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thursday, 12

From now on this column is going to change. Well, coming from someone who can t even plan ahead as far as from morning until lunchtime, I guess you d say, or I would say, rather, that it might change. It s going to become a medical advice column, like Dr. Gott s. I don t know if it s a sign of old age or what, but I am obsessed with reading Dr. Gott s letters and answers, and I do believe I have mentioned that on his page before, back when he was on his sagging vagina kick, about which he must have received many letters of complaint because, sadly, there has been no more mention of that sort of thing in his syndicated column in some time. So from now on well, unless I get hit by a bus, which wouldn t be altogether unusual, since the bus drivers in Memphis seem to relish in trying run me off the road; or unless I get hit by a trolley car (no, wait, that s already happened to me in one of the strangest accidents I ve ever been in); or I could be attacked by a midget carrying a big baseball bat; or I could receive a severed raccoon head in the mail, as a Cleveland high school principal did recently during teachers strike; or I could live forever more with the mental image, as described recently in the news, of Senator Strom Thurmond of South Carolina still having a penchant for squeezing the young ladies and being pushed through crowds of people and greeting them with Hiya, doon, Hiya doon ; or I could be put in charge of assigning Winona Ryder s 400 (or however many they have her) hours of community service, and together we would rock this town and not have time to write this drivel; or I could land in prison for causing a lot of physical and psychological harm to someone, anyone at Cingular Wireless, from whom I finally broke down recently and purchased a cellular phone to make my life less complicated, and spent, oh, maybe seven hours on the phone with recorded messages and people who didn t have a clue as to what they were doing and finally had to go to the physical store to confront a human in person and refuse to leave until all was working properly on the thing, which I already hate and on which have received calls only from myself reminding me to pick up kitty litter and vodka and the like (I ll let you know how that diet works out); or I could be put in charge of the Bush twins 21st birthday party and let those poor girls finally knock back a few cocktails without getting nine kinds of grief; or I could do like a friend of mine does, and starting ending every sentence with, And then I went home with a whore ; or I could just win the lottery when we get it and move off to a country that s not to universally hated because of the way we like to push everyone else around. BUT, until then, how about a little medical advice? DEAR DR. SAMPSON: When I was in high school I used to pass in class a lot and hallucinated many times, sometimes laying on the school yard in tears, guffawing the bushes because they looked like cartoon characters. One morning I even went into the restroom to splash some water on my face and thought I was in there for just a few minutes but when I came out school was already over. What do you think could have caused all this? Well, I would say that someone was drugging you, but now I believe this was caused by mold in your school. Ya got any of it left?! And there you have it. We will discuss many medical questions in the future, so feel free to send them on in. In the meantime, here s a brief look at some of what s going on around town this week. And well, well. For tonight, I m giving you four choices. First of all, you could go to the Horseshoe Casino for a CD release party for none other than John Daly and Friends, and listen to such classics as All My Ex s Wear Rolexes and Long Ball Rebel, both of which, I might add, were co-written by none other than RSVP magazine editor Mary Helen Randall, who also sings backup on said CD. OR you could do something even more surreal and go for night one of the Bellevue Baptist Singing Christmas Tree; how they can get a tree to sing is something only they know, I assume. Or you could head down to Beale Street tonight for Blues Christmas, a blow-it-all-out fund-raising night for the Blues Foundation, starting with a silent auction at Mr. Handy s Blues Hall (a Gibson Guitar, restaurant gift certificates, a team-autographed Grizzlies basketball, Steve Roberts photographs, and more to be auctioned), followed by live music in almost all of the clubs, with a lineup that includes Di Anne Price, Reba Russell, Blind Mississippi Morris, Cory Branan, The Subteens, Scott Sudbury, Los Cantadores, Deep Shag, and many, many more. And a mere $10 wristband gets you in all participating clubs. And you may also help out some kids at the Adam s Mark Hotel tonight at 6 p.m., when the Memphis Grizzlies Holiday Toy Drive culminates with the players and management there on hand.