It’s finally official. I’m sick. I have been avoiding being sick this year in a huge way. The kids and my wife have schemed to spread their diseases all over the house but hand washing and a steadfast refusal to clean up have kept me healthy to date.
(GROAN) I can barely think. My joints ache like rusted linkages in a decrepit machine. The noise of my children is that of thousands of banshees terrorizing dormitories full of virgins in a lonely nunnery on the moors. Even the relentless pacing of our cats around my feet is as if squishy, whining traps have been set in motion with the sole goal of having me dash my brains out on the counter. The burning, scratching in my throat evokes the destruction of volcanoes, sand storms and a nasty loofah sponge.
I can turn to only one thing. Whiskey and boiling water. Ratio – 2 parts whiskey to 1 part water. Repeat as required until you don’t notice anymore.