Rammstein and Other German Comforts
More fun in the Polk household. This time i used the lyrics from a German Metal Band called Rammstein. Keine Lust and Stein um Stein. The usual disclaimers i don't own Joan of Arcadia or the characters, but oh the fun i would have if i did.
'Ich hab keine lust
Ich hab keine lust
Ich hab keine lust
Ich hab keine lust
Ich hab keine lust mich
Nicht zu hassen.'
Keine Lust (Don't Feel Like it)- Rammstein
I'm now lying on the old leather couch in the Nurse's lounge drinking my fourth cup of bad coffee. It's five am and I'm definitely not going to school. I just let my mind drift back over my past history in this place. Not surprisingly I was here two weeks ago on a similar bender related incident. The funny thing is that I've contemplated my own mother's demise so many times and been to the precipice that it no longer fazes me. I just wait, where I can listen to my music, for a pronouncement.
I know the number of tiles on the roof of trauma room one is one thousand two hundred and thirty six, but that was for another reason. I counted tiles so I wouldn't have to see my best friend's mother finally pronounced. I didn't really want to say goodbye to Elizabeth Rove that moment, and wouldn't until three months, two days, six hours, and four bottles of vodka later and even then it took Wolfe dragging me down to the graveyard.
I should really call Wolfe right now, but I'll have to put it off for now since my dad has just walked through the trauma doors.
"Where is my daughter and where is my wife?" I get up and walk to him.
"Can it putz they are still working on her." He shoots me a look of disdain.
"Is she any worse than usual,"
"A little bit, but not much," I shrug as I say this, because it is only a platitude and an act that my father puts on.
"This is becoming more frequent," I see that look in his eye.
"Are you actually going to do anything about her now?" I ask already knowing the answer.
"She just fell and hit her head, there's nothing to worry about," I know that that is the denial talking, but he should be past it already. Beth, my favourite ER night nurse passes us and gives me the thumbs up.
"Well she's conscious now." I turn and head for the trauma room. I hear him grunt in frustration. I make a mental note to call Wolfe before I leave for home. My father jogs to catch up to me.
"Wolfe called. She said she was going to be here in about half an hour." Good because I need a ride home and am not going to share a car with my father. The bastard doesn't even have the decency to clean up after his last round with Mrs. Screw-of-the-week. And this hypocrite says I'm morally bankrupt. "I don't know what you see in a dyke like her. You let her in on everything but won't say a word to your beard, er boyfriend. I thought you were broken up anyways; don't tell me you keep her on the side."
'Stein um stein mauer ich dich
Ein
Stein um stein
Und keiner hort dich schreien."
"And be like you dad, never. Now shut up before I contract ad space for those pictures from the Friedman bar mitzvah. You know the ones of you teaching Friedman's mom something new in the janitorial closet." He' paled so much he's almost opaque. He knows I'd do it in a heartbeat.
Rough translation for the German, Rammstein is a German metal band.
I don't feel like it
I don't feel like it
I don't feel like it
I don't feel like it
I don't feel like not hating myself.
-and-
Stone by stone I wall you in
Stone by stone
And nobody will hear you scream.
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