Me family’s a bunch of nervous Nellies, isn’t they? Keeping me holed up in the hospital just ‘cause the ticker’s not beating regular-like. But then, who’s they to say me heartbeat is irregular? Maybe I say a heart that can go a few minutes without beating while I pass out is as regular as cigarettes on pizza. Also, I like cigarettes on me pizza.

If they knew some other things about me body, they might not think me heartbeat was so irregular. It’s all relative, is what I’m saying. Like, did you know that if I stand too close to the telly, my stomach makes them beeping noises? Yeah, it sounds like a bomb’s ‘bout to go off. ‘N then other times, my skin starts turnin’ grey and all I can smell is meatloaf, but I think that’s just me body’s way of saying it’s time to get shitfaced, isn’t it?