Roote, the boss of this institution, has allowed me access to the internet cobweb for 20 minutes today, so I have elected to use this time to tell my readers about my daily life in Dundee's Home for the Irretrievably Demented. It is with no small amount of shame that I must admit that I have squandered 12 of my allotted minutes in considering the user comments on King Ralph on the IMDB (Internet Movie Database (IMD)). You must understand that some hapless goon had suggested that the title role would have been better played by John Candy, so I felt compelled to register on the website to (a) champion Goodman, and (b) patiently tell this boob exactly why he was incorrect. You will appreciate that I could not let his comment go uncontested.
That said, I will now use my remaining four minutes to give you a flavour of my daily life. It is a wretched and debasing existence. My lower lip trembles, my eyes blur, and my sweetbreads wince as I write these miserable words. Nurse Pawl forces all inmates to rise each morning at 3am (we are allowed a long lie until 3:15am on Sundays), and we are roused into consciousness by a cold shower and a breakfast of flax and powdered limpet shells. Our daily thrashing is administered at 4:00am by a lumpen Irishman named Nurse Pugg Muckle, who has needlessly huge knuckles and mighty belt buckles. We are then forced into the 'Labour Room' where we must toil for hours crafting trinkets to titillate the noveau-riche. At 12:00, we are given sleeping draughts and innumerable concoctions that keep us comatose until 3:00pm, thereby avoiding the need to provide us with luncheon. If it is not a Wednesday, when we are taken on our weekly outing (invariably to the local cattery), then we are permitted to watch Quincy until 4:00pm. We then receive the second of our daily beatings to keep us occupied until teatime at 5:00pm, after which we are dosed with cheap gin and ether, and forced to play carpet bowls until 7:00pm lights-out.
Now of course, I, alone of all the inmates, am permitted the additional luxury of 20 minutes daily to type words onto the internet. Alas, I must go now, for those 20 minutes have now elapsed.
I must escape this place soon or else I will go mad.
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2 comments:
I did not see your message on IMDb - I suspect the warden is monitoring your interweb activity to ensure you do not enter into confrontations.
--a friend on the inside--
Thank you 'friend'. This information has been duly noted on a miniature slate that I keep taped to the underside of my bed, where no one will find it.
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