Apr 2013
“You must be Donny?”
asks a tall, thin man with olive-green skin. He must be Italian, but then again, I’m not exactly sure. For Heaven’s sake - judging by his handshake, Justin Timberlake could break him into two. Distracted by the shiny pennies in his brown penny loafers, I don’t want to come across as rude, but I suddenly don’t care to know this dude. Then he says to me,
“Tell me about yourself.”
“Well, my name is Donny. I’m bored, so I would like to give my self a lobotomy, but first I have to feed the monster that’s inside of me, so I must pick out the green mold in my expired salami.
“Instead of doing important things, I enjoy jumping up and down on my mattress that is made of squeaky springs while flapping my arms, pretending I have wings.
“Sometimes I get fidgety when this alcoholic, legless ****** stands too close to me, but then I feel guilty cause he’s blind and homeless and reeks likes ***, so I tell him he can lean on me.
“When I go to the dollar store I like to be a **** and drive the clerk berserk by asking him to do a price check on every item I’ve dropped on the floor. The manager grabs my collar and throws me out the door.
“I still ask my mother if I can please wear her skis when I climb trees only using my knees. She says, ‘Grow up! You’re 33, quit bothering me.’ I did!!! I’m 5’10… now what am I suppose to do then??
“I like to play the air fiddle and stand in the middle of the street in my bare feet with a mouth full of skittles, trying not to dribble, telling lots of riddles.
“Sometimes when I’m drinking I like to wear a black top-hat like Abe Lincoln then I get to thinking, while squawking like a chicken, how long I can keep my eyes open without blinking.
“‘Four score and seven years ago’ seems to be a mathematical equation that can be breaking down to zero. Oh, oh, oh! Did I ever tell you who my hero is??”
“donny”---“dooonny” “Doooonny” “DONNY!!
It’s time to leave and return to your room.”
“Room? What room?”
“Your room - there’s someone there to see you.”
“Who?”
“Your hero.”
I feel a gentle hand rest on my back and guide me to an unfamiliar door. I enter into this mysterious room and hear the door shut and quickly lock behind me.
Where is he? “WHERE IS HE?!” I hear my voice echo down the hallway. I know they can hear me. “TED NUGENT!! MY HERO! SWEATY UNCLE TEDDY! WHERE IS MY HERRROOOOOO?!?!?!”
A large, olive-green plant stands proudly in the corner by the window. How did my psychiatrist sneak in here?
“You must be Donny?”
asks a tall, thin man with olive-green skin. He must be Italian, but then again, I’m not exactly sure. For Heaven’s sake - judging by his handshake, Justin Timberlake could break him into two. Distracted by the shiny pennies in his brown penny loafers, I don’t want to come across as rude, but I suddenly don’t care to know this dude. Then he says to me,
“Tell me about yourself.”
“Well, my name is Donny. I’m bored, so I would like to give my self a lobotomy, but first I have to feed the monster that’s inside of me, so I must pick out the green mold in my expired salami.
“Instead of doing important things, I enjoy jumping up and down on my mattress that is made of squeaky springs while flapping my arms, pretending I have wings.
“Sometimes I get fidgety when this alcoholic, legless ****** stands too close to me, but then I feel guilty cause he’s blind and homeless and reeks likes ***, so I tell him he can lean on me.
“When I go to the dollar store I like to be a **** and drive the clerk berserk by asking him to do a price check on every item I’ve dropped on the floor. The manager grabs my collar and throws me out the door.
“I still ask my mother if I can please wear her skis when I climb trees only using my knees. She says, ‘Grow up! You’re 33, quit bothering me.’ I did!!! I’m 5’10… now what am I suppose to do then??
“I like to play the air fiddle and stand in the middle of the street in my bare feet with a mouth full of skittles, trying not to dribble, telling lots of riddles.
“Sometimes when I’m drinking I like to wear a black top-hat like Abe Lincoln then I get to thinking, while squawking like a chicken, how long I can keep my eyes open without blinking.
“‘Four score and seven years ago’ seems to be a mathematical equation that can be breaking down to zero. Oh, oh, oh! Did I ever tell you who my hero is??”
“donny”---“dooonny” “Doooonny” “DONNY!!
It’s time to leave and return to your room.”
“Room? What room?”
“Your room - there’s someone there to see you.”
“Who?”
“Your hero.”
I feel a gentle hand rest on my back and guide me to an unfamiliar door. I enter into this mysterious room and hear the door shut and quickly lock behind me.
Where is he? “WHERE IS HE?!” I hear my voice echo down the hallway. I know they can hear me. “TED NUGENT!! MY HERO! SWEATY UNCLE TEDDY! WHERE IS MY HERRROOOOOO?!?!?!”
A large, olive-green plant stands proudly in the corner by the window. How did my psychiatrist sneak in here?
“You must be Donny?”
I don't like Ted Nugent.
(Milwaukee)
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