Drugged Out of My Mind

Isn't that daring?


And true, dear reader.


Just one of the many benefits of dental implant surgery, especially when you have complications and throbbing pain. Yes, the implants I now have could pay for a new Honda Accord. Does that make me feel a little sick?

Um, yeah. Kinda. Not really, though. I'm too giggly and cuckoo. Life seems funny. I feel mellow in the extreme, my arms open to the world.


Then again I'm drugged on my ass. Like this woman in Edgar Degas's L'Absinthe. You know, I wouldn't mind a little absinthe to go with my codeine-a-licious Tylenol (doc said I could pop two at a time!) . This girl is NOT having a good time, though. I think she ought to dump that guy, who is an odd cross between scurrilous degenerate and Emmett Kelley clown. That could freak you out fast in my condition.

I don't want to look like this guy, Picasso's The Absinthe Drinker. He's got that androgynous wicked witch thing going on. The hands are freaking me out too.

This guy is under the influence himself. He is about to have the fantasy of his life with that green girl. I'll be the green girl, okay? He looks a little erudite, but I like erudite. His eyes look a little crossed too, and why not? I'll give him something to cross his eyes for.


That waiter is on his way over to spoil everything. (Absinthe Drinker by Viktor Oliva Czech)

Another Absinthe Drinker, this one perhaps a carnival contortionist by day. Look at those arms. She's thinking of things she should have said. Things she could still say. Measuring them against silence. She wraps her arms a little further around herself, playing it all out in her mind.

My comrades. my friends, my drinkers in arms, I wish you all a wonderful good night.Can you unscrew this before you go? love,

whatis my name? oh yeah becky