Thompson’s Theories of Diet and Health

[Patchez]

I didn`t know that

Well that explains the smell.

[Thompson]

Goddamn it! I can’t for the life of me get my boots on. What will they think if I don’t have my boots on?

[oettinger]

There`s some weirdo here hiking in the woods barefoot in fall weather.
I think people would think that you are retarded honestly.
Get some nice slippers atleast. Then people would just think that you are drunk white trash.
That`s what passers by must think when I let the dog out wearing drunkard gear, sweaters and grandpa style slippers.
But who cares right?!

[Thompson]

Yeah, who cares. I was going to die with my boots on, but I didn’t die, which was lucky, because I didn’t have my boots on.

[Thompson]

Nausea, is that you?

Yes, Thompson, who do you think it is?

Well I can’t see, I mean I can sorta see but I can’t make anything out, your face is all blurry.

Yeah, it’s me. I’m on my way to the liquor store and stopped by to see if you might need anything.

Well, that’s a hellava nice thing to do, Nausea.

Thompson, you look and smell bad, real bad.

Yeah, I know. I’ve been sitting on the plastic blue bucket since midnight for six hours grunting and pushing and all that happened was the bucket collapsed and fell in on itself and I fell into to the bottom of the bucket.

Tired you out, did it?

Yes.

What you going to do now?

Nothing. I’ve given up for now. However, if you can see your way clear to secure a quart of Budweiser and a touch of the hard I’d be most appreciative. Here, take the infinite one dollar bill along.

[Nausea]

Here ya go, T:



Sorry it took so long. I got lost perusing the Scotch aisle.

[oettinger]

Thompson?

[Thompson]

Ladybug, you in there?

Who is it?

Who the fuck you think it is? Open this door! What’s with the chain lock?

Thompson?

No, it’s Santa Claus. Let me in Goddamn it. I gotta lie down on the couch before I pass
out. I’ve already fallen down twice trying to get up these concrete steps. You’ve got that lousy music of yours on way too loud and it is dulling your brain. That contraption at the foot of the seps is what is left of my brand new walker. Can you maybe go down and bring it in? I’ll pound it back into place in a few days. I have to rest and stare at the wall. Bring me one of those bottles of lemonade you keep in the fridge.

Where have you been?

I’ll tell you bits and pieces later. Put the chain lock back on the door and don’t let anybody in. Thanks Ladybug, it’s good to be home. Come give me a hug.

[Thompson]

Thompson went into the hospital weighing 147 lbs. He was discharged almost two months later weighing a whopping 97 lbs. He was hated by all the nurses and tortured by the doctors. He had this mass, you see, or ball, lodged in his colon, and the ball refused to move. He was given a liquid diet of several high powered laxatives which caused him to shit the hospital bed every time he farted, which was every fifteen minutes. He was also given seven different antibiotics for good measure I guess but the ball remained. He had two barium enemas which I would not wish on friend or foe or even Hugh, but the ball remained. He wore a wrist band that identified him as a fall risk and an alarm screamed out on the ward if he tried to get out of bed. He was coming off a month long bender and the early days of the hospital stay are lost.

[Nausea]

He was discharged almost two months later weighing a whopping 97 lbs.

That's Auschwitzian. Time to go on a pizza diet.

Good to see you.

[oettinger]

Can`t they surgically remove that thing?

[Patchez]

At least Thompson is still on the right side of the dirt!

Bacchus be praised!

[Thompson]

Can`t they surgically remove that thing?

They can, yes, but they have to see it first. Thus the unpleasant barium enemas (sp).

Oetts, how do I set the table to see All new posts? For instance if I hadn’t wandered over to Diets and Health I wouldn’t have seen your or Patchez’s posts.

[Thompson]

This is not my kind of place, but it is the closest. It’s only two point two blocks (Jesus loves me after all) away from what I thought was my pad but according to Ladybug it is her pad. It’s a sports bar, no smoking even outside but fuck that. Who me? I’m not smoking, what you see and smell is farts. I fart continuously and you might mistake the smell and smoke for a cigarette. You are mistaken, sir.

It’s not only a sports bar but a micro brewery joint (16 micro brews) and they sell six packs to go. Six Packs To Go! Goddamn. Most of the brews are over 5%. They have food too. Mexican stuff with shit I’ve never heard of and do not understand. When I work up the energy I’m going to walk there and order the ‘John Wayne’ dinner for thirteen bucks and have the ‘Coffee Break’ ale at 7.5%. Then I will get a six to go. I was surprised they don’t do shots of tequila or any hard for that matter. But two point two blocks. The bodega with the hard (Burnett’s) is three point five blocks. The corner bar where I sometimes go to wait for the bodega to open at seven is four point five blocks out of pocket. But they treat me okay and let me eat my grits and eggs on the back table.

[Thompson]

Thompson was feeling better. He knew this because his mind kept going to the Eskimo strippers. He missed the Eskimo strippers and Big Nate and the whole gang, the rope, and the next caper was forming in his frontal lobe. Since the rope was still living relatively large from the casino heist and the drug store robbery, Thompson was working on an altruistic approach. “If dogs run free, why can’t we?”

So the prison break was set in motion. This would be the most daring and technically challenging since the gang, the rope, was first formed. Everybody voted that Hugh should be excluded (too busy getting published and giving poetry readings in every bowling alley west of the Mississippi) and that Badfellow should call the shots. He had plenty of experience behind bars and was a no nonsense sort of fellow. Plus Badfellow spent a good deal of time in Alaska, where shit like this was commonplace. Headquarters would still be at Little Nate’s and Oettinger would be in charge of the vodka supply. Oettinger sluffed off on the last caper and Thompson was going to make sure he didn’t sluff off on this one.

A meeting was called.