Old Woman, Come Home.

Old Woman, when are you coming home? Why don't you call me? I know your daughter has that call anywhere phone service, and I can;t afford long distance. Anyway, I have a ld blocker on my phone, as you darn well know. Why don't you answer your email? Why don't you turn on your IM? Dammit! You are not supposed to get incommunicado. I know you're not sick because I found you on one of your blogs after you finished. I checked this one, your art blogs, your personal but not private ones and finally found where you had posted about 10 books on one of your war blogs. Looks like about a 2 day and 2 nighter. Right? Who ruffled your damn feathers this time? That Walter Reed crap, right. Now I guess you're crashed and burned. Aha, I know you'll check this blog when you wake up. So you'd better call me, IM or email or come the hell home.

Nobody groans at me if I come knocking before the sun is up. No one frowns at me when I cuss. I ripped out some real shockers yesterday and some of the black ladies in your lobby about fainted but nobody said anything. I think they were scared to. Nobody yaps at me about crap I barely understand or fusses about my diet. I put out your last batch of little green soldiers all by myself. Poor me. I don't like it when you stay gone. Will you puhleeze get your old greatgrandma butt home???!!! I miss you, dammit. The Wild Child said you were at her house yesterday so why didn't you call me? Buttons and Bows said you and Wild Child came by her house. So why didn't you swing by mine? I am feeling very neglected and abused. So is your bob tailed cat.
And don't you fuss at me for using the blog as a message center. It's your own fault; you ought to call me. Or check your email.