Madness from my Mom...
Feb. 25th, 2003 10:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cabbitzillaLet's see if I understand how the world works lately...
If a man cuts his finger off while slicing salami at work, he blames the restaurant.
If you smoke three packs a day for 40 years and die of lung cancer, your family blames the tobacco company.
If your neighbor crashes into a tree while driving home drunk, he blames the bartender.
If your grandchildren are brats without manners, you blame television.
If your friend is shot by a deranged madman, you blame the gun manufacturer.
And if a crazed person breaks into the cockpit and tries to kill the pilot at 35,000 feet, and the passengers kill him instead, the mother of the deceased blames the airline.
I must have lived too long to understand the world as it is anymore. So, if I die while my old, wrinkled butt is parked in front of this computer, I want you to blame Bill Gates...okay?
As a footnote to this, yes, I smoke. My close friends know I smoke. I smoke knowing that it will cause cancer, and has killed others with that selfsame cancer. But honestly, with everything else that's wrong, I think I'm entitled to one vice. I'm not going to sue R.J.Reynolds; they don't make me smoke. I smoke because I like it. Period.
If I were to switch to eating, the obesity would kill me much faster... and cause more expense when a piano crate needed to be secured to bury me -in-. I'll stick to smoking.
Yah, I'm doing a bit better. After trebling all the other meds and adding in the Feldene (long story behind that one), I'm at least not buried under six blankets, freezing to death from cold sweats, and ranting at hallucinated hecklers. I've just got to hold till the Doc's office can fax a 'script to the store, or (at latest) Friday for my appointment. To quote Dr Hans Zarkov: "For God's sake, strap yourselves down!"... it's going to be bumpy...
*tattered hugs*
~Ellie-chan
If a man cuts his finger off while slicing salami at work, he blames the restaurant.
If you smoke three packs a day for 40 years and die of lung cancer, your family blames the tobacco company.
If your neighbor crashes into a tree while driving home drunk, he blames the bartender.
If your grandchildren are brats without manners, you blame television.
If your friend is shot by a deranged madman, you blame the gun manufacturer.
And if a crazed person breaks into the cockpit and tries to kill the pilot at 35,000 feet, and the passengers kill him instead, the mother of the deceased blames the airline.
I must have lived too long to understand the world as it is anymore. So, if I die while my old, wrinkled butt is parked in front of this computer, I want you to blame Bill Gates...okay?
As a footnote to this, yes, I smoke. My close friends know I smoke. I smoke knowing that it will cause cancer, and has killed others with that selfsame cancer. But honestly, with everything else that's wrong, I think I'm entitled to one vice. I'm not going to sue R.J.Reynolds; they don't make me smoke. I smoke because I like it. Period.
If I were to switch to eating, the obesity would kill me much faster... and cause more expense when a piano crate needed to be secured to bury me -in-. I'll stick to smoking.
Yah, I'm doing a bit better. After trebling all the other meds and adding in the Feldene (long story behind that one), I'm at least not buried under six blankets, freezing to death from cold sweats, and ranting at hallucinated hecklers. I've just got to hold till the Doc's office can fax a 'script to the store, or (at latest) Friday for my appointment. To quote Dr Hans Zarkov: "For God's sake, strap yourselves down!"... it's going to be bumpy...
*tattered hugs*
~Ellie-chan
