Yeast Infection

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Yeast infection

I was dancing with a woman. She told me she had a yeast infection. I said. “Well. Bake me a
fucking loaf of bread. A couple of corn muffins, a jelly donut. I don’t give a shit. I’m always
in the market for quality-baked goods. You couldn’t squeeze a birthday cake out of that thing
by any chance, could you? No. No. I didn’t think so. No pressure, honey, no pressure at all.
Why don’t you just turn around and give me a nice pineapple upside-down cake. And a dozen
oatmeal cookies. Skip the raisins. Icksnay on the aisinsray.”

Coast-to-coast emergency

Well. I think it is certainly apparent by now that one of the things I enjoy in life is excess. I
like things that are excessive. I like excessive behavior. Excessive language. Excessive
violence. It’s fun. It’s interesting. It’s exciting. I like it when nature is excessive. That’s why I
like natural disasters. All these natural disasters that have been going on. I fucking love them.
I can’t get enough of them. Oh. When nature’s going crazy, throwing things around, scaring
people and destroying property, I’m a happy fucking guy. I’m a happy fucking guy. I look at
it this way, for centuries now man has done everything he can to destroy, defile and interfere
with nature. Clear-cutting forests, strip-mining mountains, poisoning the atmosphere, over
fishing the oceans, polluting the rivers and lakes. Destroying wetlands and aquifers. So when
nature strikes back and smacks man in the head and kicks him in the nuts. I enjoy that.

I have absolutely no sympathy for human beings whatsoever. None. And no matter what kind
of problem humans are facing whether it’s natural or man made. I always hope it gets worse.
Don’t you? Don’t you? Don’t you have a part of you, a part of you that secretly hopes
everything gets worse? When you see a big fire on TV, don’t you hope it spreads? Don’t you
hope it gets completely out of control and burns down six counties? You don’t root for a
fireman, do you? I mean I don’t want him to get hurt or nothin’ but I don’t want him putting
out my fire. That’s my fire. That’s nature showing off and having fun. I like fires.

You know something else I like? Those spring floods in the Midwest. Aren’t they great? Like
clockwork. Spring floods in the Midwest. But I’m starting to notice, I’m starting to catch on
that every year it’s the same story. Another flood in the same place with the same people on
the same river. SAME FUCKING PEOPLE! And these people do not move. They will not
fucking move. They repaint, put down new carpeting and wallpaper and they move right back
into the same fucking house on the flood plain next to the river and then they wonder why
grandma’s floating downstream with a parakeet on her head. Fourth time. Again. Fourth
fucking time. There’s no learning curve with these people. It’s very hard to feel sorry for
them. Every year same people. Same rowboats. Out there paddling around, rescuing a
chicken. What the fuck kind of a life is that? “Well. Our kids love it here.” Oh, really. What
do they got, gills? And while they’re showing all that action on the screen, the announcer is
saying to me, “It’s been raining steadily for three months now. The ground can’t hold any
more water. The river is cresting higher than it has in two centuries. The levies have washed
away” and I just hope it keeps raining, and raining, and raining, and raining, and raining, and
raining, and raining, and raining, and raining, and raining, and raining, and raining, and
raining, and it rains steadily for five years. And then after that. For ten years it’s cloudy with
occasional showers. And the river never returns to its natural banks. It becomes a completely
new river. And the borders of three states have to be changed. And all the maps and atlases
have to be redrawn and reprinted. And no one’s couch ever completely dries out. For years
and years, every time they sit down, there’s always a little squish. “Dan. Linda. Come on in,
you guys. Have a seat. Squish, squish.” I like that.

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