treetment of buddy don: rubbed raw by gua sha

frank butler, that ackupunkchurist i go see, really wurked me over yesterdy evenin. he figgerd he wuz close with them erbs but when he gits it rite, twill git rid of the problem fer good n i wont be takin erbs everday. but we aint quite that far along. the urge to vomit is so grate that i kin barely thank of nuthin else. this here note is writ jes befor i drop back into the oblivion of zomig agin on a counta how im rite on the edge. furst a cuple pitchers of the gua sha treetment i wuz give yesterdy.

furst thays the hole back:



as ye kin see, they rubbed me up purty good a'usin sum stangin oil n a piece of smooth porcelun. spozedly ifn yer helthy, dont nuthin cum up but a lil pinkness. as ye kin see, i aint that healthy yet, witch heres a close up:



it hurt lack the devil while they wuz a'rubbin on me, witch it tuck two of em to keep it up till they gut everthang to cum up. sposedly the darker stuff is older than the paler. tiz also spozed to stop a feller frum feelin lack he needs to upchuck, but it dint wurk cumpletely lack that. i wuz on zomig durin the meetin so ye couldnt hardly tell, but this mornin i am rite on the edge.

later today miz bd is a'gone go get the new erbs, witch thays bof a new n a ole mix, the new in hopes it wurks so i kin git closer to a cure of this thang, the ole in case the new dont wurk, witch im a'prayin twill. rite now ima gone shoot sum zomig up my nose n go back to sleep.