benchilada | Last Post Before... (Reply)

The blindingtoothfuckdeathpain is upon me again. Took an extra strength Vicodin. I think my fever’s broken, and my nose isn’t running right now, so maybe I’m kicking this coldflu’s ass.
I’m off to write the last couple of pages of Jimmy, but first, you’ve got to enjoy this little e-mail my mother slipped me after last night’s entry.

“Hi Ben,

When is your doctor/dentist appointment? Pain is always classified as an emergency, so they'll give you appointments on the same day. If you don't get an appintment today, I'll have to resort to violence.

Love, Ma.”

My mother, she kicks ass. I’d tell you what my brother Jason wrote in his most recent fountain-pen-on-ancient-paper letter to me, but that would spoil the fun of the idea he gave me. In any event, my root canal is on Tuesday, Mama, so no worries. Unless I go batshit insane and pull it out first.
                    Now, off I go, to write…
    Please trust me when I say it’s almost done. Yes, it’s been a bit coming, but it’s been a bad time for me for writing lately. Hopefully the piece’ll be vaguely coherent, in spite of my ailments.
    When I post it and you read it, let me know what you think. If you like it, tell your friends. If you don’t, don’t.

benjamin
Who, on his way home today, met an 81 year old man named Lloyd who flew over 28 scouting missions around Japan during WWII, but couldn’t fly a fighter on his own, on account of he only weighed 117 pounds.