Happy Birthday, Marc, today's photo is for you. Wish I was where ever you are to split an extra paar Weißwurst with you. Thank you Denise for last night's Asian-Latin fusion dinner. Wow, no institutional food for three nights in a row. If I can keep from dropping the soap in the shower, and continue with the outside dietary assistance, I may survive my incarceration after all.

..."She really worked me over good, she was a credit to her gender. She put me through some changes lord, sort of like a Waring blender" ....Warren Zevon

Black and blue from yesterday's physical therapy session with Frau Schramm, and she's decided to bump it up a notch by scheduling a second session in the afternoon as of today. My ass is killing me. That, coupled with the fact that the toilet seats were designed for golden agers, and are about three inches too high, are making for a rather uncomfortable experience. Seriously, if anyone has any platform shoes left over from the 70's, feel free to send them along.

I had a serious talk with the doctor yesterday and he thinks I should stay for a third week. I had already decided I was willing to do that if I was seeing any progress, so it looks my parole will be delayed. That would have me sprung on the 22nd. I WILL NOT, I repeat, I WILL NOT spend my 50th birthday anyplace where there is even the slightest chance that someone will ask me, "Herr Wrigley, did you make with the bowel movement yesterday?"

Today they replaced the Dynamis with something called Nemectrodyn. I thought that was the robot from the "Transformers" movie that only had sex with dead robots, but my roommate corrected me and said that was Necropheliadyn. This guy knows everything. Nemectrodyn is more muscle-stimulating electricity administered through big diaphragm like suction cups stuck on my lower back. This time I got to lay on my stomach with my eyes closed in a dark room. I was able to nod off, but was constantly jolted awake by dreams of being mounted by a man-o-war. I feel like I'm being Tasered into good health.