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This is your grundoon. This is your grundoon ON DRUGS. I'm on a steroid to prevent any swelling in my brain pan from the gamma knife surgery. Steroids tend to make me slightly wired. Slightly.




Many bothans have died to bring you this information.



1) Alphabetize your CD collection. (2:30 am)

2) Paint your toe shoes with cobalt blue watercolors. (1:30 am)

3) Fold laundry load dishwasher forget what you were doing fold more laundry leave in pile on end of bed so it gets kicked and unfolded. Never put away.

4) Give wertperch all your credit cards and checkbook, so you do not spend money, because you are effectively hypomanic, and you need the money to close on the house.

5) Do not spend money. I tell you three times.

6) Start and ENORMOUS oil painting of yourself from the first cleavage calendar. Get scared of creepy blue-green eyeballs in self portrait.

7) DO NOT SPEND MORE MONEY.

8) Find Pogo books at comic book store, and ask wertperch to please please PLEASE let you buy them. Gloat to pogophile friend. Consider selling all Heinlein pulps on Ebay. Wish for a copy of grampa's comics, which would solve all the loan complications.

9) Read the paperwork for the house. Realize favorite clause is the warning that living in a development with a golf course on the north end (Yeah, are we yuppie, or what?) is the warning about ERRANT GOLF BALLS all caps, in bold. HOW DUMB WOULD YOU HAVE TO BE NOT TO KNOW THIS?

10) Drink heavily. Booze offsets the effects of the steroids. Ask doctor(s) if there's a problem with drinking gingerale and vodka, with candied ginger, starting at, oh, 10:30 in the morning. Docs say, for three weeks, if you are controlling the hypomania, then yes, just don't take benzos at the same time. Consider this is good advice. Celebrate by DRINKING. Thank you, Jethro Bodine. Toss me a PBR.

11) Sort more CDs. Fold clothes. Consider alphabetizing the books. Try to resist. Start cleaning up the backyard, find an old pot full of glorious orange Oregon dirt. Dye everything white in the house orange with Oregon iron oxide. Find that wertperch still wants to kill you, even though you've dyed his boring white tee shirts.

12) Alphabetize the books, and start boxing up the ones you don't want. Anyone want any books? If you pay the shipping, I send to you.

13) Cook strange things at midnight. Have stomachache the next day. Drink all the booze in the house, which isn't much, except for wertperch's exotic beer stash.

14) Take hydrocodone on an empty stomach. Hurl. Eat cheerios. Hurl. Visit new house, and christen it by hurling in the master bath. Consider peeing on the corners, it would show about the same amount of class.

15) Try not to kill wertperch, or cause wertperch to kill you.

16) Try to resist the temptation to chase bad drivers down the street, and go generally postal. Go to the grocery store with cancer survivor across the street (GliomaGirl), using stroller to haul booze. Don't take babies. Realize that both of you have the attention span of a gnat, and cannot have anything remotely resembling a normal conversation. Have fun anyway. Notice the tellers looking extremely disturbed about the six large bottles of booze that you are putting where the baby's butt would be. Get the giggles. talk loudly about cancer survival, complete with head wounds. Realize that we probably do not project the image of responsible moms. Make garbled fuckfuck noises. Drink, not so heavily, upon returning home.

17) Spend many, many minutes on phones with LARGE BUREAUCRACIES, medical, and bankinal. Try to decide which to hate the most.

18) 3:00 am - surf furniture stores. Do not steal credit cards back from wertperch. Consider freezing cash card into a block of ice.

19) Look for cocktail dresses actually named after cocktails. DO NOT BUY THE COCKTAIL DRESSES. Realize menfolk of family look better in cocktail dresses than grundoon does, and have found cooler dresses. Wonder if menfolk are all really gay. Think it unlikely.

20) Shop for large caliber handguns and chainsaws.

21) Write really complicated emotional stuff, and decide NOT to post all of it. Lose battle. Post it anyway. Cry all day, and have nightmares. Take extra-strong sleeping medication, and still sleep for only four hours.

23) Search for cobalt blue suede boots and chaps for GammaGirl superhero costume. Find them in England, on Ebay. DO NOT BUY THE CHAPS. Decide to wait until AFTER the house closes. Wear gammagirl wig and tiara to POOlates class.

23) Dance ballet class, on pointe, for 2-1/2 hours. Still get so wired that you consider going to the ER for help, after talking to all medical offices for more than 20 minutes, and still not getting answers. Try not to kill wertperch. Go out for a beer, drink mai tais, and find out it's salsa night at the Grad. Call the ballet dancer who might be available. Go and salsa for two more hours. Get happy. Dance with sweaty boys, and do the ballet/hiphop/salsa with Maia. Consider the merits running away to Morocco to become exotic dancers. Drink more mai tais. Find out that next day thighs will hurt, a LOT, and it's still worth it, because you haven't gone postal. Rinse, lather, and repeat. Do not fold, spindle or mutilate.


Jet-Poop says I just worry that I'll be awakened in the wee hours someday by frantic hammering on my door. I'll open the door, and you'll be standing there, hollering "ALPHABETIZE YOUR BOOKS, SIR?" "Wh-What?" I'll say, "But it's 3 a.m." Then you'll hit me repeatedly with a tractor. When I finally wake up, all my books will be glued to my ceiling in seemingly random order -- until I realize that they've all been alphabetized in order of the third letter of the title. And that they're not glued there -- they've been stuck there with pure, perfect logic. You'll mysteriously vanish after that -- only to return someday piloting a giant spaceship you built yourself. "ALPHABETIZE YOUR ATOMS, EARTH?" you'll shout, just before disintegrating all of us... ;)

----that is all----

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