Another Day, Another Drive-By

This time the bus that hit me was a head cold. I hate head colds. My whole brain gets stuck in the gel that fills my skull. I can't think, I can't breathe, I can't sleep, I can't eat.
You might think that the can't eat part would be good, but I'm the only person I know (except my alter-ego, Edina Monsoon) who can gain weight through my pores. I swear, when the brown shirts round me up and send me off in the box car, I'll be getting out heavier than when I went in.

And being brain-dead and snuffling in retail is a bad, bad thing. So I'm dosing myself with Day-Quill and Ricolas and walking around with a handkerchief up my shirt sleeve like a granny.

Pathetic. This must be some sort of cosmic retribution for ridiculing the man with the horrible slurpy sniffle the other day. Feh.
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 05/19 at 12:55 PM in Life? Don’t Talk to Me About Life.

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