Was scrolling through my old blog entries and chanced upon a really old one last year when I was mocking, ridiculing, debasing, and all-around laughing at Smoketh’s state-of-affairs as an unpaid fellow, in particular her poverty. How she would roll her car over a tube of toothpaste just to squeeze out any remaining Beam toothpaste, and how she would ask for the used ABG cups so she could drink the remaining water in it. In pure poverty. She was a prune, but now she is a self-confessed blossoming “cherry”. Her word, not mine.
“A blossoming cherry waiting to be popped.” My words.
“Do you pop cherries?” she and enjh asked. Obviously they haven’t had any experience with porn.
“Yes. Smoketh, you can ask Churfuck (her boyfriend) to pop your cherry. You can say, ‘Churfuck, please pop my cherry’. But practice saying it or you might accidentally say, ‘Churpop, please fuck my cherry’.” Although either way it’s the same idea.
But now, poor, ugly, old, and dry, I am the prune. A poor, ugly, old, dry prune. And how could I forget rusty. Just a couple of months off residency and it already takes much effort to remember things. For instance an OB resident accosted me and asked how to compute for dopamine, and whereas before I would mouth it off automatically in the generic teaching-teachingan Gen Med voice (there’s the generic Gen Med senior voice that I couldn’t quite describe), this time I suspect the OB resident could my hear the clunky tiny gears in my head turning as I struggled to remember. I remembered it eventually, but not after a few brain cells popped and died to produce the information.
Prune. What can you do with a prune. Nothing. Except give it to constipated people.