Author Topic: Dear Doktor:  (Read 538 times)

Suu

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Dear Doktor:
« on: February 13, 2018, 06:19:56 pm »
I've been back in Florida now for 3 weeks, and I already want to submit my body to medical science for the duration of my husband's tour; thinking some kind of magic, 36 month coma. I've been given condolences by the locals for moving from San Diego, and congratulations that we were able to get a house in Jacksonville so we didn't have to live in Georgia. Whatever that means.

Everything is upside down. I burned incense today, and it somehow managed to light the other end of the stick from where my flame was. I just let it happen. The entire nation has gone full potato, and Florida is wondering why people are so upset, it's only Tuesday, but the raccoons drove off with the food truck.

My husband is confused by the locals. I've had to tell him that it's a different kind of Normal here. The kind where table saw blades on routers in the wood shop is a regular sight and it's okay to insult Hillary Clinton on restaurant menus. The desert made him terrified of rain, and he's perplexed that it actually goes INTO the ground, instead of running into the streets and killing people. He saw his first alligator yesterday and didn't know what to do. I've taken on his case as a personal anthropological experiment, since I can't actually work here, being that intelligence is illegal. We did find a library that is open 3 minutes a week, so there's that.

I've become a local celebrity of sorts. As the Floridian that actually came back to Florida. I'm also hated because everybody says so. As least, that's what my brain is telling me in between the screams. I haven't been able to get to the shrink yet, because the government let private insurance companies touch Tricare and now it's Broken, but I'm told everything will be fine as long as I don't act crazy outside of the house, because Florida will lock you up for 72 hours to make sure that you didn't catch brain eating amoebas from taking a shower. The tap water smells like bleach and tastes like the aquifer. Jeff keeps drinking it, even after I told him not to. Now we all know what happens next.

I guess I'm trying to say that I'm okay, for now. It's a whole hell of a lot of fun getting your life taken from you, because somebody with power had a bad night with his wife and took it out on your husband using a dart board and blindfold.

I can't wait until Hurricane Season, because I really don't like this house.

Best,
Suu
Sovereign Episkopos-Princess Kaousuu; Esq., Battle Nun, Bene Gesserit.
Our Lady of Perpetual Confusion; 1st Church of Discordia

"Add a dab of lavender to milk, leave town with an orange, and pretend you're laughing at it."

Doktor Howl

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Re: Dear Doktor:
« Reply #1 on: February 14, 2018, 12:23:01 am »
Dear Clementine Churchill,

Obviously, you should spend the 36 months here in Arizona, where we at least have bipeds.  It isn't good to spend that sort of time along among po'buckers.  You stand a very real risk of going native.  Are you ready for that?  Are you ready to vote for your own starvation, bray incoherently whenever you see a brown person, and put up with Disney thugs attacking each other outside the part?

Grab your shit, grab Squiddy and her dude, and get your ass back up here where things are SAFE.

Yours truly,
Baby Doc Duvalier
I was a teen-aged shit-poster; as you can see, the condition became chronic.

Suu

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Re: Dear Doktor:
« Reply #2 on: February 14, 2018, 01:36:44 am »
Dear Duke Doc Jezebel,

Problem is that I'm already native, except that part where I screamed at a palmetto bug yesterday, but the thing was at least 30 million years old and started singing selections from "A West Side Story". Jeff smashed him during his rendition of "Officer Krupke" and I just started laughing uncontrollably until I fell over the garbage can in the kitchen. He said he didn't hear him singing, but you know I'm telling the truth.

Raphaella lives in my part of town, but we're both too terrified to go outside and meet each other. There's Jacksonville out there.

I will inform Squid of your invitation, I haven't even finished unpacking the house. So I'm ready when you are. Put the brats on the grill.

Sincerely,

Orange you glad I didn't make a Florida pun?
Sovereign Episkopos-Princess Kaousuu; Esq., Battle Nun, Bene Gesserit.
Our Lady of Perpetual Confusion; 1st Church of Discordia

"Add a dab of lavender to milk, leave town with an orange, and pretend you're laughing at it."