2008-02-18 - 10:36 p.m.

OFFICE COUGHY AND WHISKEYMINT

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARKKKKKKK HARRRRRRRRRRK HARRRRRRRRRRRRK HARK HARK HARK HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARK!!!

When will it end? The deep, gut-wrenching, sea-cow-like bellow that bursts uncontrollably from my tattered throat every few minutes has gotten FREAKIN' OLD. I am ready, OH SO READY, for it to stop. I can't laugh or talk without risking an insane coughing fit, and the shite is OLD HAT.
It's this part of the scourge which is the worst. Even worse than the clammy, achy, near-death feeling that ruled the first few days of this plague. It's tenacious as hell...the cough just goes on and on. The scourge is relentless, it's gripped nearly everyone I know. Just this morning I became aware of a number of different (yet all so similar) yarking sounds, one after another, near and far, coming from all over the building. Everybody's helplessly making ridiculous, buzz saw sounds with our agonized, shredded vocal chords. The office ambiance is like a Louisiana frog pond on a Summer night. None of these sounds lead to mating, that I know of.

So I'm dissolving one of the kid's Christmas peppermint canes in two jiggers of 107 proof whiskey, and I'm by golly gonna choke it down, and then I'm gonna feel better. I'm not real sure it'll be a cure, but I'm pretty sure I'll feel better. How can you go wrong with whiskey? That's what Mama used to give us when our coughing got really out of control. I don't think she went two jiggers, but I do remember the mixture...and it tastes just as crappy as it used to.

I wish there was a handsome Welshman nearby to cuddle me up and pity me a bit, and perhaps pat my butt a while. He could tickle my back, too, if he were so inclined, and then he could tell me how ravishing I look even when I'm feeling under par, and then he'd look at me lovingly, and kiss me very passionately, which would bend my neck slightly, which would trigger the insane tickling, which would thrust me instantly into an explosive coughing fit, which would blow both his cheeks up, which would gross him out soundly, which would cause him to be forever sickened by the thought of me.

Perhaps we should just stick to the butt-patting.

*hack*

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