Hello?

Hello, Crisis Hotline? My teeth look like refried hell. So many are crooked, they’re definitely no longer white and two (in the back) are broken. I can’t get this shit fixed until I’m off the extreme blood thinner meds.

What the mangle-fanged fuck!?

Hello, Crisis Hotline? I need to get more exercise and not eat so much chocolate. I still tire wicked quickly though AND the Easter bunnies at Stop&Shop keep tripping me as I roll past.

You can see my problem here, right?

Hello, Crisis Hotline? None of my bras fit right anymore.

Hello, Crisis Hotline? I’m afraid that every person I pass is harboring COVID and will inadvertently, (probably inadvertently), cough on me.

The daily new case average for Massachusetts is 1,237. Average daily deaths here? Six. I’m on the list to get a, second, booster shot but can I/should I get it before or after my protonization? Jen’s called my radiation oncologist—waiting to hear back.

Hello, Crisis Hotline? Why are most mystery novels so damn convoluted? They should come with plot and character diagrams.

Having said that, I just finished Walter Mosley’s Blood Grove and, despite my confusion, (Is Lily good or evil? She seems to be both but then, aren't we all? Was Alphonse in on the heist or is he just a pimp and pornographer? Is Feather’s uncle trustworthy?), I enjoyed it immensely.

Hello, Crisis Hotline? Why won’t Coco eat her breakfast? Does she know she’s going in for an ultrasound on Thursday? Is she uninterested in food because she knows this scary procedure is coming up?

Hello, Crisis Hotline? Why haven’t I started my tax prep or passport renewal crap yet?

Hello, Crisis Hotline? According to Michael Rampino, a geologist and professor at New York University, Earth has a heartbeat. Given our planet’s heartbeat, why aren’t Republicans passing bills to protect it?

Oh right, they’re complete and utter slime coated, greedheaded, lying-ass bags of hypocritical on-the-take weasel puke. Nevermind.

Hello, Crisis Hotline? I remember when every year felt like a whole entire lifetime. Each was more or less distinct—like chapters in a book. Now they all run into each other like some complicated dish. When did my life become a mole poblano, spanakopita, mashed potato, gaeng tai pla casserole?

Can I have a palate cleansing story break, please? How about an intermission?

Hello, Crisis Hotline? Why am I still reading the news? My wish to maintain sanity and safe, reasonable blood pressure levels continue to war with my desire to stay well informed.

Hello, Crisis Hotline? I’d like my hearing back now. I miss music.