Day in the Life of an Urbanized Redneck, Cornfed [you can read anyone txt] 📗

Day 1 – The Jewish Sopranos

Dear Diary,

Sorry it’s been so long.

When was the last time? When I was 15? Yes, that was about the time I understood what testosterone was really about. I won’t bother catching you up on how my life has turned out but it’s been a roller coaster.

I am really getting tired of working for the Sopranos. That’s what this company feels like; a Jewish version of the Sopranos.

“You are only as good as your last score. We have numbers to meet” is the only motivation.

Jewish mobsters run a different game than the Italians. You won’t get shot but you won’t be able to enjoy breakfast either.

I need a vacation. I don’t feel so good right now.

Love,
Russ


Dear Russ,

I’ll see what I can do.

Love,
Diary




Day 2 - The Meningitis Breakdown

Dear Diary,

Camp Kennestone Hospital was not exactly the kind of vacation I had in mind. I remember many years ago, when I wrote in my Diary about my need to write a funny story for the school paper. That night my new puppy broke out of his box and took a big doggy-poop down the vents. The heater was running and, by morning, the entire house smelled like poop. At school, all of my classmates were checking their shoes since my clothes smelled like canine landmines.

However, the highschool editor was impressed with the story. I was popular for a while. It all started with a Diary entry.

Why in the world did I get meningitis? I mean, they put needles into my spine to figure out what I had. God could have just written them a note or something. Why not a cold so I can take a vacation? Better yet, is it so hard for God to drop me down some extra money so I could quit work and live in Thailand for a few months?

Thailand, yes, that would have been more ideal for vacation.

But, no, I’m sitting in the hospital bed with IV’s and nurses want to take my blood at 4 AM.

At least I have you to talk to.

Love,
Russ


Dear Russ,

It’s going to get better. Don’t eat the hospital food.

Love,
Diary



Day 3 - The Meningitis Breakdown Continues

Dear Diary,

I’m still stuck in the hospital. They don’t know if I have bacterial or viral meningitis and it takes a while for the spinal fluid culture tests to show the true problem. It’s so hard to pee, dragging that IV unit behind me. My girlfriend is here though. She has been helping keep me remain sane. And, to be honest, writing to you has helped me out tremendously. I don’t have much to say right now. But thanks for being there.

Love,
Russ


Dear Russ,

There is a bottle next to your bed. Pee in that.

Love,
Diary



Day 4- Good News

Dear Diary,

So, apparently it’s not the worst case of meningitis there is. It’s viral when means that they have to run more blood tests to figured out what caused it. Bacterial would have been harder to deal with. From what I can gather, to find out what caused the meningitis to begin with, they are checking for some pretty nasty stuff. Epstein Barr, HIV, Herpes, Syphilis, and a bunch of other infectious diseases I’ve never heard of.

My girlfriend didn’t like the idea of them testing me for those sexually transmitted diseases. I thought it was funny, at least until I looked up Syphilis chancre sores. Those things look nasty.

Here’s hoping my past hasn’t caught up to me.

I cannot wait to get out of here. I need a drink. And some sex.

Love,
Russ


Dear Russ,

Wear condoms. Why haven’t you told me about all this fun you had?

Love,
Diary


Day 5- Time For A Drink

Dear Diary,

They decided to release me from the hospital since viral meningitis has no cure but time and the blood work will take 2 more days to get back. My girlfriend is coming to pick me up and she has already informed me it’s time for a stiff drink. I wonder if a stiff drink will loosen up my stiff body? It has not been fun lying in that bed 24 hours a day.

Of course, I’ll take it easy this week. They gave me Percocet. I wonder what will happen if I take those while I’m enjoying a drink tonight?

Love,
Russ


Dear Russ,

You are too much.

Love,
Diary


Day 6- Slow Day in Paradise

Dear Diary,

Last night was really fun. I needed a pick me up like that. Granted, I couldn’t have sex…not everything was able to rise to the occasion. I’m blaming meningitis.

I’m not quite sure what to do with myself today. I’m lying in bed as I write to you. I have been too scared to drive lately as it’s hard enough walking up and down the stairs. However, I have you know, that before I got sick, I was doing good on my workouts. For 38, I feel like a rockstar.

I may not look like one right now though. Wonder if my girlfriend will miss her face cleanser?

