It's even better if your pillows and sheets are the same color as your pills because this way it's like camouflage.
You do this every day for a week and then when no one's trying to watch you masturbate you swallow every pill under your pillow at the same time.
This is the best way to do something to yourself if you want to.
So far two things happen when I do this to myself and neither of them is good unfortunately.
The first is I fall asleep and then I wake up because my stomach feels like Charlie has been pummeling it into oblivion. I am sweating even more than usual and then I have to throw up like Charlie used to when I gave him the raw eggs and milk. I throw up for a long time and then I feel better but I am even more dehydrated than usual and they have to give me fluids.
Then the doctors come in here and take my uniform from me and they take my pillow from me too because they know that's where I hid all the pills.
Whenever they do this I tell them they're not as dumb as they look.
The second way to do something to yourself is to take off your helmet and ram your head into the wall over and over.
This way doesn't work as well for two reasons.
The first is it gives you a horrible fucking headache every time. It doesn't matter what part of your head you ram into the wall either.
The second reason is even if you know they're not trying to watch you masturbate they can hear you ramming your head into the wall so they rush right in and make you stop. Most times you can only get three or four rams in before this happens.
Then four of them come in and hold you aloft with each one holding a separate limb. You say this is what it feels like to be drawn and quartered and they say why do you make us do this to you.
This time they fasten your helmet onto your head so you can't take it off and they tie your body to the bed so you can't get up. They tie down your arms and legs so you can't do anything with yourself.
You can't even masturbate which serves them right.
Should the phone ring I will say the hello how are you and not give the person on the other end a chance to answer. I will follow up the hello how are you with I'm not feeling well today the insides of my thighs are rubbed raw and I can't walk myself around anymore and this morning I finally thought to rub the baby oil on the chafed parts and that brought some relief but it doesn't change that my brother Charlie is who knows where and my hand hurts from all the masturbating and I don't know if the ice cream truck will come around again.
Then if the person on the other end is still there I will ask if they are the ice cream truck and why won't they come around.
This is another thing my hand hurts now. I don't think they care about my hand hurting is what I think. This is why I think these doctors are cruel and unusual because I know they want me to masturbate in the first place. They are the ones who don't give me a television to watch and they are the ones who give me baby oil so I won't chafe. Maybe I could live with my hand like this if I had a television to watch or if the phone could dial out but certainly not otherwise.
I tell this to the doctor with the white coat and clipboard so that maybe he might give me something for my hand but all he does is write it down on his clipboard and say I am getting better.
I don't know if he means I am getting better at masturbating or what. I know they watch me masturbate and compile the data but I don't know if I am getting better at it. To me I've always been a good masturbator.
I tell them I can't draw with my hand like this.
This is why I don't think this doctor is a real doctor. I think he might be the original Charlie Robertson playing the part of the doctor. I think this might be summer stock is another way of saying what I'm saying.
Last week I finally had a conversation with this hypothetical doctor and it proves my point.
The hypothetical doctor said how are we doing today Johnny.
I said I'm doing fine Massa how are you.
This is the calling each other Johnny game we sometimes have to play except now I call him Massa instead.
The hypothetical doctor said my doctor wants me to walk and my wife wants me to walk so I go for walks now. I walk along the sound's shoreline which curves and bends its way into a row of houses on either side of the walkway. A retaining wall keeps the water from the road and from the houses on the other side of the road. It's hard to imagine waves tall enough to reach one or the other.
I said to him this is what happens when you don't get killed off in your prime Massa.
I said the doctors and wives conspire against you and make you do these things.
Then the hypothetical doctor said sometimes my legs burn when I exert myself so sometimes the walk takes longer than it should. When this happens I'll find a bench and look out across the sound and wait until the burning stops. The burning starts when I feel my calves tighten and then it's like I've got scotch whiskey instead of blood flowing from my knees down into my ankles.
I said this is exactly how my hand feels when I masturbate.
The hypothetical doctor said I didn't mention my legs burning to the doctor. I'm not someone who likes to tell people what's wrong with me. I told my wife over dinner and now my wife thinks I'm dying.
She sounds a lot like my brother Charlie I said to him next.
The hypothetical doctor said my wife says I'm going to die from cancer. I don't have cancer but my wife thinks I'll die from it anyway. She says it'll be my prostate or liver or colon. She doesn't say how she knows this but she says it'll be horrible. She says she doesn't want to spoon-feed me soup and sponge my body down and change my soiled underclothes to watch me die like that.
I'm not sure that's what happens to you when you get cancer but I pretend otherwise for the sake of conversation.
So I said is that so Massa.
The hypothetical doctor said when she says this to me I sing back to her I don't have a husband he don't play the trombone. She laughs when I do this.
That sounds like what me and Charlie would do for Mother during the commercials except most of our songs were about the kamby bolongo until Mother would threaten us with a ladle is what I said back to him.
Then I said how is your vibrato holding up.
The hypothetical doctor said what I mean to say is I'm not sure walking will keep any of that god awful business from happening or if the burning in my legs means the cancer has already started. My wife is a good woman and I don't want her to have to go through that business to watch me die like that. I don't care what happens to the doctor or what he has to go through.
I said I know what you mean by that.
The hypothetical doctor said then we look at each other like we've been married for twenty-five years with no end in sight. It's a nice moment between us. This is when she tells me to go for a walk after our dinner of broiled chicken and mashed potatoes and that I should eat more vegetables. Then we talk about the retaining wall and the road and the houses along the shore and I pick up where I left off after he don't play the trombone. We both start laughing this time and we don't stop until after the food gets cold.
I said it sounds exactly like me and Charlie except what we had for dinner was sandwiches and coleslaw and ice cream but only when Mother was away those two summers.
I told him I would draw a special picture for him. I said the next time you come in here remind me and I'll show it to you.
My idea for his special picture is to draw a stick doctor walking along the sound's shoreline and then dying of cancer right on the spot.