Glad to see you are in such good spirits, Bernie.
It'd book material Bernie. For any of us who have been there, hopefully in less danger than you were, your description was real enough to smell.
Loved the pig. You'd better be glad his was bigger than yours...
Love ya both.
New and exciting.
Always the thrill-seeker.
Glad you're home, Mr. Mountie.
I just startled sozlet by exclaiming (loudly, evidently), "Hey, it's him!!!"
Welcome home, Blatham.
I've missed you.
SO glad you didn't go away for good.
(((HUG)))
(Psst......A choir of green, spikey-haired lesbian angels?! And to think, you said there was no God.)
The whole fukking experience would have been considerably more interesting if I hadn't already seen it on TV and a thousand times... sequence of ceilings and light fixtures going past, concerned faces poking in from right or left, ambulance siren, more ceilings and faces, losing that important grip, dying, the bekoning soft white light, the choir of green spikey-haired lesbian angels, then getting yanked back up from the cool and comfy bottom like hapless goddamn sucker fish whose age and height and weight is apparently of utmost importance to Jewish doctors and Filipino nurses. Any shitheel of a screenplay writer could have improved upon that string of cliches.
But it did hurt. That part was new and exciting.
With writing like that it was a career move.
blatham wrote: Any shitheel of a screenplay writer could have improved upon that string of cliches.
Forget the script, it's all about the delivery. You, sir, did an impressive job creating suspense for us.
blatham wrote:But it did hurt. That part was new and exciting.
Glad you enjoyed yourself after all. It's good to have you back! <hugs>
WOW, too. I just discovered this thread. With our presumption that one has to be overweight to suffer hard attacks and strokes, the recent travails of Dys and now,of the very fit, Bernie, is surprising, downright counter-intuitive. I guess it can thus happen to anyone. But I can't help but feel that Bernie's general fitness should still pay off as an anti-risk factor in his recovery and long-term health.
Best wishes to both of you, Lola and Bernie.
Bernie ( Istill have trouble with that name) has a single risk factor that Lola hasnt shared with us, How well did Blatham pick his ancestors?
Ive always read thes e obits about entire families that are gone in their 40s from a shared genomic challenge.
Most of ones cholesterolli is a gift from ones parents, as is any structural defects or essential hypertension. SO, to really control those risk factors that are under our control is always wise.
Since Ive only known Blatham by his past posts, I dont know whether hes ever been guilty of demonstrating wisdom.
So Bern ( mind if I call you Bern? I can handle that better), did you see the bright light? Was it round or long like a flourescent bulb? Was there anybody, like Gus, or (shudder) Frank Apisa there to welcome you to the East side of Styx?
Remember dude, this one was free, with around trip ticket. Heed the golum.
My mother's family has a history of chronic heart disease. Both her mother and her mother's sister were diagnosed in their fifties. They both died at age 92. I figure i could keel over any minute . . .
Helllloooo Bernie! Glad to see you back with us!
Bernie, love, welcome home.
Green spikey hair?
I believe you
Next August, you need to take a long vacation...
(Sorry; I know it hurts to laugh...)
Set, how scary. Looks like you're doomed to die when you reach 92. That was the age of my dad when he died.
Glad to see you back. You're already through smoking Hell week so the bad part is behind you.
Welcome home dude and remember, the quicker you can climb a flight of steps......
Bernie- So glad to see you back, and apparently in fine fettle!
It was a fine piece of writing......but I feel compelled to inform that the spikey haired lesbian angels were not original. They were modeled after a gang of girls he encountered down at the Hogs and Heifers in the lowest East Village, South of St. Marks Place, where the bikers hang out. At that place the girls dance on the bar and the patrons cut off their bras with steak knives.
And when they sing, they sing of better days to come. Hallelujah
Better days to come...?
Hallelujah, indeed.
And Amen.
(Sweet dreams.)
