My wife was to have an additional mammogram or something this afternoon, and I was set to go to Keyport to get us some nice seafood. She got me to take her to the hospital. “We have lots of time,” she said. “What they want to do only takes a few minutes.”
Ninety minutes later… Well, at least they didn’t find anything wrong with her. I was wondering just what was going on back there. Finally I went to the desk and asked if my wife had been carted off or something–at which point she magically appeared.
In the interval, the guy I was talking to fell asleep and I resorted to the magazines. Entertainment Something-or-Other. I can’t even guess who would find any of this stuff entertaining.
On the TV, a lot of rather obese people were going wild over a couple of celebrities I never heard of. The celebrities looked like they would’ve been more at home on some of those posters you see in the post office. One of them had a very small and kind of pointy head.
I got an idea for a really dumb movie. Crocodile Dundee Goes to Australia. Surprisingly, it wasn’t being hyped in this misbegotten magazine. For those too young to know about Crocodile Dundee movies, Mr. Dundee lived in Australia so he wouldn’t need to go there.
Anyway, that’s how come I didn’t blog this afternoon…