Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Like Father/Like Son

Hey Friends-
Uncle Vick here!

I got me a son! He looks like me and Kwannie. He and I are on a road trip. We're going to vote for McCain and that sexpot Palin. 

Look, poor little Irv, all trapped in Bakersfield with no dough, you and Kwannie got some nerve talking about me on this blog like I'm a bad candidate to be a father. Did it occur to you that I'm the only one of the three of us that gots a job?? Remember? I approve health care for people in Los Angeles. Remember? Yeah, I take breaks that last two weeks or more, but I got influence there.

Who do you think is going to get custody of this child? Kwan ain't go no job. Her mother is possessed by devils with six arms. They don't scare me with their threats of "friends" comin' to get me. 

Hold on, I gotta take a chicken wing back from the kid. When he eats meat you'd think he was a jackal the way he tears at it with his gums and fingers. He laughs so hard when he fights to get out of his child car seat. Yeah, Kwannie, I stole us a nice child car safety seat from a Mormon family that didn't know I was out in the parking lot by their SUV.

I won't tell you where we are, but I ain't runnin'.  I'll be checkin' the hot box next to Sarah Palin's name come Tuesday. I got a picture of her from the newspaper that I got folded up in my back pocket. When I drive, I tell the kid, "I'm ridin' Sarah Palin all the way to the White House!"

The kid loves that!  He loves his daddy. 

All the best to you both,
Uncle Vick

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Stolen Sy

Irv here--

If anyone reads this blog...I am sorry I have not written more lately. When the economy collapsed the mental health clinic where I've been working in Bakersfield cut back it's hours. To cut costs they had to cancel the Pyromania 12 step-program, and the Personal Hygiene Workshop. And the clinic is now only open on Wednesday and Friday.

I'm two months behind on my rent in the residential motel. 

But I won't feel sorry for myself. I can't. I was offered a job a meth lab a few miles from here.  Dear God, is that my only option?

But the worse thing that's happened is that Kwan's baby was stolen! Uncle Vick took him two weeks ago. The DNA test said Vick was the father, which I find hard to believe since Vick must have baboon DNA.

Kwan is still in San Jose. The only good thing that can come out of all of this is that maybe when Uncle Vick is caught they'll finally put him in jail for the murders two years ago, and the murder of my father last year.

Kwan knew some people from the political campaign she ran last year that are looking for Vick. People that are not good people, is the best I can say about them.

I've been smoking pot every day and live off of peanut butter. I need money and then I'm going back to LA to confront Uncle Vick. Maybe I can find work out there.

Yeah, I'm lonely. There's a woman down the hall I see every so often. She's the one that told me about the meth lab job. 

Kwan named her baby, Sy, short for Sylvester. She said the last thing she saw him do was eat a five dollar bill. Any son of Uncle Vick would act that way, I guess. Whoever heard of a psycho baby? Well, that's what Kwan says he is.

Uncle Vick, if you're reading this, those friends of Kwan are nasty bad. Take Sy back to her and find a good head doctor. That's good advice from family. You'll never follow it, but you can't say I haven't tried.

I'm going to a job interview at the meth lab today. It's the only work left for me out here in the "Real America."

I'll write again soon,

Irv Rorg

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Letter to Sarah Palin From Kwan Johnson

Dear Sarah Palin,

I doubt you will ever read this blog. Although, anything is possible.

My name is Kwan Johnson and I am a former candidate for congress in a district within San Francisco.  I realize San Francisco is "the devil's workshop" as far as you are concerned, but nevertheless, we are both women and we both have tasted politics.

I have a one month old infant who exhibits sociopathic traits. I will not identify the father, because he reads this blog. 

I am living in San Jose at the moment with my mother in a one bedroom apartment filled with incense and a shrine made of cornstalk and birds eggs.

My question for you is simply this: You work in politics. How do you handle sociopaths? I mean what do you DO to outmaneuver them? Have you ever raised one? And dear God, if you are one yourself, then I may go mad.

You see, I love the baby's father. I love the baby, but...he tried to strangle me with his diaper this morning. I was rubbing noses with him and the next thing I knew the clean diaper I had set next to him was jammed into my my son!

He pushed and he pushed and he cooed ferociously!

I wrenched myself free.

Sarah Palin, you work with the worst kind of people, the most mentally twisted corrupt individuals.  Please tell me what to do about my baby boy!  

