gross
Publicke Notice
There's nothing wrong with me, except my age, and even that's not exactly wrong, but people my age are supposed to get This Test that I'm getting in a few hours. If you Google "ghastly" "disgusting" "horrible", you'll find out which test I'm getting. Last night I had to drink 4 liters of the nastiest beverage you ever tasted, and I'm not going to tell you what happened after that.
Anyway, Vleeptron may not be running on all twelve cylinders for the next day or two, and we apologize. (They've promised to dope me up to the gills with really whacky stuph, so if I do stumble in here and post something, it may be really strange.)
posted by Vleeptron Dude | 10:01
4 Comments:
Oh dear.
There is justice however. Whenever SWMBO comes home from the doctor that treats Female Problems and insists on describing it to you in Vivid Detail, you can now regale her with the details of the Medical Exam that Most Men Dread.
And, you are now all squeeky cleen inside and out. It's actually a bit healthy for people to actually do that occasionally.
My dear Vleeptronian friends (Jim especially),
The ghastly horrible medical test is over, and now I must share with you the doctor's diagnosis. The news is not good. I have Heartburn.
I can never eat Kentucky Fried Chicken again.
And I can never eat a humongous Dagwood Sandwich just before going to bed.
Please be with me and help me through this next, sad phase of my life.
Meanwhile, I am considering Jim's advice about making a regular habit of drinking the 4 liters of the horrible beverage (all within 4 hours, followed by hours of Never Mind) so that I can experience the Joy of Being Clean.
Goodbye, Colonel Harlan Sanders. We've had almost a half-century of Love and Fun and Pleasure together, you and I. I loved your Original Recipe. I loved your Extra Crispy. And now I guess I'll never know what those eleven secret Herbs and Spices really were.
I will miss you so much. Your memorial photo is inside the entrance of every KFC all over the world. Maybe from time to time I'll wander in to gaze on your smiling face. And to smell the wonderful fragrance floating into my nostrils from the Deep Fat Friers.
Your friend,
Bob
Hmm.
Everything in moderation.
And there is always Prilosec.
What's moderation?
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