April 20, 2007

People? Have you tried McDonald's new Southwest Salad? With the crispy chicken?

I think I might have a new food to get every day until I get tired of it.

I don't know what the sauce is on the chicken and I'm sure it's not lowfat because it was awfully tasty. It did make it so I didn't have to use any of the Paul Newman southwest dressing that came on the side.

It's very filling.

Let's talk about Poop now, shall we? Poop and thhe woman at the end of my Food For Folks route, who's so arthritic she shouldn't be living alone. But she does. And sometimes she poops all over herself.

Oh. You weren't eating, were you? Bummer. I'd tell you to go and read Robyn instead (hi Robyn!) but she's talking about her period for the second entry in a row. So you might as well stay here and hang with the Poop Talk.

Anyway, she has a "gal" (that's what she calls her) who comes in once a week to tidy up, give her a bath, wash her hair and get things taken care of that need to be taken care of (putting batteries in the remote control, lightbulbs in lamps, opening her carton of cigarettes, depooping the rugs, etc.) Seriously, this woman is so disabled with her arthritis that it's really not right that she's living alone. But she does. She smokes like a chimney, too. The cloud that comes from her apartment is amazing! And her apartment is dingy and stinky and hooboy, sometimes I can't even see her through the cloud of cigarette smoke. Okay. That last part was a lie. I can see her. She's almost always in the same place. On her couch, under the cloud of smoke. I don't have a clue how she lights her cigarettes. It must be awfully painful and muster all her strength to do it. But, she's going to smoke because hell, she can't even open a carton of milk or a bag of chips or a can of beer - what else is she going to do for fun? Might as well smoke herself to death. She's probably trying to kill herself and it's probably the only reason why she won't go into a nursing home, where she really should be.

So. Yeah. We were talking about poop, weren't we? She was telling me her latest pooped all over herself story today. And how much of a bitch it is to clean up after she's pooped herself because 1) she can't give herself a bath and 2) she can't stand for very long.

Can you imagine living like this?

Can you help me get back to my point?

Because I can't figure out how to wrap this entry up and now I've got to head over to the frame shop and pay the taxes I neglected to pay yesterday. And that's not going to go too well because 1) I used a tiny bit of ginger spray this morning and 2) I spent almost half an hour with the Smoking Woman; which means that Mr. Frame Shop is going to suffer an allergic attack the size of something really big (gads, I wish I was good with Instant Analogies!)

Bye.

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