Ok, I’ve never been into drugs, but these things (stupid pills) have not been working. I look like a chipmunk and I’m honestly afraid that my facial epidermis cannot stretch any more than it has already–and I worry also for afterwards, in fear that I’ll have terrifying stretch marks on my cheeks like pregnant women have on their bellies, because it looks like both my cheeks have buns in the ovens and are about to pop something terrifying out of there.
"Need druuuuuugs!"
So yeah, Dr. Burger (and what the hell kind of name is that for a guy who pulls teeth and gives patients sheets of things they can’t eat, which includes burgers) why didn’t you give me the good stuff? I wouldn’t mind staying in that operating room for a week if you kept me on that special gas; I wouldn’t even mind the IV, even though that thing freaked me out. I still remember the rubber band somebody put on my upperarm to thicken the vein you needed to STAB. You stabbed me, sir, once in the arm, and once in the back with a bottle of these WEAK pills.
And you know what? I need pills. I need fricken stronger pills. I don’t even care if I go through drug withdrawal. I’ll suffer through that. I’ve decided.
And besides. It might even be a good lesson. (1. don’t get your teeth pulled out again, 2. don’t worry about getting fat, being unable to eat is the worst thign EVER, 3. tell your doc you have a resistance to pills and need the hard stuff, because this is not fun. NOT FUN., 4. the real lesson would be not to do drugs, because they are evil, except for the pain killing kind.)
And I look like a chipmunk. I keep worring something is going to fall out the sides of my face, my cheeks are so huge.I want to go out. I’m so sick of mashed potatoes that if I eat anymore, I’ll throw up.
I’m goign to go lie down now.
