Wheelchairs of Fire

I know that I am being a little lax about posting, but my broken foot has made me lazier than a dead raccoon on a shoreman's ass during a heat wave in Tuscaloosa. I'm getting better. Today, I showered. I also replaced my big shoe with an Ugg. Yes, the broken foot is now being supported by the finest sheep hide, courtesy of that criminal-laden island down under. Oh GOD, Australia has so many criminals!!! So...many...toned, burly, diamond-abbed, sun-soaked, shark-biting, gator-frenching, koala-punching, roo-birthing criminals!


Regardless, they make a damn good orthopedic shoe for this soft, weak, martini-guzzling, hoagie-humping, gigolo-paying, pillow-assed invalid.


It would seem that when one loses the use of her foot, her immediate reaction might be to be grateful for the use of her other foot, or for not being paralyzed, or for not being blind...but mostly, I've just been cussing out my bad foot. Mostly, I just say things to it like: "You're weak! Your brother would never do this to me!" or "A prosthetic is twice the foot that you are. A plastic fucking prosthetic!! Do you hear me? You know what? Ha! A TACO IS TWICE THE FOOT YOU ARE!! Don't turn away from me when I talk to you? Don't you dare hide in that slipper."

Also, not only do I more readily notice other cripples in the subway and on the street, but I've become much more competitive with them. I'm sickly jealous of the kids with those tasty sweet aluminum crutches.

Occasionally, I see an old lady with a cane that's nicer than mine and I blast by her on the escalator, as if to say, "I don't even need this thing. It's decorative. My homeless cane is an accessory. Like a belly chain. This is just a big wooden belly chain...that prevents me from tipping over onto the train tracks." Yesterday, I basically ran by an elderly man, who was using a combination of a cane in one hand and a crutch in the other, even though the pain was equivalent to a pair of jumper cables on my clit. I guess I'm just determined to out-cripple the other handicappies. And that's when it came to me...the Special Olympics. If I have a slightly fractured foot, which will most certainly be healed in a few weeks, could I potentially enter myself in the table tennis competition of the Special Olympics? What do you think?




ALSO SHOW UPDATE!! IF YOU ARE IN THE NEW YORK CITY AREA, PLEASE COME SEE "DOODY CALLS." MY SKETCH GROUP, THE WIENER PHILHARMONIC, ALONG WITH JON FRIEDMAN OF THE REJECTION SHOW ARE PUTTING ON THIS HILARIOUS SHOW AT THE PIT EVERY FRIDAY THIS MONTH AT 8PM. COME ON OUT!! IT'LL BE DOODYFUL!!