Thanks for all your comments on my last post, everyone. I explained to Etain that I used the wolves metaphor as just being a cool image, in truth my daily life is a constant dog paddle, trying to keep my nose and mouth above water at least 50% of the time. The hexagonal pink pills I take for BPD (thx, Jr., didn't know it had an abbreviation as simple as, say, MS or OCD) really do nothing to stop my physical pain. So (again, referring to Jr's remark) if I were to suddenly go on a rampage, I'd be more like a bulemic zombie than a Viking berserker. The FoxNews cameras woulds be trained on me as I tripped walked right into the reporters because I can't focus out of my right eye, no depth perception. A complete MRI of my body could be made into an interactive video game. Thanks to Charles, because I even learn from what I right (though sometimes I do not listen to what I learn, if this makes sense), and it was good to hear from Stewart after a long absence. Oh, the photos. Right. As you can see, the medical facilities in Tyler, Texas are much more advance than here in Chicago, particularly for a guy with no health insurance. So while Dr. Sid has all the proper tools to give that bearded fellow a bikini wax, I'm left with fellow writer Jeff Osier winning a bet reagarding Richard Denning and John Agar an thus getting his wish to take me into an Oak Park basement and drill a hole into my skull. Fun was had by all. Except maybe Dr. Sid.
