12% BEER
Some Letters To My Organs
  Dear Lungs,

I know we're not on speaking terms right now. I've lied to you over and over again. Made promises that I've broken moments later. I drive around the polluted areas of Austin with my windows rolled down, sucking in every poison available in the atmosphere, only to further torture you with a crappy Dorel cigarette. I understand why you're mad at me. I understand why you're throwing all your phlegmy lining away. I know that you're just trying to make yourself heard. And I hear you. Sunday, I'll buy the patch. It must be done. Not for my sake, dear lungs, but for yours. I'm very sorry I've been so awful to you.




Dear Sinuses,

Apparently we're having some issues. I didn't even know you were mad at me, but then I wake up and you're all clogged. What's happening? Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me because I forced you to inhale cigarette smoke, pollen, and bad breath all day yesterday? To be honest, I didn't even think about how it would piss you guys off. I hope that we can work this out because, well, when you're angry, it puts alot of pressure on me. Especially the part of me called Face. Lets work something out because I hate to see you like this. Call me?



Dear Stomach-

Ahhhhhhhh, baby. I'ms so sorry that I've been neglecting you the ways that I have. I knows you don't like it when I fill you with Dairy loving. You can't handle the creamy lifestyle that Ladeeleroy likes to live. Now, if you weren't my Boo, I'd be all like, "Phhht- forget that organ- I gots me some other organs that'll treat me right and will accept my Dairy loving ways." But, baby, you know I lovesss you. I'll start cutting back on those Dairy's. Shit, I'll start taking those Lactaids you like so much. I'll buy you a Lactaid necklace that you can wear to all your parties. You'll look beautiful in it. I just wanna fill you with organic vegetables and well cooked meats. Big meats that are super lean. Then, I'll lay you down in a bed of healthy grains and sweet sweet fruits and let you digest until you wanna scream, "OH! OH! NO MORE LADEELEROY! I'M SO FULL AND HAAAAAPPPPPPPPPY. OHHH!" You know what I'm saying baby? Cause you's my tummy. And Ladeeleroy loves her some tummy.

I loves you baby. I'm so glad you're my boo.



Dear Pancreas,

Hi. I don't think we've ever met before. But, um, I think that should change because we have alot in common. You live in my body, for example.

Yeah. We should talk sometimes. I've heard great things about you and I'd like to get to know you better.




Dear Uterus,

Hey. How's in going? What're you up to? Just kind of hanging out, huh? That's cool.

Just wanted to make sure you weren't thinking about getting a roommate. That'll violate your lease.

But you're a fabulous tenant. I'm glad you're here. Yeah, your rent is due this weekend. I'll see you then.

Take care of yourself. Not of a fertilized egg. Not that there's anything wrong with fertilized eggs- I just got some shit to do and the entire Fertilized Egg/Uterus thing'll cramp my style.

Glad that we're on the same page. Tell those ovaries of yours to turn their music down- it's making me cranky.

Thanks! S/S/S



Dear Brain:

We'll take a nap soon so that we'll be able to actually work together instead of against one another.

I'll see you in REM.



Dear Hangover That's In My Brain:

Please go away. You make being at work a pain and make my Diary entries suck.

That is all.


Get All Notified:

I know you were here.
Copyright 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004 L.Leroy