Ugh. I'm sick. And it's not the fun kind of sick, either. It's the 'every time I lift my head up off the pillow I throw up' kind of sick.
The fun kind of sick (if you were wondering) is the kind where you feel just bad enough to justify not going to work, but still feel good enough to lay in bed and read all day, eat soup, and drink some kind of lemon-lime soda.
I've got the shivers, I can't eat anything, and my body aches. No, this is not the fun kind of sick at all. To quote a line from Withnail & I: "I Feel like a pig shat in my head".
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to bed.
Good day.
Get well Spencer we need you voice out here. You don't actually have pig crap on your head do you? yopur njust kidding right?
ReplyDeleteIt's not on my head, Willie. It's in it.
ReplyDeleteFeel better yo.
ReplyDeleteWill do. Have you checked out 'Exit Through The Gift shop' yet?
ReplyDeleteI just read the Roger Ebert review of it, and it reminded me of a past conversation we had about graffiti:
http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20100428/REVIEWS/100429978
What do you think?
Another one on the to-get list. Thanks for the heads-up.
ReplyDeleteI have the proper kind of soda-drinkin' non-pig-shittin' sickitude. What do I win?
ReplyDeleteAh, Ian. The condition is it's own reward.
ReplyDelete