three, no – two
18 September 2006
Because I lack the physical, emotional, and mental strength to do too much right now:
1) That game was terrible.
2) I think I have/had mono.
3) I hung out with Playmates last weekend.
Got it? Let’s go.
That game was terrible.
I can’t even talk about it. I really can’t. I think Eagles fan Brett from Irvine, CA said it best:
I feel like my heart was ripped out of my chest, dipped in tabasco sauce, stuck with 10,000 porcupine quills, put in an auto-smashing assembly & promptly obliterated – then put back in my now lifeless body. Please write some clever verse to make the pain stop — the Eagles are killing me.
I’m sorry brother, but there ain’t no amount of clever verse that is going to make this pain going away.
What’s worse than suffering through such a total collapse is being the target of a string of anonymous emails sent from Giants fans/Philly haters. Even though I’ve noted that there is nothing quite as manly as anonymously talking shit over email, I’d like to remind said shit-talkers of some facts:
- There is an 85% chance that I could beat you up in real life, which, even in my weakened state due to illness, I will not hesitate to do if you’re up for it and would like a story. Just as my best “line” to women is “C’mon – make out with me for the story! You’ll be able to tell all your girlfriends that you made out with one of People’s 50 Hottest Bachelors! And you get to watch how disappointed they become when you tell them which one!”, I will gladly beat your ass so that you can tell your buddies about it. Not a problem, really.
- There is a 94% chance that I am smarter than you. And not just because most of the emails I’ve received have had gross misspellings or grammatical errors, but also because I’m just really fucking smart. I’ve read, like, six books this month. So suck on that.
- There is a 97% chance that I – in theory – make more money than you. Just because I waste what I make at my normal job on alcohol and shiny things and just because I don’t think I’ll ever get paid for my projects doesn’t mean that I’m not hypothetically rich.
- There is a 99.99% chance that I am more famous than you. Dude, I don’t know you – do I email you when your team loses? No, because I’m famous. I don’t have time for that shit. Also, did you hang out with Playmates for two nights last weekend? Didn’t think so.
So I’m doing alright, but thanks for taking the time to write me an email.
Giants fans, enjoy the victory. Eagles fans, yes, that was about the equivalent of your girlfriend telling you she’s cheating on you, but it’s still very early in the season. Yes, it really hurts. But all is not lost. Don’t give up so early. If we lose next week to the 49ers, maybe, but not right now.
I think I have/had mono.
This weekend I was essentially under house arrest. I was in my apartment about 23 hours a day from Thursday until Sunday, getting one hour of “outside time” each day for necessary errands (grocery shopping, dropping off/picking up laundry, buying more Theraflu, letting the wind blow over my only partially-clothed body because there was a nasty urine smell coming out of my pores, etc). It really, really fucking sucked.
But I am at work today – and not just because my employer probably would have fired me if I were to take another sick day (called out Thursday and Friday of last week). I feel better but I’m still not 100%. Still.
It was Saturday night when I started to really assess the situation. As recently as a year ago, I was one of the world’s leading hypochondriacs (before I realized that it required so much work). Therefore, I still have the requisite medical knowledge to properly diagnose myself.
When my sickness started, I thought it was a head cold. I was stuffed up, couldn’t sleep, felt exhausted. But the head cold and stuffiness soon went away and was replaced by a fever and chills, an intense lethargy, and swollen glands. Those these three conditions have decreased over the past few days, they are still present.
Then I remembered when one of my first girlfriends – before she was my girlfriend – got mono in junior high. She was tired all the time, had a fever, and had these giant swollen glands. We all treated her like she had rabies because we thought mono was so scandalous. But the fever, tiredness, and swollen glands…Hmmm…
And then I thought about how much making out I’ve been doing lately. My escapades with women over the past few months can only be described as “epic.” My partner in crime, my buddy Jeremy, and I have been so impressed with ourselves that we can only say “We’re back” when discussing our Lotharian behaviors. Of course, in order to preserve my loser image, I can’t write about this woman craziness here. However, I have started another blog which details my recent sexual escapades (or sexcapades, if you will): iamgettingsomuchpussyrightnowitscrazy.blogspot.com. There you can read about my cavorting with the opposite sex and all its explicit, makeoutalicious detail.
And then I put it all together: I have the symptoms of mono. I have been making out a lot lately. Therefore, I more than likely have recently contracted mono.
So, sweet. Apparently, you just have to take it easy, suck on some lozenges, and drink a lot of fluids, so that’s what I plan on doing for the next few days. I guess it’s just something that you have for a few days that eventually goes away. Like I said, I feel like I’m getting better, so hopefully this is on its way out.
One last thing: I haven’t mentioned any of this to my date for my buddy Greg’s wedding this weekend, so if we could kinda keep this between us, that would be most appreciated. I don’t think she’d be too happy to learn she has to spend a whole night with a guy with some lame, pseudo-STD. Jesus. If I were a real man, I would have gotten herpes or HPV or at least chlamydia, but mono? Really? What am I, 17? I have to admit, I’m kinda disappointed in myself – and not in the way that I should be.
I hung out with Playmates last weekend.
You know what? I’m tired again. Let’s pick this up in another post in a little bit. I need a break. Stupid mono.
