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156 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published May 30, 1996
Looking back through what I've written, I see that I called Georgia Pines, where I now live, a nursing home. The folks who run the place wouldn't be very happy with that! According to the brochures they keep in the lobby and send out to prospective clients, it's a "state-of-the-art retirement complex for the elderly." It even has a Resource Center - the brochure says so. The folks who live here (the brochure doesn't call us "inmates," but sometimes I do) just call it the TV room.
Folks think I'm stand-offy because I don't go down to the TV room much in the day, but it's the programs I can't stand, not the folks. Oprah, Rikki Lake, Carnie Wilson, Rolanda - the world is falling down around our ears, and all these people care for is talking about fucking to women in short skirts and men with their shirts hanging open. Well, hell - judge not, lest ye be judged, the Bible says, so I'll get down off my soapbox. It's just that if I wanted to spend time with trailer trash, I'd move two miles down to the Happy Wheels Motor Court, where the police cars...