Clown Bar - Dusty Monologue
My cat died last week. Thirty seven years old and died falling off
the counter. She was dead before she hit the ground I suspect. I
still haven’t buried her. I’m too sad about it. I just stuffed her in
the freezer and now whenever I want a popsicle, I see her and I
start crying again. On top of that, yesterday, I was sitting on my
couch and I noticed a tear in it. I should probably get some thread
and stitch it up. It’ll just get bigger if you don’t do something
about it. You know what they say, a stitch in time . . . something
something. Something about stitches. But it applies universally.
To all ways of fastening things. Like pull up your zipper now or
you’ll be cold later. Or take the antibiotics now before you giveit
to other people. Or like, go to rehab before you OD on cough syrup
or PCP or whatever. Or like, take care of your mama. My mama’s
doing okay. In fact, I was having a pretty good day if I wasn’t
thinking about the cat or my couch. But then Shotgun shot me in
the foot. I’ll probably get gangrene. I’m hoping the burlesque
show might cheer me up. Hey what are you guys doing?