I haven't left my apartment since my son was born. I've cut my hair short and my face looks haggard. My mother sprinkles Vietnamese lotus petals on my pillow and burns them with matches to evoke the "spirits of protection," but Sarah Palin:

There is something wrong with my son!

Yours Truly (although I am a Libertarian)
Kwan Johnson

Saturday, July 26, 2008


The baby is not mine and I'm disappointed. Irv here. 

I thought I didn't want a child and now that I find I don't have one, I'm disappointed!

I'm here in San Jose staying at the YMCA on the Alameda. I haven't seen hide nor hair of Uncle Vick, but I've seen Kwan and her mother and the infant.

I took a bus up here from Bakersfield. I sat next to a farmer and two huge crates of tomatoes he said he couldn't afford the gas to transport to Fresno. There was a live chicken on the bus as well. It must have been a damned "free range" chicken because they let it run up and down the bus aisle for an hour until a woman stuffed it into a shopping bag.

Look, I didn't want a kid, I guess, a) because I can't afford it, and b) my family has the "psycho" gene.

When we found out the kid wasn't mine, Kwan went silent. We haven't really spoken since. Kwan's mother has been strangely silent. I don't know what's going to happen. 

I have to be back at work at the Mental Health Clinic on Monday. Depressed, so I guess I'll go see "Dark Knight."


Friday, July 25, 2008

Strange Baby

My name is Nurse Gallibupja. I work in the maternity ward here at Kaiser on Kiely Blvd in Santa Clara, CA.

One of the women here, Kwan Johnson, mentioned this blog and I saw the password on a notebook she has by her bed.

It is my lunch hour. There are eleven babies in the ward today. The Johnson Baby is one of them. He is the strangest baby I have ever cared for. He is quite healthy. But yesterday, he tore the head off a stuffed lamb and ate it and then he laughed very very hard until he started choking. I have never seen a baby eat a doll and then laugh before.

I picked him up to help him stop choking. I wouldn't have believed it possible but when he quieted down and I held him in front of me and wiggled my nose for him and cooed "nice baby." he reached up and slapped me! I don't mean a little touch or a cute nudge. He SLAPPED me. There is still a little red stinging mark on my right cheek near my mouth.

I bring these things up here in this blog because I wonder how much work has been done in the sociopathic field on sociopathic infants. 

I do remember the case of the "Bloomberg Child" in 1996 in Salt Lake City that was said to have stabbed all of the balloons in the maternity ward with a sliver of plastic from a broken feeding bottle. The balloons had been tied in a bunch to his crib and somehow he had pulled them all down and exploded them. The footage was on a security cam and it was the most spine tingling thing to watch.

My lunch hour is up now. The Johnson Boy and his mother Kwan Johnson are due to be released later today. Her mother has been barred from the fourth floor due to the incense she has been lighting and the loud shouts she makes while meditating.

Apprehensively yours,
Nurse Gallibupja

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Labor and Victor Rorg

Hello, this is Kwan.

I have been in labor for four days counting. I am dictating this on pain pills and in between contractions to a nurse. I won't tell you where I am.

This baby has to belong to Victor Rorg because it HURTS so much!!

Victor, I reported your location at the Ramada to the police, and my mother told them all of your past history and by now you have been presented with a restraining order at the very least (my mother has friends in the San Jose police department).


I have lots of regrets.  I regret the time I wasted living with Victor Rorg in LA last summer. I regret any sexual contact I may have had with him. I regret running for Congress last Fall and then dropping out of the race. I regret having a uterus. I regret being a woman. I regret falling in love with Irv. I regret my mother's nagging. I regret our reliance on fossil fuels. I regret Tory Spelling's reality show.


I have plans for my life after this baby is born. First...I'm going to send Victor Rorg to prison for the rest of my life and everyone who is alive today's life. I am going to save money. I am going to ....




Monday, July 14, 2008


Uncle Vick on the Electronic Blaster here!


Eleven days go by. I finally had to leave LA.  That bitch woman aimed a Latvian Rocket Candle at my ass on Fourth of July night. My pants are still smoldering.  I wasn't stalking her, for chrissakes.  She's  a dentist. What's she doing with a Latvian Rocket Candle?  The thing was the size of  a Visigoth Feast Sausage from the Middle Ages. Must have weighed 120 pounds.

I got the message.  I won't bother her again, although lesbians are a turn-on. Don't go tellin' me that was your mom's curse either...

