Friday, August 11, 2006


My father, who had driven out to Bumfuck, Texas to see family friend Potato --- whose severely disabled only son may be dying --- was rear-ended. His car was knocked into the car in front of him, so both ends of the car are damaged. One of the passengers of the front car was carried out on a guerney with a neck brace, so it must have been some impact. My father says his neck doesn't feel too good either; hopefully he'll see a doctor soon. The woman who rear-ended him gave her insurance and all, so with luck everything will proceed seamlessly.

When I feel sorry for myself because I don't have kids and may not ever, I think of Potato, taking care of his poor wheelchair-bound son, wiping him and feeding him and watching him at all hours, and I tell myself to get off my pity pot. Potato --- in his 50s, divorced, alcoholic, just getting by financially, living in an RV in Bumfuck --- won't ever have another child, and the one he does have is deformed, unfinished, sent before his time into this breathing world scarce half made up.

The world is a sick machine breeding a mass of shit.

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