Two days ago, I thought I had a heart attack. I was taken to Jamaica Hospital (a cesspool that would shame a mange-ridden street rat if it were taken there). The doctors are actually professional and seem to have received their medical degrees from accredited schools, but the fucking place is a Dickensian nightmare. Old whores with sores, toothless crack heads in urine-soaked pants . . .people just like me!
They checked me out and discharged me. It seems as though I am suffering from an aversion to loneliness. I haven't gotten laid in over three years. I am broke. My cock sucking son stole from me and has abandoned me once again. My cunt wives took what they could grab (all 5 of them, especially the last Gypsy cunt who picked the flesh off me like a ravenous vulture). I am on 15 different medications, all of which cause me to be delusional, nauseous, and suicidal. I am too much of a wimp to kill myself. I am just waiting to die.
My lawyer, Charles, called me dozens of times upon my return from the Snake Pit. He thought I bit the dust. If it weren't for him, I would just evaporate. He cares about me and has resuscitated my life on a number of occasions. He gave me the number to get Food Stamps. He also told me that I should qualify for Section 8 housing (that's what they offer to those people in this country who are living just above the same standard of a Calcutta Untouchable)
Sometimes I jerk off and think about my days at Plato's - the days when Hugh Hefner had me in his Rolodex...and the nights when Garrett Morris of Saturday Night Live would pop in and stick his shvontz into 5-10 pussies a night - and that was BEFORE Viagra!)
One time Garrett took me to see Belushi. He was holed up in the Chelsea Hotel. He wouldn't leave until he ran out of that magic white powder was reduced to residue on a mirror. Personally, coke was not for me. Food was my drug. Pussy was my after-dinner drink.
Anyway, Belushi looked up at me:" Hey, Fuckin' Al, you fat fuck, let me fuck you in the ass! Hahhahahaha! Sit down and join me!" I had to comply (he was Belushi! a fucking charismatic, fat fuck just like me!) so I took a snort. As it sprayed into my nose, it backfired and I sneezed ! The entire mound of coke covered Belushi's pants, shirt, hands! He yelled "Al you
fucking shmuck!" and then proceeded to snort the coke off his shirtsleeves, his hands, wiped it off his face and snorted it off his fingers! It was like a kid who dropped an ice cream on the street and ate it off the pavement!
I have attached a photo of me and Garrett Morris - - what a cock that guy had! Those were the good old days!
By the way, if anyone wants to rent out an old toothless Jew who has years of experience eating pussy and insulting jerkoffs, I am available for bachelor parties and bar mitzvahs. For $200 plus taxi ride, I will ROAST the groom (or the little schmekel whose father pays $500,000 for the biggest party of his life!)
Fu-c-c-c-c-c-c-k Yo-u-u-u-u-u-uu-u-u!!!!!
AL GOLDSTEIN
