Yes, Pancho. I get it. You’re sick and disgusted. But, you gotta go.
In what promises to be a HUGE media (:))event, you’re outta here.
You’re down to hours. It’s over big boy.
So why are you paining me, tonight? Is this one last stand? Are you seeking revenge?
I’m sorry. People with higher educations and fancier cars, than you, are cutting your butt out. You can’t hide from them. They have sharp knives and lots of chemicals. They know how to use them.They SO know where you live.
Oh, and that little rash you’ve sent to my right rib cage isn’t gonna stop the surgery. It’s a tiny little thing. It barely itches. No good.
Give it up man. You created havoc in my body and life too long.
The Brain and the Heart agree with me. No use trying to scare me through them. Won’t work.
You don’t know DIL, you give her any more trouble and she’s liable to scoop you out with a grapefruit spoon on the kitchen island.
Looking forward to hearing what’s Bad, Bad, Bad about your convalescence process; may it be mostly ‘The cats are looking at me funny and DIL is hovering!’.