I need an intervention

I busted out of the hospital yesterday, and just in time. I was through with that joint and ready to see the world... by which I mean the inside of a car... by which I mean nothing, because I was asleep.

Hey, why do I have to face this way while Eli gets to see where we're going??? No freakin' fair.

At long last, home!

Here I am, pretending to be an abandoned baby on someone's doorstep.

I got a welcome cake and everything...

Unfortunately, the gesture was wasted on me. Frankly, cake just doesn't do it for me. Y'know what does, though? Boobs. Love 'em. Can't get enough. Seriously, I could use some boob right now. You know where I can get some? Because I know where I can get some. It's a big of an obsession at this point. Seriously, get me some boob. NOW.

Bad stuff happens when I don't get my fix. Take this evening. No boob for a good 30 second, and what happens? I fall apart. Got the shakes, everything. We're talking serious withdrawal. Nothing could comfort me except boob. Not a pat on the back...

Not swinging in a chair...

You think this is funny, Eli? YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY??? BOOB NOW!!!

Not a warm sponge bath...


In the end, the only thing that could get my mind off boob was the sorry spectacle of a grown man debasing himself to entertain a 3 day-old baby. That was fairly entertaining.

Seriously, would it kill you to take one of those Listerine breath strips?

Tomorrow, I'm signing up for Boobs Anonymous. Hopefully I'll meet some kids my own age while I'm at it. In the meantime, where's my damn boob!