Some things never change.

Good Heavens! Crazy Charles has strapped another rocket to the back of his wheel chair. Where on earth does he find them?

The last time he did this he lit the thing and shot upward through the entire 4th floor and half of the 5th! Does no one on the staff watch this man? Yet Iris and I continue to be under house arrest for a few well placed rodents?

Well, I hope this time he flies right through the nurses station and Mr. Hinkleshire's fancy paneled office.

I am most excited!

Iris and I slipped out again last night for a much needed repast. While we were out and about we had the most delicious idea! So we found a pet shop and bought an entire box of white mice. Early this morn, we slipped into Ethel's room as she slept and slipped the box of rodents beneath her bed. Iris estimates it will only take an hour or so for them to chew through the carrying container and spill out into Ethel's room.

We are eagerly awaiting her screams. Oh this is such fun!

On a darker note, after leaving the package in Ethel's room we slipped in quietly to finger's bedside. As she lay there snoring like a jackhammer, we tossed her bedside table. That is detective phrasing meaning we searched it. And to my horror we found a photo of a man. Not just any man. But the hairy knuckled gentleman I serviced. My only John. I do not know what this means but I am afraid it can't be good.

The six fingered gypsy.

Reprehensible!

I am unsettled to say the least. All my prayers for the demise of Tilly the bed shitter have obviously earned me ill-favor in the eyes of the Lord. I most heartily believe, the punishment he has chosen to meat out, far out-weighs the crime! A six-fingered gypsy has nestled her gnarled ass-cheeks in the bed next to mine.

The woman was sent straight from the fire pits of hell! She is a most homely beast and rarely does she speak anything that makes sense! Just when I thought the situation could not be worse she unpacked the most hideous assortment of belongings viewed by the human eye, since Ethel was caught walking in her sleep naked down the 12th floor hallway.

The crone possesses shrunken heads in jars! A variety of hair clippings, bags of toenails, and a garlic necklace that she keeps hanging over her bed.

How much must I endure? I have requested a new room. Thanks to Ethel's incessant tattling, Mr. Hinkleshire has flat refused to co-operate saying I have a beligerant nature and do not play well with others? Is this a playground then?

This can not stand. I will not abide sharing my room with a six-fingered, gypsy witch! It is intolerable. The woman reeks of body odor and garlic. I simply won't have it. Action will be taken, mark my word!

Finally!

Well, it's finally happened. Tilly the shitter, died last evening. Choked on her jello. The jello appears to be somewhat of a mystery since Tilly was only able to eat intraveniously. It appears that someone spooned the jelled desert into that gaping wound of a mouth until finally, she choked to death.

My joy at Tilly's demise was short lived. They wasted no time in bringing in a new room mate for me. I hadn't thought it possible for another human being to be more foul than Tilly, the shitter. I was wrong.

I had pulled the drape closed around my bed to grant myself some privacy. This, harpy, had the nerve to try and open my privacy curtain. All I have seen of her, is her hand. And that was quite enough! She takes residence tomorrow in the am. Needless to say, I am most distressed!

Iris was arrested!

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.

I have been accused of attempted murder!

The skinny bitch down the hall from my room has filed a formal complaint against me. She's told the staff and anyone else who will listen that I tried to kill her!

I do regret what took place but I assure you, had I wanted her dead, I would not have botched the job. She sustained minimal damage. A small lump upon her head. If she had returned my laptop as I asked, nothing would have occured. She refused to give it back when I went in to retrieve it. Can you imagine? We argued. I attempted to pull the laptop from her gnarled grasp and she would not release it! So I hit her over the head with my handbag. It's as simple as that.

In any case, I have regained possession of my computer. And I'll not be loaning it out again.

My first "John".

Whoring is not as easy as I thought it might be. Last night I moved to a corner further down the road where there would be fewer holes to compete with.

Business wasn't exactly booming on my corner but I did land a fish at the end of the night. He had bodily hair much like that of an ape. I was shocked to see a thick pelt sprouting from his knuckles! No wonder the poor man has to pay for sexual favors. No right thinking woman would bed him.

As luck would have it my John could only afford oral sex. It was a terrible business. I nearly developed lock jaw before he achieved his final success. Once done, I literally said a prayer of thanks.

I do hope this job improves soon. I was hoping to spend more time on my back and less on my knees. Thank the Lord I thought to take a towel. It's the only thing that saved my knee caps.

Whoring.

Whoring is far more competitive than I thought it would be. There are 3 other ladies on my corner. They all move faster than I. Last evening a negro woman, thin as a twig, informed me that they no longer refer to themselves as whores. They are called, "holes" or "working women". I suppose I will have to edit my profile to say, "apprentice hole".

The negro woman chattered constantly. I found it annoying. I believe she had a terrible head cold. She sniffed all night. I hope I do not catch it.

When I arrived back at the home I was greeted by the ripe aroma of Tilly's soiled diaper. They've been giving her plums again. Her bowels smell like fruit and decomposed bodies. She nearly died around 6 this morning but the hateful staff brought in their paddles and electronic gizmos and brought her back. Now she has soiled her diaper again. I don't understand why they don't let the old bitch die and be done with it.

Hi asswipe!

Granny here, ready to roll up your ass! My goodness, this feels marvelous.

My name is Granny mae and I live in a fucked up retirement home. They feed us slop and my room mate wears diapers. My day life was shit until my friend Rodney, a nurses aid on the night shift and a fine black stud of a man, gave me this laptop.

My night life swings. I am learning to be a whore. With removeable teeth and these tits, I should make enough to blow this pop stand in a couple of months.