Was out driving. Thought the fresh freezing air would make me feel better. The Flu sucks! Don't get it!

I had to pull over and throw up in a ditch. Nice! Like I'm a drunkered. Like I'm Amy Winehouse.

Earlier I had to pick my father up from the Alzheimer Facility, or as he called it, "The Lockdown." I had to drive him to the lab and then up to some room where they put an IV on him and pump him full of some kinda lube to grease his joints.

I was sitting there for an hour sweating. Shaking with chills. The nurse thought I was there for my methadone cocktail.

Dad goes in and out of some slight dream state. Everyone else outside the family thinks he's fine, but we know better.

In a moment of clarity he tells me he's hidden some Viagra in a box under his bed back at his apartment that he no longer lives in but we still have available. He tells me how he started getting it 10 years ago just because Medicare pays for it. Then he tried it and loved it!

I said, "Why did you need it?" because, like he's old and scary and I don't want to think of my dad bending some old scary floppy skinned bitch over his walker, slipping his stones to her dusty vajayjay and slapping that ass. You know?

He says, "What the hell do you think I was using them for?"

Eww...

Then he tells me in the same Viagra hope chest he's hidden some cash and wants me to go get it for him. He goes on to tell me the cash is wrapped around the Viagra, so bring both of them. Like he needs either of those things where he is now.

"Dad, I guess if the money is wrapped around the Viagra, That makes it Cold Hard Cash, right?"

He laughs so loud over this and for a nice sweet moment we share something good.

Just two minutes later he forgets who I am.

I drop him off at the "Lockdown" then driving away, pull over and puke in the ditch.