So, Kwannie?  Is our baby a boy or a girl? Irv can't have kids.  Gotta be mine.  We have to get married now.  

I'm up in San Jose, at the Ramada off of Lawrence Expressway. Don't have your address but there are ways...

Uncle Vick

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Fireworks and Paternity

Irv here.

Paternity Test! That's what is needed.

After this weekend, Kwan, I'm coming up to San Jose. I'm taking three days off from the Mental Health Clinic starting Monday. They agreed. 

I'm considering traveling on horseback because of the $5. gas.  (I'm joking) Although the head therapist at the clinic hitchhikes to work now. She said she'd rather be dismembered by Freddie than pay Chevron $80 bucks for a tank of gas.

I've been avoiding doing anything lately because frankly I was happy with no responsibilities and no ties to anyone. I got burned out, you know? All that went down late last year...I'm still recovering from it. Sometimes you just want to lock yourself up and not answer the phone and it feels good!

I'm not due in to work today until 12, and it's going to be 100 degrees...
I smoked a joint this morning and did 200 pushups. I guess I'm trying to keep responsibility away from me. Being high also makes this "extended stay motel for the poor" more bearable. Like the bathroom down the hall... 

If I'm the father, I'll do everything I'm supposed to do, I swear. The worst part of it, though, is the psychotic genetic trait that the Rorg family passes down and that I worry I've got inside of me, too.

Don't you get tired of anxiety about shit? Don't you miss the days when you could just run out on a summer morning like this one and have a fuckin' good time?

There's a "jello-mold" party this afternoon at the Mental Health Clinic. I'm supposed to be one of the judges. Forgive me, but I'm going to make that my main focus today so I can stay sane. I'm sure I'll get lucky. My favorite flavor is lime.


Sunday, June 29, 2008

The Baby is Yours...

My mother is asleep right now, so I can finally write something. 

Kwan here.

San Jose in the summertime is not where I wanted to be...ever. The traffic behind Santana Row is ridiculous.

Irv, you have to be the father. Your Uncle Vick wasn't much in bed. Okay, he was nothing in bed. He would snort and growl and bounce up and down, and he'd whistle, and use his hands and he'd sweat too much and sometimes pass out, but he did nothing...I repeat...NOTHING...that could make him the father of this baby!

It could only be you, Irv. Those doctors were wrong about you and that thresher accident. 

My mother tried to levitate herself yesterday after the ABC news with that handsome David Muir. She was trying to see into the future. She ate three zucchini squash and smoked a cigarette bigger than a hot dog, but she never left the floor. I love her and her quaint old ways. But of course, she's an idiot.

God, I wish this baby would come. It's due any day.


Monday, June 23, 2008

My Mouth Is Still Numb!

My name is Agosto DeRoglio, I'm a satellite TV repairman, and I had a crown put in my mouth last week. I used 1-800-CrownIt, the free dental crown referral service that advertises on TV. 

NEVER. NEVER use them!  My mouth is still numb! I was lyin' in the chair after this tough lookin' woman gave me a shot, and she's fittin' me for my new crown, and in walks this big guy with slashes in his beard and a tank top and a tattoo of I don't know what on his arm! She screams and spins me around to block the big guy from jumpin' at her! I'm screamin' only nothin' is comin' out because my mouth is numb and water is sprayin' everywhere.

The big guy lunges at the tough dental woman and she stabs him with this little dental implement, maybe the thing with the hook on it. She turns on her little drill and pushes it into his right ear.

The receptionist runs in and they all fell on the floor, fightin'. I jumped out of my chair and ran out of that office and into the street. I was screamin' and shoutin' and almost got hit by a hybrid car that was speedin' down the boulevard.  The driver hit the brakes and the car spun around twice and my mouth was still numb but I hollered for Jesus anyway.

I still don't got no crown. I'm gonna sue that dental woman. I'm gonna go on 60 minutes. I've got a rubber earplug jammed in my tooth until I can find another dentist. 

A REAL one this time!

Agosto D.

Saturday, June 21, 2008


Irv here--

So often I turn to this blog when I don't know what to do.

There is no working air-conditioning in this residential hotel.  The place you don't want to be during a heat wave in California is Bakersfield. It's 10 Squillion degrees outside right now. I've got my shirt off and some chollos whistled at me from the street. Guess they like the pointy sideburns that do a right angle above my jaw and point at my mouth. Was cool in 1970 and it's cool now, I guess.

