PLAAAAAGUE

This plague, y’all. THIS PLAGUE.

So since I last said I was bugged by a sore throrat, the darn thing has slowly moved up to take over the rest of my head, like the boa constrictor from the song.*

I mean, in the beginning it was not so bad—I did a great Buford impression. Now that it’s engulfed my entire head, I sound less husky, but am infinitely more miserable. I’ve now got two moods: totally gross, and only mostly gross while filled to the brim with Nyquil. It’s a rough way to live a life.

So yeah, I’m off to the doctor tomorrow to maybe get something to kill off the germs. Till then, I will moan and whine and curse my forgetting to get my shots this year. The righteous punishment of the plague gods is something I should avoid in the future.


*Oh, fuck (Oh, fuck)
I’m coughing up muck (I’m coughing up muck)
Oh, jeez (Oh, jeez)
It huts when I sneeze (It hurts when I sneeze)
Sumbitch (Sumbitch)
My EARS even itch (My ears even itch)

And so forth.