As I stepped out my door into the bright

As I stepped out my door into the bright sunlight I couldn't believe what I saw. There it was laying in the dirt next to my garage, it was massive, it was as big as a car.

It was a REALLY overweight parrot who had long since lost its ability to fly. "Pardon my weight, sir!" It said, then "*squark* don't eat me!". I looked at it and

thought seriously about fricasseed parrot for dinner, but then remembered how rather pungent they tasted, and not wanting to listen to it squark while I chopped off its head, I

decided to order Chinese instead. There was this place right around the corner that had the most delicious wonton soup. If only I could

eat like a normal person. My mouth was sewn shut by the Viet Cong back in '69. I got my nourishment through an IV ever since. "Go on," I signed. "Order the won ton soup. You can

pore it into my intravenous drip bag." I unbuttoned my jacket to show the bag. My date didn't bat an eye ordering wonton soup & egg fu yung in a blender. My cross stitch smile was

turned up at the corners. A half-hour later, the aroma of wonton soup wafted from my IV drip bag, and my date slurped a liquid meal through a bendy straw. It was most kind of her

And one year later, just remembering it gives me a headache. It is a year later now. A photographic memory is both a curse and a blessing. Take it from me. I know!

Oh, boo hoo, you have a photographic memory, how sad for you. Try knowing everything like I do, and then you will know true heartache from all directions and colors. Most of it is