Got home from work yesterday. First day back at work after a weekend in Seattle. Anyhow, got back home and had me some chills. Bad chills.

Fiance stuck the ol’ thermometer in my ear.


Now, it will disappoint some of you to know that there were no “Dirty Sanchez” experiences in my life lately. Nor were there any “Cleveland Steamers” or “Hot Lunches.” Not even a “Roman Shower.” In fact, my life has been blessedly free of contact with other people’s bodily fluids.


Except for this baby. This weekend, we spent a lot of time hanging out with my friend’s baby. The baby has an actual name, but I like to think of him as “Gurgle Poot,” since those seem to be his favorite sounds.

Parents seem to have endless patience for dealing with infant body fluids. I don’t know if some gene kicks in after birth, but that gene is not active in me. As I lay suffering in bed last night, unable to get warm enough, unable to sweat, generally feeling like shit, all I could think about was “I can’t wait ’til that baby is 18 so I can kick his ass FOR NO REASON.”

Better yet, instead of kicking his ass, I will throw up on him. Then drool. I will make sure to throw up milk on him so he can have basically the same color experience I had when he threw up on me.

I slept for basically 12 hours, waking up only to hallucinate and vomit. The hallucinations were so intense that I have no evidence that I actually did vomit. The fiance swears I did not, but I swear I did. She pointed out that I hadn’t eated anything since the previous day and, thus, the odds of me having anything left in my stomach were poor. I pointed out that penguins can store food in their gullet until the baby penguin is born and then throw it up in the baby’s mouth.

She pointed out that I was not a penguin, which I dispute. Also, Kitty Michaels is keeping his distance, which suggests I may have tried to “feed” him.

Took a half day from work today. Home now and took the temperature. 102.

I am going to hope that I am actually writing this instead of imagining that I am writing it. Excuse me. now. The ice is breaking up beneath my feet and I have to dive to escape a walrus.

  1. Maybe the cat ate it.

  2. I’m pissed off that Joey still hasn’t written yet. He better write soon, or else!


  4. [quote comment=”18195″]I AM JOHN ALE![/quote]

    wait, I thought you were a penquin, not a walrus? =O

  5. Sound like a penguin to me….

  6. I wish I was a penguin.

  7. Are you sure she stuck the thermometer in your ear and not your rear?