Sick of It
It's finally here. Today is the last of my four days of training (even though I don't actually get to leave until tomorrow). I expected to wake up in my protozoa-coated hotel room elated - confident of my ability to fake it through one more day without flipping out and skull-fucking someone (I mean that in a bad way).
Instead, I woke up feeling like Mike Tyson had raped me. Everything hurt. The glands in my armpits are the size of Kiwis and I'm hacking up a putrid substance the texture of space shuttle glue.
Someone is to blame for this. Bastards.
Comments
You should really have a doctor check out those transvestite hookers before you bring them back to your room.
Posted by: DaMonkeyCode | December 14, 2006 10:12 PM
Good luck, one more day. You can do it. Get some Mucinex DM and Nyquil...
I'm so living vicariously through you at the moment...paralell universe and all that happy dog shit...
Posted by: It's Me... Maven | December 15, 2006 02:10 PM
Saw your blog bookmarked on Digg.I love your site and marketing strategy.
Posted by: Man to Woman | February 2, 2010 05:43 PM
Wise men like aristotle once also predicted this kind of thing happening and They said it was just part of our existance.
Posted by: asian shemale | June 2, 2010 02:24 PM