Oh, for  the love of Sweet Lady Gaga.

The old woman Slow has gone beyond the pale this time. She got a massage from Woman Without Walls this week and now she sits at her desk humming these meaningless words for h-o-u-r-s, well maybe not hours but when she’s on a roll, it seems like an eternity.

Ummmmmm….shrimp…clams…Lock.she.me.ay… …yamaha….ummmmm…shrimp…clams…lock.she.me.ay…yamaha

Are you kidding me? What does that MEAN exactly?? Mumbo Jumbo, as Granny Selma would call it when she was in her right mind. Slow told Pretty (who is equally unimpressed) that if she says those words for 40 days, we will have great prosperity. Whatever.

So far we are going in reverse. The Red Man went to see Hottie Doc Number Two yesterday and she stuck a long needle in Fred, which is what I call the big round thing the size of a baseball in my side. Hottie Doc 2 called Slow this afternoon and told her Fred is a Czar’s Coma which is not good evidently. So much for prosperity mantras. But then it’s only Day Three.

Well, Sports Fans, we will take the bad with the good because we have no choice. That’s the luck of the draw, and we’ve had one of the Best Rides ever. I was hoping to hang around for another year or two because I frankly don’t know if Pretty can take care of Slow without me. She’ll have her hands full, that’s for sure.

Maybe Fred will go easy on moi and keep me around for entertainment.

Get me outta here, Percy…The Red Man needs a sip of The Remedy…