Dr. Ismail walked in without looking at first and then looked at me. "Wow. Your hair…" was the second thing he said after ‘Hi'. 01/2009

     Waiting for the nurse to take my blood I grew restless in the plastic chair and the table that was covered with a terry-cloth towel that had been taunting me which I had resisted for my own self-gratifying reasons but I eventually gave into just before I was bored with it and almost forgot about was fucked with speculums. 5,6,7 of them. Did they expect it to take that many on me? I smiled and held back my laugh. The sight of me peeking under the white towel like a fucking criminal made me laugh. Then she came in with a fat needle that I couldn't wait until she stuck into my arm so I could Feel it. I told her that 'they' usually have better luck on the left side. That's the side I wanted her to use. She put it in completely painlessly and I hated her and couldn't believe her for that. She was pregnant...highly. 

      Mrs. Butler told me that I could write an almost-run-on-sentence like a mad bastard but not quite in those words. I write stories as I tell them with a thousand almost-run-ons.