I'm smokin' a joint right now. Kwan, we had a great talk on the phone last night, but I still want that DNA test. Doctors told me I couldn't have kids after my wheat thresher accident in '99.  It was a horrible movie I was workin' on and they needed a stunt guy to drive the mobile wheat thresher in that car chase on the garlic field. Who knew wheat threshers would tip over at speeds above twenty miles per hour? 

I've got all my parts, as you know, Kwan, but I fell pretty hard and the doctors did tests and I'm not supposed to be able to have kids.

What if Vick is right?  You're nine months pregnant so that goes back to the time when I took you away from him...

I guess the DNA test will tell us.  I'm glad your mother put a curse on Uncle Vick.  Maybe that will hold him back better than a restraining order.

I'll be up to see you as soon as I can. I don't have any money. The Mental Health Center owes me three weeks back pay.

It's a great night to toke up and look up at the sky and wish you were anyone else but who you are.


Monday, June 16, 2008

A Restraining Order Is Not Love

This has got to be the screwiest blog I've ever read or written in! 

Look, I'm Kate Marie. I'm a dentist and I'm a lesbian, and yeah, I've got great teeth.

Gays Get Married Today in California! Right on!

Vick Rorg says he's been spending a lot of time at my place...yeah! Stalking me!  I filed for a restraining order on the a-hole. He was sitting inside my hedge on Sunday! Who sits inside a hedge all morning? Who?

Yeah, his heart is full for ME. I'm a dyke, Vick!  A real honest to goodness butch...with jet black hair and great teeth.

I belong to the Gay Gun Club, so I'm not afraid to protect my house and my lawn.  Yeah, and I have night vision goggles, okay, Victor?

Helped him shave fashion circles in his beard? Yeah. More like attacked him with my electric shaver.  He might think those things look like circles but they look like random gashes to me. Not pretty.

You bet I'm angry! My sister is dead and was buried in this pig's backyard and nobody goes to jail? He's runnin' around lose makin' babies and freakin' out good people?

I've got a crown to do on a satellite TV repairman at 4:30, so I've gotta sign off.

Are all you cops who have written in this blog asleep at the wheel? What is wrong with this country? Nothing works! Nothing!

Kate Marie
California Marriage Is For Everyone!

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

The Devil Girl

I am Zu Li. I am the mother to Kwan.  

Kwan sleeps now. The curtains are drawn. Her room is dark. San Jose is dark.  

Rise evil spirits 
Rise to me 
Talk your talkings to old Zu Li  

Wait!! I must cough! ....There. That is better. I have Drafty House disease. Kwan calls it emphysema.  

Wait! ...There...  

Pregnant Girl Potion 
she drink last night 
Who is father? 
I must fight  

I write the words as well as sing them, Kwan. I have just done the Dancing of the Uterus. I even used the cymbal and gong. I am wearing four towels. Four sacred bath scarves.  

No! Don't wake up! The spell will break! No! NO!  

CRAP! Forgive me, spirits. I will go watch Intervention...and be patient...and wait

Monday, June 9, 2008

Captain Uncle Vick!

I see we're all back in bidness!  At least, we were.  It's me: Uncle Vick!

What's the matter, Irv? Stunned because you think you're a daddy?  What makes you think it's yours, huh?  I was with Kwannie before you came along...and during...  

Makes me laugh.  Me, a father.  No kids of my own until now. Ha!  I'll get the kid health insurance with Complete Wrap.  Yeah, I've kept my job through everything.  Even if a body's been in prison, they'll keep you on.  

So, you came lookin' for me back at the house, did ya?  Lawn needs mowin' , huh?  That's a shame we missed each other.  You see, I've been spendin' a lot of my time with a woman named, Kate Marie.  She needs consoling.  And my heart is full of love.

I need consoling, too.  I'm a father but I don't know where my unborn child is bein' kept.  But I'll find out.  Ah, Google.  By the time you freakin' read this, I'll have everyone's social security number, parking space number, and body fat ratio.  

You should see my new beard.  Kate Marie helped me shave a couple of circles the size of dimes below my lower lip.  Wasn't that nice?  I look real hip now.  

Kwannie likes her baby daddy to be real hip!

I wish you could see me smilin' right now. With these beard circles I look like a grinnin' swiss cheese.

I want that baby to kiss his Uncle Vick right on the lips!

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Irv, Is That Really You?

