Saturday, October 12, 2013
Good Times
You can tell a day is going well when you are counting down the hours to your next Zyrtec. That thing on the package about every twelve hours is just a suggestion, right? Because right now I'm contemplating just taking the whole box and calling it a day.
By the way, you have to get your Zyrtec directly from the pharmacist in Illinois now. You even have to sign a little statement promising that you won't use it to make meth. Because most drug dealers really draw the line at perjury, you see.
So apparently I'm allergic to fall now? It started last month as just a little bit of chest congestion, but now my throat is as raw as Sandra Bullock's performance in Gravity and my eyes hurt more than when I saw Sandra Bullock's performance in Miss Congeniality 2: Armed & Fabulous. Why can't I be allergic to something I don't want to be around anyway? Like broccoli or that paralegal in my office who spits when she talks.
I'd go to see my doctor, but last time he just made me take off my pants and tried to convince me I had asthma. I'm just not ready for that level of sexiness, I guess.
You can tell a day is going well when you are counting down the hours to your next Zyrtec. That thing on the package about every twelve hours is just a suggestion, right? Because right now I'm contemplating just taking the whole box and calling it a day.
By the way, you have to get your Zyrtec directly from the pharmacist in Illinois now. You even have to sign a little statement promising that you won't use it to make meth. Because most drug dealers really draw the line at perjury, you see.
So apparently I'm allergic to fall now? It started last month as just a little bit of chest congestion, but now my throat is as raw as Sandra Bullock's performance in Gravity and my eyes hurt more than when I saw Sandra Bullock's performance in Miss Congeniality 2: Armed & Fabulous. Why can't I be allergic to something I don't want to be around anyway? Like broccoli or that paralegal in my office who spits when she talks.
I'd go to see my doctor, but last time he just made me take off my pants and tried to convince me I had asthma. I'm just not ready for that level of sexiness, I guess.