1) That game was terrible.
2) I think I have/had mono.
3) I hung out with Playmates last weekend.
Got it? Let’s go.
That game was terrible.
I can’t even talk about it. I really can’t. I think Eagles fan Brett from Irvine, CA said it best:
I feel like my heart was ripped out of my chest, dipped in tabasco sauce, stuck with 10,000 porcupine quills, put in an auto-smashing assembly & promptly obliterated – then put back in my now lifeless body. Please write some clever verse to make the pain stop — the Eagles are killing me.
I’m sorry brother, but there ain’t no amount of clever verse that is going to make this pain going away.
What’s worse than suffering through such a total collapse is being the target of a string of anonymous emails sent from Giants fans/Philly haters. Even though I’ve noted that there is nothing quite as manly as anonymously talking shit over email, I’d like to remind said shit-talkers of some facts:
- There is an 85% chance that I could beat you up in real life, which, even in my weakened state due to illness, I will not hesitate to do if you’re up for it and would like a story. Just as my best “line” to women is “C’mon – make out with me for the story! You’ll be able to tell all your girlfriends that you made out with one of People’s 50 Hottest Bachelors! And you get to watch how disappointed they become when you tell them which one!”, I will gladly beat your ass so that you can tell your buddies about it. Not a problem, really.
- There is a 94% chance that I am smarter than you. And not just because most of the emails I’ve received have had gross misspellings or grammatical errors, but also because I’m just really fucking smart. I’ve read, like, six books this month. So suck on that.
- There is a 97% chance that I – in theory – make more money than you. Just because I waste what I make at my normal job on alcohol and shiny things and just because I don’t think I’ll ever get paid for my projects doesn’t mean that I’m not hypothetically rich.
- There is a 99.99% chance that I am more famous than you. Dude, I don’t know you – do I email you when your team loses? No, because I’m famous. I don’t have time for that shit. Also, did you hang out with Playmates for two nights last weekend? Didn’t think so.
So I’m doing alright, but thanks for taking the time to write me an email.
Giants fans, enjoy the victory. Eagles fans, yes, that was about the equivalent of your girlfriend telling you she’s cheating on you, but it’s still very early in the season. Yes, it really hurts. But all is not lost. Don’t give up so early. If we lose next week to the 49ers, maybe, but not right now.
I think I have/had mono.
This weekend I was essentially under house arrest. I was in my apartment about 23 hours a day from Thursday until Sunday, getting one hour of “outside time” each day for necessary errands (grocery shopping, dropping off/picking up laundry, buying more Theraflu, letting the wind blow over my only partially-clothed body because there was a nasty urine smell coming out of my pores, etc). It really, really fucking sucked.
But I am at work today – and not just because my employer probably would have fired me if I were to take another sick day (called out Thursday and Friday of last week). I feel better but I’m still not 100%. Still.
It was Saturday night when I started to really assess the situation. As recently as a year ago, I was one of the world’s leading hypochondriacs (before I realized that it required so much work). Therefore, I still have the requisite medical knowledge to properly diagnose myself.
When my sickness started, I thought it was a head cold. I was stuffed up, couldn’t sleep, felt exhausted. But the head cold and stuffiness soon went away and was replaced by a fever and chills, an intense lethargy, and swollen glands. Those these three conditions have decreased over the past few days, they are still present.
Then I remembered when one of my first girlfriends – before she was my girlfriend – got mono in junior high. She was tired all the time, had a fever, and had these giant swollen glands. We all treated her like she had rabies because we thought mono was so scandalous. But the fever, tiredness, and swollen glands…Hmmm…
And then I thought about how much making out I’ve been doing lately. My escapades with women over the past few months can only be described as “epic.” My partner in crime, my buddy Jeremy, and I have been so impressed with ourselves that we can only say “We’re back” when discussing our Lotharian behaviors. Of course, in order to preserve my loser image, I can’t write about this woman craziness here. However, I have started another blog which details my recent sexual escapades (or sexcapades, if you will): iamgettingsomuchpussyrightnowitscrazy.blogspot.com. There you can read about my cavorting with the opposite sex and all its explicit, makeoutalicious detail.
And then I put it all together: I have the symptoms of mono. I have been making out a lot lately. Therefore, I more than likely have recently contracted mono.
So, sweet. Apparently, you just have to take it easy, suck on some lozenges, and drink a lot of fluids, so that’s what I plan on doing for the next few days. I guess it’s just something that you have for a few days that eventually goes away. Like I said, I feel like I’m getting better, so hopefully this is on its way out.
One last thing: I haven’t mentioned any of this to my date for my buddy Greg’s wedding this weekend, so if we could kinda keep this between us, that would be most appreciated. I don’t think she’d be too happy to learn she has to spend a whole night with a guy with some lame, pseudo-STD. Jesus. If I were a real man, I would have gotten herpes or HPV or at least chlamydia, but mono? Really? What am I, 17? I have to admit, I’m kinda disappointed in myself – and not in the way that I should be.
I hung out with Playmates last weekend.
You know what? I’m tired again. Let’s pick this up in another post in a little bit. I need a break. Stupid mono.
