Friday, August 21, 2009


I told my nurse to post this on the blog. I hope she did. I dictated it to her.

I, Victor Rorg, floated out of my body last night. Really high, too. I mean, man I was fuckin' up 30 feet. I guess I went through the ceiling somehow. I saw my own body in the hospital bed with the ventilator and all the other machines I get paid to deny people use of with Complete Wrap.

Boy, I need to lose weight. One thing leaving your body does is teach you how fat you really are! I saw my son, Irv, and Kwannie, and the kid. I love that kid. He's my grandson, you know. Yeah, kids' warped for a baby. Yeah, he swatted the nurse on the tush three times today, but hey, he's a Rorg, isn't he?

Poor Irv. I never told Irv he was my son. The story is so wrong and so twisted even for our family, that I thought I'd protect him.

Because ol' Uncle Vick is really a sweet guy...I am. I told the white light that, but the white light told me that I had sent too many people up to it by denying them medical treatment from Complete Wrap. I didn't want to get into an argument with the white light. I mean, you're not supposed to, are you? I never meant to have people die because I denied them treatments. Hey, I can't help it if Complete Wrap says chemotherapy is "experimental" and that an appendectomy is "cosmetic" and therefore not covered under our plan.

I agree with all the loud people in those health care reform town halls they show on the hospital TV.

I floated out of my body three times. I don't know if I came back. I told my nurse to write all this down and she's a dutiful nurse. She was in the army. She wouldn't kiss me, though.

I forgive Irv for shooting me. I forgive everyone for all the pain they've caused me. I even forgive the white light for criticizing me.

Strange, but I never thought I'd see a white light. No one ever talks about floating out of their body and seeing the flames of hell. Isn't that interesting? You'd think most people would see flames of hell instead of a white light.

I mean, we've all been pretty bad, haven't we?

(transcribed by Nurse Keenway Aug. 15 - before Victor Rorg was pronounced dead at 11 p.m. that night)

Sunday, August 9, 2009

I Shot My Uncle Last Night

I shot my uncle in self-defense last night. If typing this online is a confession, so be it.

Things go on and on and on sometimes, you know? You think they will never change, but it's you that has the power to change them. You get so tired of the same old habits. The same old life and the same old troubles.

I, Irv Rorg, shot Uncle Vick in the chest last night at the lake where Kwan and I have been living for the past month.

We were sitting by the mobile home we had rented, Kwan and I, and Sy the baby. We were roasting wienies (Sy's favorite food) and the baby was kicking the stuffing out of his Winnie the Pooh doll in his crib after earlier having tried to eat a pine cone.

Kwan's eyes grew wide as quarters and she elbowed me hard and we stared out at the dark pine trees and there was Uncle Vick breaking through the shrubbery in the firelight and he had a huge handgun in his right hand.

The baby shouted "Da Da!" when Vick got up to the fire. When Vick noticed the child and made eye contact and cooing noises, I kicked the gun from his hand and rolled on the ground and picked it up. Kwan grabbed Sy and staggered backwards.

The baby screamed and clutched for Vick. Vick took one step toward me. "Irv. I'm not your uncle. I'm your father."

And then, he grabbed for the Glock. I fired. He fell on his face next to the fire.

I threw the gun into the lake and we called the police.

Uncle Vick is in the Emergency Room here in South Lake Tahoe. They say he won't live long. The bullet punctured a lung.

Why would he say he was my father?

I was tired of the same old shit, and now I got my wish, some new shit!

Thank God, Kwan is here. Sy won't interact with us now. The baby just sits in his stroller and once he crossed his little arms. He won't even look at us.

What have I done?