By WR Jones, painting by EL Jones
My daugher, Erika, a medical student, was telling me about interviewing a liver transplant patient. This patient had been an alcoholic and IV drug user. I don’t get the scoring system that allows someone who knowingly or just plain shit all stupidly destroyed their liver to receive a liver from a donor. Are there not more worthy recepients?
I remember when Mickey Mantle received a liver only to die a short time later of cancer. Well, no big deal if he hadn’t destroyed his own liver with heavy drinking such as I’m doing while writing this post. And, hell yes, this logic does not apply to me at ALL. Painters should be given special privliges to make up for all the suffering.
What suffering you ask. It is true I do diddly squat around the house and less at the workplace. OK, OK, I will tell you what suffering. Twice – that is double once for you math challenged (and the governing board is letting you all into the special olympics next year), I have tried to order stuff from those who did not learn English as a first language.
In each case I made a simple request for a hamburger with light mayo and a few onions. What I get is EVERYTHING but what I ask for. What the hell. How hard is an order for a hamburger with a little mayo and a few onions? Nigh on impossible for the fast food joints around here.
My solution – test all those Mexican’s crossing the border. Have a portable grill and ask for a hamburger with light mayo and onions. If they fail, give them counseling on the opportunties in cooking meth and selling crack from the street corner. We’ve just got to find someone to take responsiblity for giving us a burger with light mayo and onions.