Ick
Sicky Cranky Pantsy Poo
If I seem unseemly quiet, it’s because I’m congested. If I seem less witty or snarky in the future, it’s because I’ve been sneezing a lot and blowing my nose fiercely which results in brainmatter propulsioning into my handkerchief. Who knew that the Medulla Oblongata could be greenish grey? If I stumble and fall a lot it’s because snippets of the temporal and occipital lobes are getting whittled at in the honking nose-blowing process.
I’ve been cocktailing various cold & pain medications with a Hot Toddy chaser. This has given me weird dreams including the Lucci Sisters acting in a movie as a pair of vinyl figurine vendors who try to pass themselves off as male transvestite hookers. Don’t ask. I’m ever so sorry. Ever. So. Sorry. Honest. Ernie & I were in the dream playing Japanese tourists with big cameras. Damn hollywood for fucking up my dream life too.
Also dreaming about Jhames and I being pitted against each other in a “Who can Get Laid More” olympiad. Me & my Shmoo representing Team Hetero vs. Jhames and his uber sexy prowess as Team ‘Mo. Until My shmoo comes and visits in a tight pink shirt and disco shorts. I gasp in horror as Jhames smirks over his latest conquest.
I called my dad this afternoon to whine a bit about being sick.
The Daddy: “Did you eat?”
Moi: “Yes”
The Daddy:”What are you doing today?”
Moi: “Sitting in my pajamas, eating, playing video games, sleeping”
The Daddy: “Just sleep”
Moi: “Uh… sure”
If I even *tried* to explain my dreams to him I think he’d try to register me for the convent. (again)
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