The city that rhymes with fun

I have spare Risperdal coming out of my ears. I don’t know what to do about it. There were two weeks when I could find any and thus didn’t take any (bad me), but I did find them eventually. But anyway, now I have boxes of the stuff I don’t need. I don’t know what to do with it. I should probably take it back to the pharmacy, but how embarrassing.

My tattoo is healing nicely. I’m down in Regina today visiting my cousin Deanna. She’s got a really nice apartment.

I don’t feel like such a victim of the psychiatric establishment anymore. My last psych trip was quite nice really, except I hated sharing a room, oh man. You can’t masturbate! Some people can masturbate in the shower, but I need more time than that. It’s such a chore sometimes really.

Today I am off to see the Warhol exhibit at the art gallery. Then maybe to WOT to get a weird t-shirt or something.

Except there is no phone here. Oh man! That sucks! I’ll have to walk somewhere and call a cab. Poop.

Well, I had better be off!

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