Irv? If that really is's Kwan.
This blog was locked up so long. Thanks for reactivating the original password. Or, thanks to whoever your hacker friend was.

I'm not going to beat around the bush. I'm pregnant! The baby is yours.

God, one moment I'm living my dream, running for Congress, and the next I'm knocked up, washed up in politics, and living with my mother, Zu Li in San Jose. Help me, please! My mother is crazy. She sees spirits in my belly and claims when she turns the lights out at night the spirits glow yellow and tell her my baby must go back to Vietnam to be born. She makes me drink a "pregnant girl" potion she makes from roots and Pepsi and God-knows-what-else! Help me, Irv!

So much for your "condoms from Target!"

I've got to go now. My mother has "Intervention" on A&E blasting in the other room. She fell asleep again, I'm sure.

Please write me, since your cell number doesn't work anymore.


Tuesday, June 3, 2008

At Last! A Return...

It's Irv--

Four months later.  I tried to access this blog a few times but someone changed the password. I'm in Bakersfield, I don't mind sayin'.  I never went back to Los Angeles.  

Well, just once, I did.  I was going to settle things with Uncle Vick, at last.  When I got to his house, there was no one there.  The grass was overgrown in the front yard.  No cars parked in the driveway.  No lights.  But, the furniture was inside.  I looked through the kitchen window.

So, I came back to Bakersfield.  This is my home now.  I've started a new life.  I work at a mental health free clinic.  I'm the janitor.  I live in a long-term residential hotel downtown.

I withdrew from the world.  I withdrew from other people.  They all make me tired.  Everyone is selfish and everyone is clammoring for someone to pay attention to them.  That's America.  Land of the "Look at me!" and "More More More!"

That crap almost killed me.  I did 200 situps today. 

I don't know where Kwan, or Uncle Vick, or that fat kid, or anyone from last year is now.  

I've got to go.  I'm using the free clinic's office computer.  I have to mop up the group therapy room.  

I won't say I'm happy.  I will say that writing in this blog again makes me nervous.  I should never have done it.  Blogs and computers and television and cell phones and all pushes you back to hysteria.  And if you've been reading this blog, you know what hysteria can do.

I should never have gotten the psychotherapist to hack back into this blog for me.  I should just stop and erase all this.  But instead, I push the "publish" button...


Sunday, January 27, 2008

My Sister-The Late Tappy Marie

Dear God - it makes me sick the blatant disregard you people have for human life and common decency.

I am the sister of the late Tappy Marie, the "sickeningly sweet" social worker that Irv Rorg now claims his father killed on Thanksgiving Day 2006.  Irv admits he buried Tappy in their backyard to protect the name of his dear father, and admits he is in denial about the sociopathic illness of his dead dad.  Irv even tried to pin the murder on his own Uncle Vick.

According to you people, my dear sister had a voice that made "even the neighbor's pit bull cringe."  Is that reason enough to murder someone??

I'll admit, my sister and I were not close.  She was a "Blue Jay" and a "Campfire Girl" and she said that "love is what people without God are crying out to the hills for."  She used "Dippity Doo" on her hair, and her breasts were naturally perky enough to never need a bra.  Hell, she used to put makeup on her dolls.

I'm gay, and even lipstick lesbians would puke if they saw my sister's idea of blush.

Look, I just want justice.  I brought charges against Irv Rorg because he admitted to burying my sister in his backyard.  Now he has been released, his case dismissed.  

Man, so does that mean anybody can just go around burying people in their yards without the threat of punishment in this country?  I'm a dentist.  I work hard.  My sister was a git, but that doesn't mean someone shouldn't have to pay the penalty for her murder.

I'm sending this to John Edwards.  I have a root canal to finish up now and I'm damn mad!

Angry and Appalled,

Kate Marie (sister of Tappy)

Monday, January 21, 2008

The Good Side's been awhile.

All my friends and readers, it's me, Irv. I'm fed, clothed like a real person, and on my way back to Los Angeles.

I'll just say I'm somewhere south of Fresno, tonight.

Look, my case was dismissed even thought I admitted to stabbing my psycho uncle. It was self-defense. I'll miss all my friends in San Francisco, but I had to come back to my hometown.

In this case, I'm glad our justice system is overcrowded and corrupt. God, they had twenty of us in one cell. We had to take turns sitting on each other.

I've just got to pretend that my family and what happened with them, never happened. I've got to pretend that my uncle did not shoot my father dead last year.

