Mar 06 2009
Absence… It sucks being sick
Hey guys! Junk here to inform any of those loyal readers out there what has been happening. I apologize for not writing much before this, but work has been on an over haul with tons of mandatory hours and in the process, your faithful servant has gotten horribly sick. In a sickened state mixed with Nyquil enduced highs, I wrote this:
When you get sick, you feel like a super hero with Down Syndrome. Allow me to extrapolate this idea before I get angry emails…
Right before you get sick you feel this foreboding, a kind of Spider-Sense that things are about to get very bad. For the not-usually-sick, like myself, this aforementioned foreshadowing of evil cometh might be easily brushed off as mere, “It’s nothing, just a head ache or dust in the air.” This feeling that something is about to happen is a super hero warning technique, not always specified directly to super heroes but rather kung fu masters of cinema. Either way, super hero or kung fu lengend, your ass is about to get sick.
When it finally hits you, and you know it hits you like a prison master/slave night swapping event you gain the ultimate powers of heightened senses. Like Wolverine’s uber smelling, you can smell the most disgusting aromas of splashed vanilla on pulse areas, funkified B.O. tainting the air around you, and that once thought of beautiful Philly Cheesesteak is now a rancid, putrid pile of still tasty meat yet sickening sweet smell of future toilet hurkings. Your eyes can now see like a vampire, you can see clear in the darkly lit rooms but cringe under and mildly lit illuminary source. Your brains folds in on itself as you try to strain the piercing lights away from your optic nerves. AGH!!! You now know what it is to be a gremlin.
Yes, with all these amazing powers you are ready to fight the wards of evil and thwart any doers of wrong, right? I have to give you some bad news, rookie… Now you enter the Down Syndrome side of the Sick Superhero. You sense the lights above you as their are eating through your hoodie’s cowl attempting to suck out your life force. You hear every pin drop, making it impossible for any foot soldier of darkness to sneak up on you. You can smell the air and the wickedness it brings dancing on it. As you try to stand to fight off these hounds of hell, you fall to your knees and realize, “Fuck, I’ve gone retarded.”
Your body cripples in on itself and you feel like your insides are dying to unfold and dress your outsides with fashionable intestine-toned tunics. You can hear better, see better, smell better, taste better, but heaven forbid if you can move, think or react any faster than a stuffed penguin keychain.
Congratulations, you are now a full fledged Down Syndrome Doer of Good…or Bed. Either way, you’re gonna be going to sleep as soon as the medication…kicks….in……fuggggg………
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Now, as of tomorrow, our news, rants, and raves will go back to their normal schedules…. plus, this sick sick boy is going to see Watchmen tonight..horray! Back later with a report.
