Sick, sick, sick. Hurling buicks, tossing cookies, calling up ralph on the big white phone, yawning in Technicolor, kneeling at the porcelain throne, sick, sick, sick.
Finally, after dodging the virus at least six of my pals have had, I am unwell.
This winter just gets better and better, illness, flu, ice making me fall on my ass, shoveling till the snowbanks are too high to shovel, and now I'm out of propane for the shop and can't work out there till I get some.
I think I'm going to bed for a month with a stack of DVDs and a case of everclear. Who needs a liver when you have this kind of winter.