Lithium as an after dinner mint
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2005-04-07 04:26:43 (UTC)

Fantasy Island

Remember that old show? It was on Saturday nights after the
Love Boat. That was a decade or two removed. I always loved
to watch the people who came onto the island with unresolved
issues....a path not taken. Mr. Roarke would boom in his
deep voice..."Smiles everyone...Welcome to Fantasy Island."
I often wondered about Tattoo. I wonder if late one night
after everyone had gone to bed he decides to pour himself a
few fingers of good blended whiskey. Maybe he digs out a bag
of the makings and rolls himself a tight quirley. He sits in
the dark and just drinks... Roarke walks by, sees Tattoo
staring at the wall. "What is the matter Tattoo? " Our
diminative friend exhales and looks Roarke in the eye. "
"Boss." he says. " I have been thinking. Every day some
doorknob comes ashore and whines about how he didn't catch
the winning touchdown, or if only he had become a Navy
Seal...whatever..and then you do your hocus pocus and boom!
Shitroast! They get their wish. I've been working here for
years...running my ass off and telling you that frickin'
plane is coming. What do I get...nothing. Not a damn thing.
It ever enter your head that maybe...just maybe.. I would
like to live a day or two as something other than a damn
midget. You ever try and get something off the top shelf
there Mr. Khan? You ever try and email with these short
stubby fingers...it sucks man..really sucks...and
women....damn Roarke...I need me a woman. I got some burning
midget loins that are fixing to bust. So what say...how
about it?"
Roarke looks sad. "Oh Tattoo....you know it is not good for
someone of your stature to drink...tsk tsk. Better sleep it

I think of this stuff....maybe I watched too much television
as a young lad...or maybe...the air is thin on your planet.

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