Smokin Sally.

There's a new tenant at Willowbrooke. She calls herself, Smoking Sally. Sally refuses to wear her unmentionables, or anything else for that matter. The orderlies can do absolutely nothing with her. If they try to force the woman to clothe herself she does the most foul things.

Iris told me that Sally relieved her bowls right there on the floor when Rodney tried to force a bathrobe over her person.

She can be quite crusty and I fear, Iris has grown instantly fond of her. This could become a problem later on with Iris being a bit wild herself.



To make matters more frightful, this afternoon Iris took an official vote asking how many of our residents would like to, in her words, "break out and get a tat."

I'm not a fan of needles myself. Yet the rebellious side of my person finds the idea quite tempting. One must wonder how Mr. Hinkleshire would react were we all to sit around in our birthday suits wearing nothing but ink. It would certainly have to be more interesting than bingo.

IRIS IS GETTING SOMETHING SPECIAL

We all pitched in and bought Henry his very own g-string. So he could dance today for Iris. It's her birthday! Happy birthday, dear.
Do be careful with Henry tonight. He has the brittle bone, you know.

Willowbrooke is haunted.

I am ashamed to say I rudely admonished poor Mildred the first time she came to me in a panic saying she'd seen a ghost wandering the halls of the 4th floor. The idea as you might imagine was absurd!

Last night I saw this apparition myself. There is no question. Willowbrooke is haunted!

Iris and myself shall get to the bottom of this the very moment she finishes washing the chocolate pudding out of her hair. She's been fighting with Ethel again. I must say I was surprised at Ethel's strength. Not as surprised as Iris who found herself face down in Henry's lunch this afternoon with Ethel's cane dangerously close to her anus.

Injustice at Willowbrooke Reigns

We, the residents at Willowbrooke are suffering an abuse of power!

Recently we lost the use of our computers again due to an unfortunate incident which had nothing at all to do with the internet.

It all began at the yearly Christmas party when Shirley gave Iris's son Peter, who recently decided to become a woman, a nut cracker and a battery operated dildo (with attachments) for Christmas.

Naturally Iris, being Iris, became quite angry. A brawl insued. Iris can be quite powerful when she's angry. Shirley's badly stained under pinings were pulled up through the back of her slacks with such force, they snapped free, rocketed across the room, and landed on Mr. Hinkleshire's shoulder. Mr. Hinkleshire was livid.

Consequently as a result of that one mishap all residents were confined to their own floors and their computers taken from them. We only got them back yesterday.

We, the residents of Willowbrooke are asking for help from the blogging community. Please sign our petition below and aid us in putting a halt to the cruel injustice we have endured under this man's rule.



To whom it may concern:
We, bloggers from all around the world, find the restrictions placed upon the innocent citizens of Willowbrooke Nursing Home to be a most heinous abuse of power. We insist this unjust treatment stop immediately or we shall take this story world wide. These kind and gentle souls must be allowed to communicate with the outside world via their computers!

Shirley is at it again.

Well, Shirley has a new beau. The smell of channel number 13 has already taken out two of our residents. They'll be under the oxygen tent for a day or two at least. The rest of us are wearing nose plugs. The woman has no shame. She laying there, legs open to world like she's about to give birth. Iris finally closed her door, thank the good Lord.

Deck the Balls

We've been grounded like school children. Our toys taken away. Our rights stomped on. We'll have no more of it.

By way of protest Iris, Ethel, and myself have begun decorating the halls of Willowbrooke.

The following song has been set to play along with this lovely adornment.


Deck the balls with nose hairs and polygrip
fa la la....la la..... la ...la....la...la

Bite our ass
cause we aren't dead yet.
fa la la.....la la.....la la la la

you can't ground us, we're your elders
FA LA LA...LA LA LA...LA LA LA

We all took a dose of ex lax
hope you enjoy the next few hourrrrrrrrrrs.

WE HAVE BEEN BANNED FOREVER!

This is most unfortunate! I offer sincere apologies to Mildred, poor thing.

It has long been a dream for Mildred to become a member in good standing of the Red Hat Ladies. To this end she has written several letters and made numerous phone calls. At long last the snubby pisspots consented. Mildred's error in my opinion, was including myself, Iris, Ethel, and heaven help us, Snivel.

When the box of hats themselves arrived Mildred was beside herself. She wore the obnoxious thing everywhere she went. Iris and I found our bonnets to be quite itchy and cumbersome.

I digress.

The first meeting was to be held at a chinese buffet. The moment Iris heard this she immediately set her own plan in place. I confess, I did play a part in it but, it was a joke!
In short, I drugged Ethel's cat. Iris loaded the nasty thing into her handbag and off we went. The deed itself required Iris and I to visit the bar for a healthy dose of liquid courage. Once we'd had our fill of bravery juice we slipped the cat onto the buffet table.

It would seem neither the Red Hat Ladies nor the owners of the Chinese Buffet possess a sense of humor. I can't help but wonder if things might have gone better had Ethel not fainted and fallen face first into the mu shu pork.

We have been banned from both the Red Hat Ladies and the Chinese Buffet. Worst of all, the snobbish prats in the Red Hat club snatched Mildred's beloved hat from her noggin, tossed it on the floor and STOMPED ON IT! It's crushed beyond recognition. Iris tried to ment it but to no avail.

Mildred is in a state of grave depression.

Ethel's cat appears to have had a bad reaction to the valium. When she woke up she began walking sideways, crab-like. And two days later continues to do so.

Something about a side-stepping feline appeals to Snivel, who now wishes to purchase Ethel's cat offering various potions and trinkets. For the past 2 days the gypsy has followed Ethel about asking, "How much for the cat?"

Ethel as you might imagine is on the warpath.