Today was the beginning of my second weekend of work at the Castle of the Ancient Armies, otherwise known as either a nursing home, or a prison for the saggy and wrinkled. I didn't see the queen of the old people today since she doesn't come in on weekends, meaning I was free to do as I pleased. The awesomeness of having no rules, which under normal circumstances would be able to power a small clown-car from here (New York) to China, including being so concentrated so as to be used as jet fuel to fly over the Pacific Ocean, was negated by the fact that I was in a nursing home. Almost nothing is cool in a nursing home, not even ice or Mr. T.

When I arrived, at 7 in the A.M., not because I had to but because nothing gets you up in the morning quicker than seeing yourself in 70 years, either slowly shuffling, your feet never leaving the ground, or pushing yourself in a wheelchair in circles as if being chased on a carousel, I had no key to get inside. Thankfully, one of the poor, poor souls trapped inside the prison, also known as night-shift nurses, did some sacred ritual which included sacrificing a goat that we happened to have at the nursing home for such an emergency, and the gate to the castle opened.

Now, I only work weekends, which means I don't get the -one- set of keys that opens all the doors that I need to open since I can't get it from them on Friday night. Unfortunately I also thought it would be smart to put my house keys on it, so I spent the night before in a box with a hairy, jello-and-eggs smelling man named Big Zeek. Me and him are going to a carnival on Wednesday, you're all invited if you can make it to New York, however the catch is that you have to build your own rides, since me and Big Zeek couldn't find a real carnival so we're just gonna make our own. I'm making a carousel by just attaching some horses to one of the old people in a wheelchair. Anyway, without the keys, I couldn't open anything, such as the door to the smokers' lounge, or portals to other dimensions, which is something we do habitually at the Oldness Home.

I sat crying for hours, since my keys are my greatest love besides Bionicle. If you were here you'd see on one shelf a row of Bionicle figures, and then next to it a shelf of Key Action Figures. They even have door-opening action! Nevertheless I persevered without my keys just like a chicken can run around for like 10 minutes without its head, only I can't eat with my keys. Once the girl who always comes late and had the keys came, I ran up to her, stole the keys, hissed, and hid into a dark little corner to caress my keys. I felt like a chicken who had his head stapled back on; I felt complete.

I can't quite recall what happened in the 4-5 hours that happened after that, since it's so much fun working at an old person prison that all the fun and joy kinda melds together like when you leave two different flavors of ice cream together and then they melt and form a new flavored liquid together, only when you try to freeze that liquid to have hybrid ice cream, defying nature and the very concepts of life itself, it doesn't quite freeze right and you basically just get something along the lines of frozen yogurt. All I can remember is that I heard an old man complaining that a woman bit him. All I could think about after that was whether or not he would turn into an old woman during a full moon.

-DD, not wanting to turn into an old anything, at any time.