Matt Myftiu

Observations from an OR waiting room

Waiting.
Sitting.
Worrying.

Reading three-year-old Sports Illustrated magazines is more interesting than you might think. How did I miss all this stuff? Oh yeah, that was back when the only sport I cared about was smoking weed. Those were the days.

Waiting.
Sitting.
Worrying.

Why don't they make these goddamn chairs long enough to sleep on. These assholes are making me curl up like a fetus. On an unrelated note, I want to kill Regis Philbin and everyone responsible for him being on television. The fact that people wake up and willingly decide they want to hear this asshole yell at them for an hour or two is absolute proof that the world is full of complete morons who will unfortunately procreate and produce generation after generation of mindless sheep who will refer to people like Britney Spears as “recording artists“ or shudder “singers,” yet don't know even know who Leonard Cohen or Tom Waits are.

Waiting.
Sitting.
Worrying.

Why is everyone so fat?

Update. Things going as planned. Good times.

Waiting.
Sitting.
Worrying.

Wow. That man can barely walk. JESUS CHRIST HOW DO YOU GET THAT FAT? If I camped out at McDonalds for three years and ate a Big Mac every 20 minutes I don't think I could get that fat. Apparently this man has children. How did he find his dick? I wonder if his wife managed to live through such a painful procreative process.

Another update. Vital signs good, everything going as planned.

Waiting.
Sitting.
Worrying.

Oh my God they put soap operas on, please find me a gun. This is not what I need at this stressful time.

I bet if I shot that man, the bullet would bounce off his fat, or be enveloped by it. I need to get some food and have a cigarette ... this room is making me nauseous.

Waiting.
Sitting.
Worrying.

After reading a right-wing publication with about eight articles condemning gay marriage and other such benefits, I've come to the conclusion that some people seriously fear that gay people are going to take over and one day the national anthem will be “It’s Raining Men” and there will be a national felching competition on the White House front lawn after they’ve converted all us straight folk and President Bangmeintheass gets elected to the Oval Office. Silly Rush Limbaugh fans.

All clear. I can breathe now.
Time to get out of this house of horrors and get a drink … or 20.

 

Inside Molly's head

Drink water eat food play with duck run around bark at big dog through the window ohmygod people are home pant pant run run eat drink jump in lap rub my belly please thank you very much that feels good I'm so tired must take nap wait a minute someone in kitchen must get up give me treat I'm a good girl hey don't leave screw you guys I'm gonna tear up the couch and crap in the corner that’ll teach you to leave oh shit they're back time to put on the too cute what did I do face

 

Eulogy

Father, grandfather, husband, brother, son, uncle, nephew, friend, co-worker, cousin, in-law, neighbor

He was all these things

And

Most importantly

A great man loved and respected by all who knew him

A man so full of life should never be so still

RIP