. My husband, may he rest in peace, did a fair bit of hunting and he had one just like it.
A good skinning could only improve Ethel's looks, LB.
You have a cold heart, Maybelle. Make love to me.
Iris, I stole your fatchabrute dog and put the evil eye on you and your gay son. HOW DARE YOU call me a DAGO, you you stupid little KRAUTENHEIMER!
Kim dear, you needa little meat on your bony little ass. Come over later for some Sunday dinner. My daughter Annette is bringing over some mannagot and her sunday gravy... she's bringing Tony and the kids. You come too. My grandson Tony Jr. likes slutty looking girls like you.
You will have to keep using your sock, Henry. I have no interest in necrophilia.
Oh good heavens, I found my pill.
Conchetta, I may be older than dirt, blind as a bat with droopy tits but even I can SEE I owe Rodney an apology. It is not his afro, or his hair from his man parts... these little hairs all over the place fell off your hairy wop lip.
Here dubbin, dubbin! Here boy! That fat woman is NOT going to share the meatball with you!
P.S. Conchetta dear, Jolene cream works wonders. Then at least when you start shedding it won't look like pubes and you won't get the Negroes in trouble.
Mr. Hinkleshire told me this is an Equal Opportunity Shithole, stop making it harder for those poor people.
It was that stinking wilderbeast dog of Iris' that she is always honking about, under my bed. And he crapped too. Iris, you better get your hobbling old saggy ass in here and clean this up. I dialed Mr. Hinkelshire and his secretary Allegra is on her way up here now. She is not happy about leaving her soap opera either.
And you old curmudeon whores best watch it. I have figured out this internet talk box Hershel brought me and have my on internet diary.
Bitches.
Thank you for defending my honor Mr. Henry.
Granny Goat Teats best sleep with one eye open tonight.
Oh my stars, Ethel, no wonder my mother went blind in this shithole. One look at you and my eyes are just as flaming as my personality!
Sure Peter, you can't call your mother but you respond to the old bat in room 12 with barely a bat of your fairy eyelash. Dubbin needs a trip to the groomer, why don't you sashy your way over here and take care of it. He's the closest thing to a brother you will ever have!
Peter.
What an appropriate name Iris.
Oh no.
Somebody call Hershel for me, and Mr. Hinkelshire.
Oh Lord.
Oh Jesus.
This internet diary has been invaded with the filthy likes of Kim. I ventured out to read and she is a FILTHY whore. Spawn of Satan. And adulterous woman! Scarlet Crimson Red Satanous female.
Where is my rosary? Granny, you took it last to pray for your bastard nephew that had the penis drips.
GIVE IT BACK NOW!!!!!! We must pray for Kim, she is going to hell!
Concheeterer dear, what is mannagot?
Sounds like that penis drip ailment.
The mannagot is some sort of cheese filled pasta shit her fat daughter makes but I wouldn't trust it... Tony Jr. is a fagloa and I think there's more fromundah cheese in there than ricotta.
At least that's what Peter told me three years ago when he last visited me, when he was still feeling a shred of guilt about putting me here!
I love Big George Bush!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LB, maybe you are the one who needs my medication
Hey you know what? Manny rhymes with Tranny.
Iris, you know how that rhyming game of yours sets Ethel's teeth on edge.
Carry on, dear.
Oh dear Kim, such simple threats and I was praying for your crimson soul too.
You don't think I live in fear every night with these windbags under my roof? Pah!
Now, put some clothes on before you catch the death of a cold.
Peter is a strong Germanic name, it is a shame that it wound up on my son, who turned out to be so swishy.
At least I didn't name my kid after a god damn chocolate bar, ethel!
Oh bite my saggy ass Iris. You act all high and mighty about that swishy limp son of yours that won't even come SEE you.
My Hershel visits every week, starches all of my underpinnings perfectly and polishes my orthopedic shoes until they shine black like that negro you are always honking about, Mr. Rodney.
Oh dear God, more fish sticks for lunch today.
I'm calling Allegra, this must stop.
Yes, and then your dear Momma's boy goes home with Mr. Rodney and travels the Hershal Highway.
my mother is right, the real reason why I don't come to SEE her anymore is because your son keeps dropping your underpinnings on the floor and asking me to pick them up.
he's even too gay for me!
You can come and stay with me as long as you don't smell of pee.
I would love to foster you. :)
I would go anywhere with you, lovely lady.
Henry, back up and let the young woman breath. You're embarrassing yourself.
Oh oh oh, I am so out of breath.
Dearest me, oh my.
I scooted all the way down the hall on my tennis ball tipped walker to beat Mildred back to the room so I could tell you all first.
I beat that old harpy shrew at cribbage today.
I won, I won, I won!
I am going to beat all of you silly old ninnies at bingo, I tell you. Miss Smarty Pants Kim is coming in to help, from what I hear she loves to manipulate the balls.
Why Suze, what lovely underpinnings you have.
Where the hell is my rosary? We have another one that is glowing crimson red and needs Hail Mary's.
Ethel dear, I think Suzie Slutbag has your rosary around her neck, juxtaposing itself between her milky white breasts.
I don't know how all these girls here on the magic box aren't catching their death with cold, what with their naughty bits hanging out in the breeze for all to see.