I've got to focus on what's good in the world. I'm still fairly young. I've still got my looks. Just because psychotic behavior runs in my family, and just because I've participated in that behavior several times, does NOT mean I am a psycho also.

One thing I want to know, before I begin my new life. Why is Uncle Vick not back in jail when he broke parole and left LA?? He should be locked up. He's a menace. He should not be employed by "Complete Wrap" HMO. He should not be free!

I can't begin a new life as a stuntman without justice. I can't begin my new life as a stuntman until the fucking writer's strike is over.

Focus on the good. Focus on the good. Focus on the good.
Damn! It's so hard! So hard when there's so much bad...happening every day all the time.

My family messed me up. I've been drunk the last three nights in a row. I'm too old for this. I'll be drunk tonight. It's fuckin' freezin' in the San Joaquin Valley!

Looks like a full moon, too. I should bay at the moon like wolves do. Maybe that's how they focus on what's good.


Saturday, January 19, 2008

Bayview Police Precinct Purge

Although officially unreported, 14 men and women held in custody at the San Francisco Bayview Police Precinct were released January 1, 2008.  Overcrowding was sited as the reasoning behind the releases, however, organized crime and bribery are the real reasons.

I am anonymously reporting this on this blog, as Irv Rorg was one of those released.  His trial on December 21, 2007 had been postponed until later in January of this year, and has now been summarily dismissed.  Again, no official reason has been released.  I happen to know that Judge Kendra Munoz has been involved in many such 'dismissals' in the past, and has been seen driving a series of successively more expensive Mercedes.

Others released on January 1, 2008 in addition to Irving Rorg were:

Larry Went - held on charges of internet fraud and lascivious conduct in a mall.
Titra Gomez - held on charges of cooking meth in an elementary school assembly hall.
Madge - a transvestite held for disorderly conduct in a mosque.
Candy McCabe - prostitution with intent to kill.
George (no last name given) - looked like a terrorist.
Mitzaba Keblablazamtatbo - really was a terrorist.
Sandra - girlfriend of precinct officer who had "shot her mouth off" to him "one too many times."

No other names are available at this time.


Friday, January 18, 2008

Irv, where are you?

Dear Irv,

It's me, Kwan.  

Happy New Year, except I don't know where the hell you are!  The San Francisco police don't have you anymore.  They won't speak to me about you.  Even the fat kid, Marcus, says he doesn't know.

Everything seemed like it was going fine just a few months back.  You and I were together and we were going to do something with our lives.  How quickly things can change, right?

I paid that extortionist bald guy from the Pole Dance Palace five thousand dollars last week. Happy New Year my ass.

It was raining so hard and now that sun is out again, I don't feel it inside.  Things change too quickly.  When I was a little girl in Vietnam my father bred geese.  He had over five hundred geese in a huge shack out by the mountains.  It was hard to make them breed with each other, because geese are very inhibited.  Sometimes you'd have to physically place one goose on top of the other one to get them to mate.

One day, my little brother opened the gate and all the geese ran out onto a mine field that the army had not yet cleared from the war.  Well, we found out where all the mines were, and feathers caught in our hair in the wind, but we lost most of the geese.

My father was never the same after that.

And, Irv, I guess I'm trying to say, that this year is starting out ass-backwards for me.  No campaign.  No job.  No home soon.  And No Irv.

Make an entry here, or call me.


Saturday, January 12, 2008

Happy New Year from Uncle Vick

Hey buckaroos--

Uncle Vick is back in black! Been tryin' to log on to this blog for weeks, but it's been blocked with a notice posted: "Seized by the San Francisco Police Department."

Kwannie! You out there??

Look, I got me a new spleen from a guy I know at Complete Wrap Health Insurance. Put me first in front of more than 400 people waitin on a list. Hey, I'm an employee at an HMO, I should get first priority over all those subscribers, right? Spleen came from China, my bud said.

I'm outa the hospital and back at my house here in Southern California, watchin' my plasma TV, eatin' and wonderin' WTF my nephew did to ruin his whole life. He's up there in SF in jail because he stabbed me.

Hey police boyfriend up there! I drop the charges. Nobody died. Let Irv come home. I want him to live with me like he used to. He can get a job. Bring that hot ass Kwannie down here, too. Glad she gave up that Congress pipe dream!

It's lonely in this house. I miss the way it was last summer.

Let's start 08 off right!
your loving uncle,