Sunday, June 5, 2016



I ask you, how, could it possibly be so 

difficult to juggle four pills?

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I've been wanting to write about the character of a caregiver but I've always felt seriously jinxy talking about relationship details(it's never really a good idea) and that is not to say I live in perfect town-in fact at a recent city street makeover meeting there was some woman who burst out with the following sentence describing my street(ready?). 

She said: IT LOOKS LIKE A GHETTO! 
IT LOOKS LIKE A GHETTO! 

Isn't that fantastic? It puts me in the mind of Raymond

There was another neighbor once, who said she felt bad about moving to more northerly OP because she'd no longer be 'keepin' it real.'. I didn't know people actually said things like that. How embarrassing. 


Anyway, here's a little story that happened yesterday(It speaks to character, your honor). We went to get some sushi. Not real sushi. Those roll things. At Super Tony's. Department of Trying To Eat Better. Right?


We come home, get out of the car and start walking through the ghetto-I mean, we start walking toward where we live and I see this woman who lives in one of those Hover Round wheelchair scooter things. We've seen her before. No big thang. 

Until! I see a grocery bag filled with a loaf of inexpensive bread laying on the sidewalk. (Laying lying-I can never decide.) All I said was something like, hey-I think that bag belongs to that wheelchair lady and... 

...he's off. 

Running after the lady in the chair. Hmmm, I thought. Nice. 

In the ghettoooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOoooooo. 


2 comments:

  1. If we're the ghetto... what's the ghetto supposed to be called?

    ReplyDelete