Have you seen my dog? Here dubbin dubbin, dubbin! Here dubbin dubbin dubbin! Stay away from Suze and Miss Sassy Pants Kim, they're used to handling meaty bones but they are usually in some mans pants and not for you to gnaw on.
I heard they made the Negress clip off her pointy toenail since someone got the tetnus.
Rodney, where's my pill?
Suze, pay them no mind dear. They're always irritable on fish stick day.
I asked the two of you to behave yourselves today. Is this how we treat guests?
Well, her naughty bits are hanging out, Maybelle.
Can we keep her?
Mildred, for pity's sake. They are not naughty bits. They are breasts. We all have them. Look down by the floor and you'll find yours.
Jasper, no. You may not keep her. This is certainly going well.
Ethel, do put that rosary away!
Granny Goat Teats, come to my room and I'll show you what this rosary is good for, right around your wrinkled neck.
Somebody stole my fruit cup today at lunch. Now I have this hacking in the back of my throat from a fish bone and nothing to clear it out with.
Mr Hinkelshire said that he'd look into my missing fruit cup. Iris, you better keep that fruitcup of a son away from here while the investigation is going on.
Jasper's been into the viagra again.
I'm locking my door, while I am sure some of you whore's will have your's wide open. Your doors that is.
SINNERS.
Granny, you are the coolest, but you need to post something new hon.
No need to lock your door, Ethel. If he comes around, just smile and show him your tooth.
Manny, yes dear, I know. Today has been far too busy here. I do believe my room mate, Tilly, is finally dying.
Oh my. I do believe that fruit cup has given me the trots.
Well I saw Ethel shaking ex-lax over your fruit cup, Mae. That silly ninny thinks that because she is bound up and full of shit that the rest of us are too.
Ethel, I have no interest in your either of your fruit cups (Hershal or the one you claimed I stole.)
` Aaaa haaaaa haaaaa! You naughty, naughty girls!
Seequin, how lovely of you to stop by. and you are wearing clothes! Thank the Lord. I needed a break from Ethel's hail marys.
Iris, it was Ethel's fruit cup I ate.
Granny, you stole?
Mildred, since it would be unlikely that the old bitch would give me her fruit cup, yes, I stole it.
You wrinkled hussy, I knew it was you.
Wait until Mr. Hinkelshire hears this.
Ugh oh.
Oh dear heavens, you ate Hershal? You really are trying to get your grits on!
Has anyone seen my teeth?
I don't normally like old people, but you're tolerable.
Hahaha!
I like your style.
FREE ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES????
Please send me a roadmap with the place circled in red color. I would like to stop by!!
Mone,
This shithole would be much more tolerable with free alcholic beverages, but Hinkleshire doesn't allow it. Bertha McCloud's drunkard son came here hopped up on too many Black and Tans last St Patricks Day and got Henry and a few other's a little tipsy. Ruby Dean wound up losing control of her walker down the slope to the cafeteria and promptly vommited on Ethel's lap. Personally, even though it was a little blurry it was quite a sight for me to SEE.
So that stupid McCloud MICK ruined it for everyone... Hinkleshire is always muttering about insurance liability.
But apparently all the hairs found in our food is not a probblem
Iris, you have an amazing memory considering you can't SEE shit.
Seems as if Granny is hiding under her bed today, I do hope she cleans out all those stinky mothballs and skeletons she keeps under there.
It's Pizza day, better put on some extra fixodent.
Oh good heavens, someone better go check Granny Mae's room... the last time someone went into hiding like this... Issac Cohen was actually dead and drawing flies!
Remember how bad that smell was? Like rotten Matzoh. OY!
Has anyone seen my teeth?
I think your teeh ran off with my dog.
Here dubbin, dubbin dubbin! Here boy!
LB loves Big George Bush!
LB, shut the hell up before Big Barbara comes up here and kicks your ass.
I'm worried about Maybelle. I peeked in her room after lunch and there was just a lump in her bed under her bedsheet. I heard a fart, but the lump never moved.
Iris, if you would keep those gums from flapping all the time, you wouldn't be losing those teeth all the time. I'm sure your negro man caretaker Rodney agrees.
I HAVE MY OWN TEETH you stupid ninny! Gladys doesn't have teeth, and right now I don't have a dog, and I think the two may somehow be related.
Well how the hell am I supposed to keep up with all this?
Have you seen my rosary? I may need it if that lump stops farting in Granny's room.
Oh dear, I think we have a theif, my tennis balls are gone from my walker.
Iris, Ethel, Lb? Henry? is anyone out there? It's me. Maybelle. I am afraid I have gotten myself into a slight bind. Find Rodney. Tell him to call The Rusty Toad in Toronto and ask for, Nails Mcfanahan. That would be Toronto, Ohio. Not Canada.
Do hurry.
DON'T LEAVE UNTIL I FIND MY ROSARY.
Nice haircut Rodney.
OK Rodney and while we are on the road, you can tell me all about what it was like, growing up as a Negro and all. Did your mother smoke crack?
Iris, you sound like Miss Daisy.
Rodney, how DARE you suggest I'd show my underpinnings to a negro caretaker man.
TSK!
.....oh Mr Hinkelshire! Mr Hinkleshire, I think we have residents on the loose in hall one...
Rodney, do hurry. I'm about to be a shotgun bride to man who has less teeth than Ethel.
Post a Comment