We're coming up on the 16th anniversary of R17. In all that time I've never taken a sick day. Of course there's no way to verify that. And why would anyone want to: I've proven many a point on this blog, and it's had no effect. Besides, we live in an age of suspended belief, you know what I'm talking about. So, like so many other things in world, you'll just have to accept that as fact.
But I am sick, with a fever that spiked to 101.7. And I've been downing Tylenols like they're Tic-Tacs. And waking up in the middle of night slathered in sweat -- and not that sexy, glistening Speedo-wearing man on a Mediterranean Beach type.
With any luck tonight's Acetaminophen/Bourbon Cocktail will kill this damn flu dead, dead, dead, and the snark will return on Thursday.
No comments:
Post a Comment