Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Why I forgot your Birthday

I forget my name at least twice a week. I no longer remember my telephone number. My lips no longer say my street address. For some reason most numbers have been forgotten. I try and I try but I am unable to remember anything which has anything to do with anything. I am not sure what to do to change this situation. On the way to the hospital I witnessed a murder and the killer saw me see him pull the trigger and so I had to go on the run. I changed my name, I changed my hair color, I changed cell phone company. Somehow I ended up in Miami working as a dance instructor even though I am tone deaf, have no rhythm, have two left feet, have two right arms and a baker’s dozen of thumbs. While working as a dance instructor in this art deco studio I became involved with this drug cartel and then I met I saw this one legged man named Theo who scared me and so I decided that I needed a candy bar and a milkshake and so while I was sitting at the counter in the surprisingly clean remake of a Hollywood drugstore/malt shop I was discovered and before I could say fiddle dee-dee I became an anchor on the lowest rated television newscast in the city. I had this show where I would receive questions from the audience and I had to try and answer these questions from the strangers. My first two weeks I had problems. People just could not send proper emails. Reading some of those letters were torture. Briefly I forgot that I was being followed by the killer as I began my new career. Well, I would appear on screen three or four times a week. I received letters from only two people each week, Lucinda Arabella May Johnson-Shapiro-Humphries and India Louise Theodora Jones Poindexter Jones Calloway Smith. Well Lucinda Arabella May Johnson-Shapiro-Humphries would always complain about what she saw on the beach, how clothes are no longer have any real quality to them. She would then ask where good quality clothes could be found. India Louise Theodora Jones Poindexter Jones Calloway Smith always wanted to complain about how violent the streets of Miami had become, about the fact that CSI Miami is really shot in California, and how hard it was for her to keep good help.

And you know how I can be and being down there in Miami made me worse than I was when I was here and you know how I like to talk fast and create new words well I didn’t do that but well I was sitting there reading one of those crazy letters from one of those unseen women and I looked up and saw the killer. He was in the same drug store slash malt shop that I was discovered in and then one legged Theo walked into the place too. Life is filled with coincidences.

Luckily I was in a drug store slash malt shop well I quickly purchased a bathing cap, some cold cream, some latex gloves, some flip flops, some antacid, a candy bar, some cheap perfume and three pairs of sunglasses. Well in sixty seconds I sprayed that entire bottle of cheap perfume all over myself, then a put the cold cream all on my face while struggling to pull the bathing cab over my head. I still don’t know why I bought the flip flops or the antacid. Well Theo and the killer started walking toward me and then my camera came into the drug store slash malt shop looking for me.

I forgot I was doing a remote. So here I was on South Beach holding a microphone while wearing a bathing cap, cold cream, ugly cheap plastic sunglasses. I flip flops, antacid and a candy bar in the other hand.

Well the camera guy loved. That remote went viral. Now I have to dress up like this every day.

Oh, and the point of this story is that there is always something preventing me from remembering your birthday.

I am still on the run.

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