Durka-Durka-Muhammed-Jihad....
I have no idea what that means, but I've seen it so many times in the last few days that now I hear myself saying/muttering it about 500 times a day.
I mean, I know Muhammed is a name and jihad is war, right?So, what's a durka?
Is it that that towel/diaper/head dress thing?
Or, is that a burka?
See?
I dunno... It's what's on top at Mikey's.
That's all I really know. That and that "Please, God... help Mike" is just about every other thought goin' through my head. "Gotta go to work..."
"Please, God... help Mike."
"Need to go to the store."
"Please, God... help Mike.
"Aw man. This one's gonna hurt." (Said when I load up the shit bucket way too full to lift easily...)
"Please, God... help Mike."
"Gotta do this, gotta do that, gotta go here, gotta go there."
"PLEASE, please God... help Mike." I mean, really, God... please don't take him, okay?
Let him stay here with us and with his family, his daughter.
They need him.
We need him. He does so much good for so many people.
That huge, bright smile of his has helped me more than I ever said. I mean, he knows, 'cause I've told him more than once.
I've told him how utterly heroic he is and several times, when I've just wanted to lay down and die under all the pressure and all the bullshit, he's gone out of his way to lift me back up, set me on my feet and keep me going. His way of dealing with and living his life impressed me so very much that, as a surprise, I told Pixy about him and Pixy made a space for him at Munu.
Man, that was awesome when Mikey found out!
He loved it...
And, ran with it. I've got pictures of him.
I've got pictures he sent me of his cats.
Did you know he calls the treats he gives them "nummies"?
He does and that, right there, is more than enough to make me fall apart.
He is so sweet and so goodhearted, so smart- engineering- so... Mikey.
God... please, man.
Don't do it. You took Stevie Ray, Jim, Jimi, Janis, my Grandpop, Storm, Terry, over 100 of my friends, loves, teachers and acquaintences in high school alone... please don't do it again.
Not this time. Look man... that mean woman from the restaurant back in Bucks, Joanie... remember her, God? Well, she's had MULTIPLE strokes/aneurysms- whatever- and she's still here, being all mean and nasty to just everybody for no reason at all. If you can let her go on... how can you not let Mike? This world NEEDS guys like him.
Not s'much bitches like her.
Know what I mean? So, how about it?
Please help him.
Please don't take him. Please?
Just this once? Gotta go to work now.
Please, God.. help Mike.
Back later.
Please, God.. help Mike. Peace, y'all
Please, God.. help Mike.
Comments
Processing 0.01, elapsed 0.0044 seconds.
16 queries taking 0.0034 seconds, 7 records returned.
Page size 5 kb.
Powered by Minx 0.8 beta.