Through Sick and Gin
They say you never appreciate your health and home until you're eight hundred miles away from home hacking up a proverbial lung in a not-so-proverbial Microtel with suspicious sheets and a broken A/C unit.
Now, I know what you're thinking. Who are these mysterious "they?" And how do they gain their all-encompassing knowledge? And what, exactly, do sheets have to be suspicious OF?
(Have I mentioned yet that I've been taking a lot of Robitussin? No? Excellent.)
And so, in conclusion, I'm writing myself a Get Well post from all of you. Because I know you care. And I probably won't remember any of this tomorrow anyway. (Another hot toddy? Don't mind if I do!)
Meth? Why, yeth, thith cake ITH a "meth."
Actually it's "Jen."
And hey, I'm right here!
I mean, just because someone is humming the theme song to 2001 while rocking a doll made entirely of used Kleenex doesn't mean she can't hear you.
(Daaaa. Daaaa...DAA DUMMM!!)
(You know, this guy?)
'Cuz I gotta be honest: The implied comparison here isn't making me feel any better.
(For that matter, neither are the Dr. Pepper enemas.)
(In fact, I'm starting to wonder if some of these anonymous chat room doctors might not be entirely trustworthy.)
Whoah, whoah, whoah! What's with the needle? Is this some kind of threat? What ever happened to teddy bears and flowers?
Well, I'm pretty sure that's a daisy.
So I guess that's one long shot that paid off in the end.
(Think it's solid buttercream?)
(And syringe cakes: do they really *need* a point?)
('Cuz I'd say that cheeky baker really injected some fun into his bottom line!)
(Something something spankin' new rear view mirror. Or something.)
Aaaand that's a bum wrap.
Now, I know what you're thinking. Who are these mysterious "they?" And how do they gain their all-encompassing knowledge? And what, exactly, do sheets have to be suspicious OF?
(Have I mentioned yet that I've been taking a lot of Robitussin? No? Excellent.)
And so, in conclusion, I'm writing myself a Get Well post from all of you. Because I know you care. And I probably won't remember any of this tomorrow anyway. (Another hot toddy? Don't mind if I do!)
Meth? Why, yeth, thith cake ITH a "meth."
Actually it's "Jen."And hey, I'm right here!
I mean, just because someone is humming the theme song to 2001 while rocking a doll made entirely of used Kleenex doesn't mean she can't hear you.
(Daaaa. Daaaa...DAA DUMMM!!)
Now, maybe this is that last Airborne margarita talking, or the honey-soaked onions, or the Vick's vapor rub squishing between my toes, but... is that a sick Bilbo Baggins wishing me a happy birthday?
(You know, this guy?)
'Cuz I gotta be honest: The implied comparison here isn't making me feel any better.(For that matter, neither are the Dr. Pepper enemas.)
(In fact, I'm starting to wonder if some of these anonymous chat room doctors might not be entirely trustworthy.)
Well, maybe a nice cookie cake will distract me from all the yucky parts of being sick.
Whoah, whoah, whoah! What's with the needle? Is this some kind of threat? What ever happened to teddy bears and flowers?
Well, I'm pretty sure that's a daisy.
So I guess that's one long shot that paid off in the end.
(Think it's solid buttercream?)
(And syringe cakes: do they really *need* a point?)
('Cuz I'd say that cheeky baker really injected some fun into his bottom line!)
(Something something spankin' new rear view mirror. Or something.)
Aaaand that's a bum wrap.
Thanks to honey buns Ethan O., Joe A., Katy D., Alyssa R., & Laura R. Now, someone pass me the ginger peel gin, will you? I have a sinus spray to make.
Categories:
Just Funny,
Questionable Taste
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