Another story about me. on drugs.

Category: dribblings

The other night Mr. Fleegan and I moved some furniture around and did some deep spring cleaning. When I went to bed my back was all, “And just what in Hell were you thinking?! Don’t you remember how bad I hurt two weeks ago? And you pull this kinda thing? DUMBASS.” My back is kind of verbally abusive.

So I got up and took some of the left over pain medicine I had from two weeks ago. Then I went to sleep.

A couple of hours later I woke up from a nightmare. I was scared and so I turned on the TV to watch some cartoons. But I was kind of out of it too, you know? Well the channel wasn’t cartoons it was MLB Network. So I was all that’s fine let’s see what we’re watching. But it was commercials, and it was for some kind of workout machine. Maybe for sit-ups? But then my drugged brain started to trick me and it turned the excersice machine into a machine that would make you do a pitcher’s wind-up. And that was the exercise. And you could program in different pitchers like Luis Tiant, Bob Feller, Juan Marichal, Fernando Valenzuela. Worse exercise machine ever.

So then in my brain I’m all, “Wait, this isn’t real. This is not a real commercial. You are hallucinating! Oh God! You’re not safe! Don’t move!” and I panicked. And then I thought, “This is why you don’t do drugs. You’re not one of the Fun Ones. You’re one of the panicky, paranoid ones that ruins everyone else’s buzz.”

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