Peering through a pince-nez…

Back in the office after a trip to the eye doctor, I’m so dilated I could give birth through my pupils. All print closer than four feet is a blur, so I’ve whipped out the old nose pinchers I purchased at a flea market in Warsaw and now squint through them at the screen.
It’s been at least ten years since my last eye exam, so I was expecting the news that I would need a whole new perscription. I’ve noticed that in the morning and evening it’s tough to bring print into focus, and that I’ve given up on the lyric sheets in cds lately. But shockingly enough I was told that my old glasses are fine, if I would just wear them dammit, and that if i needed anything different the best thing would be a pair of magnifiers from the drug store. Now where’s the glamor in that? When I hinted that I was thinking about getting new frames, Doctor Coen, reluctantly wrote out a ‘scrip, making me feel like I was one of those shirkers whining about my pain to mooch Vicodin.
There is much more to tell about this past weekend and its doings, but little time to tell it in.

10 thoughts on “Peering through a pince-nez…

  1. thornyc

    Don’t forget you can enlarge the text size on the browser under the “View” pull-down menu. I use this early in the morning before I get all the eye snot out, and bleary late nights when masturbating at the computer.

  2. thornyc

    dangnabbit!

    Just had a flashback of Walter Brennan from The Real McCoys, which I had managed to suppress for more than 30 years….

    >
    Holy Moly, Gramps is into fisting!

  3. naylandblakeaticp

    If beastiality’s wrong, I don’t want to be right…

    “Holy Moly, Gramps is into fisting!”

    Well what did you think they meant by “enters” his horse?

    Dell comics are really the map of some kind of purgatory, aren’t they?

  4. naylandblake

    If beastiality’s wrong, I don’t want to be right…

    “Holy Moly, Gramps is into fisting!”

    Well what did you think they meant by “enters” his horse?

    Dell comics are really the map of some kind of purgatory, aren’t they?

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.