So, the next few blog posts you see are going to be old things that I wrote in the way backs. I'm putting them here so I don't lose them forever, because I like them.
For instance:
A conversation between a nurse and myself once I'm old enough to get into one of those places. I'm going to be such a naughty old lady.
"We all got dysentery, and we kept losing oxen every time we forded rivers..."
"That sounds a lot like Oregon Trail."
"What? We didn't go to Oregon. We went to India. For spices and silks. And the Indians tried to kill us with Tomahawks."
"The Indians did."
"Yes. For their spices, and silks. But then they taught us how to plant corn, and we had Thanksgiving. But the Indians were not invited, because we killed them with smallpox infected blankets. You're not an Indian, are you?"
"What? No."
"Good, because this blanket is infected with smallpox."
"Miss Putnam, do you want your jello or not?"
"Well, what flavor is it?"
"Lemon."
"...I hate this place. This is worse than when I was teaching the natives how to plant corn."
"I thought the Indians taught you how to plant corn."
"...in Nova Scotia. I was part of an exchange program, and they didn't know how to plant corn, so I showed 'em. But one look at their stupid Canuck faces and I thought, 'Damn, better simplify this bitch.' Hole, corn, fish, dirt. I don't know if it worked because it's always winter in Canada."
"Is it now?"
"Young lady, you shouldn't question your elders. Especially not ones who risked their lives in the war so you could have your -"
"What war is that?"
"The War of 1812. Wow, that was a long war."
"... Miss Putnam, Edna needs her powerchair back now."
"Medicaid gave me this scooter. I need it to beat the rest of these old farts to the cafeteria. They always take the best pudding flavors, and all that's left is tapioca. I can't eat tapioca, ever since Luke told me about how once when he was in Canada, he had to cut open his tauntaun and the inside looked just like tapioca pudding."
"Luke... Skywalker?"
"Yes, you've heard of him? Nice boy. A bit faggy, though. I hate fags."
"Aren't you a lesbian?"
"What does that have to do with... are you asking me to dinner? We can go out. You, me, and Medicaid. You can pay, because Medicaid is a stingy bitch. Ever since I had to weasle my scooter out of her. You'd think losing a leg in the war would qualify..."
"Miss Putnam, you have two legs."
"This one's a prosthetic. Good, isn't it? A nice young man by the name of Spock gave it to me. He was a bit stiff, but very nice. I lost track of him after he had that captain's baby and didn't come back after maternity leave. But, by then, I had already moved on to the next gym, because I had to catch 'em all!"
For instance:
A conversation between a nurse and myself once I'm old enough to get into one of those places. I'm going to be such a naughty old lady.
"We all got dysentery, and we kept losing oxen every time we forded rivers..."
"That sounds a lot like Oregon Trail."
"What? We didn't go to Oregon. We went to India. For spices and silks. And the Indians tried to kill us with Tomahawks."
"The Indians did."
"Yes. For their spices, and silks. But then they taught us how to plant corn, and we had Thanksgiving. But the Indians were not invited, because we killed them with smallpox infected blankets. You're not an Indian, are you?"
"What? No."
"Good, because this blanket is infected with smallpox."
"Miss Putnam, do you want your jello or not?"
"Well, what flavor is it?"
"Lemon."
"...I hate this place. This is worse than when I was teaching the natives how to plant corn."
"I thought the Indians taught you how to plant corn."
"...in Nova Scotia. I was part of an exchange program, and they didn't know how to plant corn, so I showed 'em. But one look at their stupid Canuck faces and I thought, 'Damn, better simplify this bitch.' Hole, corn, fish, dirt. I don't know if it worked because it's always winter in Canada."
"Is it now?"
"Young lady, you shouldn't question your elders. Especially not ones who risked their lives in the war so you could have your -"
"What war is that?"
"The War of 1812. Wow, that was a long war."
"... Miss Putnam, Edna needs her powerchair back now."
"Medicaid gave me this scooter. I need it to beat the rest of these old farts to the cafeteria. They always take the best pudding flavors, and all that's left is tapioca. I can't eat tapioca, ever since Luke told me about how once when he was in Canada, he had to cut open his tauntaun and the inside looked just like tapioca pudding."
"Luke... Skywalker?"
"Yes, you've heard of him? Nice boy. A bit faggy, though. I hate fags."
"Aren't you a lesbian?"
"What does that have to do with... are you asking me to dinner? We can go out. You, me, and Medicaid. You can pay, because Medicaid is a stingy bitch. Ever since I had to weasle my scooter out of her. You'd think losing a leg in the war would qualify..."
"Miss Putnam, you have two legs."
"This one's a prosthetic. Good, isn't it? A nice young man by the name of Spock gave it to me. He was a bit stiff, but very nice. I lost track of him after he had that captain's baby and didn't come back after maternity leave. But, by then, I had already moved on to the next gym, because I had to catch 'em all!"
I always thought Spock and Kirk had a bromance going.
ReplyDeleteWe need experienced forders on the Willamette. Follow the Oregon Trail before you become a naughty old lady!