My dog pissed on the floor as a welcome home present.

Well, maybe tomorrow will be better.

Love,
Russ


Dear Russ,

Put on the Doors. Track 8.

Love,
Diary



Day 7- The Quiet Monkey

Dear Diary,

I went to the zoo today. Can you believe it? I got out and my girlfriend drove me to the zoo. Of course, I hobbled around and didn’t have much energy but it was good to see the sun again. I don’t like looking at caged animals though. Then again, I’m sure my dog doesn’t appreciate fence in the back yard either. It’s for his protection though.

To be honest, I had a good time until I got to the monkey cage. The one animal I never expected to see sleeping in the shade at the zoo was the monkey. Most of them were bouncing around their cage, screaming at all of us humans, and showing their glistening teeth in an attempt to tell us what was on their mind.

They seemed pissed.

But there was a quiet monkey sitting in the back of the cage. He didn’t look old, just almost sedated, as if there was some quiet acceptance he had about his plight. He was going to die in that cage.

I’m worried Diary. I don’t want to die in a cage. I want to do so much with my life but nothing has been really panning out the way I had envisioned it. I don’t even know what to do anymore.

That’s all I got. I am the only person who goes to the zoo and gets depressed I guess.

Love,
Russ


Dear Russ,

Monkey see, monkey do. You are not a monkey. Stop it.

Love,
Diary



Day 8 – I Feel Like Sam Kinnison

Dear Diary,

Work is telling me that I only have 5 sick days I can use and that the rest of my time off until I get well will come from my vacation days. They did say I could work a few hours a day to compensate.

Can you believe this?

I went outside and screamed some very nasty language at the sky. I just don’t give a shit about work anymore.

I tell ya, I’m going to fly to Los Angeles and have some fun. Screw this. They can take my vacation. I don’t care about them anymore.

Time to book a ticket for an afternoon flight to Los Angeles, sick or not.

Love,
Russ


Dear Russ,

Get an aisle seat. It’s a long flight.

Love,
Diary




Day 9 – Why Am I So Lucky?

Dear Diary,

I don’t understand why I can do some of the craziest things but still not get into trouble. It’s late, I’m drunk, and I should be in jail right now.

When I arrived to the airport, I noticed a Yellow Corvette at the rental counter. Convertible. Black stripes. I couldn’t help myself. The gas pedal couldn’t help itself either. I got up to 140 MPH on Highway 101. How I avoided being pulled over is beyond me.

I did get pulled over on Hollywood Boulevard for racing. I had no idea there was a cop car behind me. They were pretty upset that they couldn’t keep up. I was only doing 60 or so but, well, I got there pretty quickly. They said the speed limit was 35. I never noticed it.

They wanted to take me to jail for reckless driving and endangerment of the locals. But, when none of us could figure out how to turn the car off, it was so funny…the cops were laughing too hard to stay mad. They only wrote me a ticket. I didn’t know the button I used to start the Corvette up was also the button that turned it off.

Can you believe it?

Why am I so lucky to have the money to fly to Los Angeles on a whim, drive a Corvette at dangerous speeds, get pulled over by the cops, get away with only a small traffic violation, and then lie in my hotel bed at night without a scar or a worry?

My life has always been like this it seems. Why am I so lucky?


Love,
Russ


Dear Russ,

There is a God. That Corvette thing was dumb, by the way.

Love,
Diary



Day 10 – I Still Have The Magic

Dear Diary,

I love shooting pool. I went out to a bar on Hollywood Boulevard tonight and played pool for 3 hours straight. “The winner keeps playing” were the rules. I didn’t lose until I got tired of watching grown men, with their egos drawn, walk over to their girlfriends and complain about the pool stick being crooked.

I got so tired of it, I just started running the table from start to finish. I feel so good right now. I think I’ll just eat what’s in the mini-bar. I don’t feel like room service.

Most of the day, I just lounged around and watched a weird crowd of people gather as a DJ was performing in the lobby of the hotel. I couldn’t tell the men from the women to be honest.

I also looked up the location of the Malibu home where Two and a Half Men is supposedly filmed. Malibu seems nice. Maybe I could live there one day? I only need 5 million for a decent spot. How can I make 5 million?

And I didn’t drive to the bar. I walked. No way I’m letting that Corvette get loose again.

Love,
Russ


Dear Russ,

It’s the