Self Assasins

Mobe accomplished a bunch yesterday and felt invincible. I was quite pleased to say the least and even had the rest of the week figured out, as each day I am getting stronger and stronger despite what is thrown at me! True to form life pisses in my Cheerios and poos on my spoon!

I guess I had it coming the way I have been pushing myself and prodding myself and eyeing that pile of junk in the living room like is was a sexy centerfold I just had to get my fingers on and touch every square inch of. My body got jealous. Real jealous, to the point it decided it was going to be nasty and screw around with the strides I have made! It sent in the "self assasins" to do its deed! First it was my stomach. Nothing unusual about it as I hadn't ingested anything unapproved, but it kept pinching me and poking me and keeping me awake. I started to finally get comfort after putting the pillow under my leg and then my Benedict Arnold of a stomach decided to work for the other side full time and sent little telegraph messages to my legs seeing as they are closest allies to the abominable axis that was my stomach. The enemy opened fire all at once and there were bombs everywhere!

I could hear crying in the distance and it was primal and guttural in its need to convey the assault that was transpiring. It almost seemed as if it wanted to be heard from great distances and above the roar of the onslaught that was the infernal war taking place within my person! I think I cried for the poor agonizing soul, I'm not sure though. I tried to sleep through the battle and even sat up as pissed as a pole cat in a corner with ten coyotes closing in. My legs had a mind of there own and with each twitch and thrash my stomach seemed to feel better and even smile. It was disgusting how it gloated, in its revenge, and how well it took to winning this farce of a scrimmage, but took to it it did! Don't worry my pets, I was not to be out done and I will be damned if I'm going to yield to this revolt, this back stabbing traitorial act!

Armed with an old script of Vicodin from my root canal some three plus years ago, some cyclobenzaprine for night tremors that I haven't took in over a year since my bones have healed and a sweet little pill called Trazodone, I countered with the world's worst comeback known to inhuman kind! By all degrees I could have been mixing dutch cleanser with ammonia and bleach and would have gotten the same results save death! However, a win is a win, and when I awoke this afternoon after finally falling asleep at 7am, I could taste the swampy taste of success in my mouth. My body aches all over and I fear I only won one battle as the hurtful echos are reminding me they want another stab at overthrowing the government of Mobe, but I am prepared with chocolat, Traz, cyclo-vico, wine attack that will make my first win look like a bitch slap from a trans-sexual prostitute dressed like Zsa Zsa to a police officer!~mobe's love to you all and her all to her loves