Saturday, July 26, 2008

Paternity

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."

Irv

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).

GAAArrrgh!!!!

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.

GAAAARRRGGG!!!

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 ....

GGGGGAAAARRRWWWWWKKKKKK!

Sincerely,

Kwan

Monday, July 14, 2008

Well...?

Uncle Vick on the Electronic Blaster here!

Well...?

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.

Irv