Monday, July 2, 2007
I don't feel good!
UGH. How are you? I DON'T FEEL GOOD. My headache feels extra achey, and my joints feel like someone is jabbing them with pins (which I suppose is an improvement from spikes in the wrists). And what's even worse? NO ONE CARES. I've called up all my friends—even the vegan butcher—and just because I yell, "I DON'T FEEL GOOD" right when they pick up the phone, they don't want to be very helpful. All I ever hear is, "Have you taken any aspirin," or "Are you drinking a lot of water," or "Are you keeping bundled up?" or "Have you gone to the doctor?" Of COURSE, I haven't done any of these things! I'm Jesus Christ! If Jesus Christ is achey all over, what in the world is a doctor or aspirin going to do??
(Trudy—my very good friend the bank teller—brought me some chicken soup on her lunchbreak. That was super-duper sweet. Even though it tasted like poop. PMF—BUT I DON'T FEEL GOOD.)
Another thing that really annoys me about NOT FEELING GOOD (which I don't) is that people are always giving me that knowing look, like "Well… it could be worse." What they mean is that I could have a bunch of Roman soldiers beating the crap out of me, and nailing me to a cross. Well, yes… I suppose that would be worse. However, just because I still have spike scars on my wrists, and I went through a significant trauma on the cross, that still doesn't negate the fact that right now I DON'T FEEL GOOD.
Can't I NOT FEEL GOOD and have a previous traumatic incident? Is that OKAY with you people? I DON'T FEEL GOOD. Jiminy Crickets! Why is that so difficult to understand?
AND ANOTHER THING. What's up with the 7-11 NOT selling Ginger Ale? My stomach DOESN'T FEEL GOOD either. And yet, 7-11 doesn't stock any Ginger Ale because they quote, "don't sell enough of it"?? Tell that to my roiling tummy—WHICH DOESN'T FEEL GOOD.
Ginger Ale is delicious, AND it's a homopathic remedy. A lot of people think homopathic remedies are just for the gay people, but they help everybody. Especially the gays.
UGHHHHHHHH… I DON'T FEEL GOOD.
Alright. I'm going to lay down with Karen (that's my lamb) and see if cuddling her will make me feel better. Of course, I'll have to find her first. She slinked out of the house earlier, because whenever she entered the room, I would inform her…
I DON'T FEEL GOOD!
Kaaaaa-ren! I DON'T FEEEEEEEL GOOOOOOOOOD!