Pathetic Sick Man Alert Involving Angry Chest Badgers


Yes, we are aware that one of our high school friends is recovering from a very, very serious back problem, and that the global economy is being dragged down the tubes by China.

But the blog is a sick man, and we need to whine.

Shut up.

We are now on on Day 18 of Killer Horror Chest Gunk That Is Not Flu, But Which Is Way Worse Than Ebola With Angry Chest Badgers.

We are now on our second doctor and third antibiotic.

And we are pretty much coughing our head off today because Doctor Number Two said that, most of the time, cough medicine is a very bad idea.

Which means this blog has spent $45 on three bottles of cough medicine that, turns out, has actually thrilled the 10 billion killer horror virus germs in our chest and bronchial tubes, which feel like angry chest badgers on crack.

They are very, very angry because the blog has thrown everything at them but the kitchen sink, and yet they continue burrowing like mad and breeding.

(I cannot wait to hear the doctor’s comments about yesterday’s chest x-ray: “old, round patient presented with what appears to be 10 billion killer horror chest badgers, for which there is no treatment protocol, so we are going to go play golf.”)

In addition to the three, count them, THREE ANTIBIOTICS, we have attacked the chest badgers with potions and lotions and natural whup-ass recommended by my sister, Junior’s girlfriend the natural food and meds expert, and from my late Mom’s arsenal of cure-alls, including:

  • Colloidal silver
  • Black tea with a whole lemon and honey
  • Tea made from “sage” (and possibly mud) from the Missus’ garden
  • Cough medicine with expectorant
  • Cough medicine without expectorant
  • Cough medicine with built in phlegm
  • $28 worth of Lemsip
  • A No. 2 washtub of freshly squeezed lemon juice (from the Missus’ garden)
  • A bucket of Vitamin C tablets and pills and dust PLUS…
  • Small silver packets (shaped like McDonald’s ketchup) of the super duperest, purest, most natural form of concentrated Vitamin C on the planet, which, as we understand it, is made by using the super collider super conductor to collapse the universe, squeeze out every Vitamin C atom, and then suck the suns from 10 million galaxies right out of their orbits and in to the little silver packets (which cost $1.50 each), creating a Nuclear Vitamin C paste that tastes like chewable vitamin C tablets that have been rolled through a hospital tuberculosis ward.
  • Vicks VapoRub, applied liberally to my chest, the soles of my feet inside woolly socks, and to my moustache (and, thus, my eyeballs)
  • Throat lozenges purchased from gas stations, pharmacies, health food shops, and a guy named Iggy who hangs out behind the pool hall
  • Oil of Eucalyptus (inhaled over the bathroom sink, just before horking up numerous lungs and a tennis shoe)
  • Ibuprofen
  • Panadol
  • Codeine
  • Asthma inhaler
  • and, while we do not recall consuming moonshine or heroin, we could be wrong

This is because, even on the blog’s best of days, keeping track of stuff is not our strong suit.

So the blog trying to keep an organized  record of when we took all of the above, using the Missus’ cute little square sheets of papers, in a rainbow of attractive colors, is the ultimate effort in futility.

This is because a) we almost certainly have early onset Alzheimers due to high school football concussions, according to the Missus; b) what was the question; and c) no one on the planet, including ourownself, can read the blog’s handwriting.

To wit: “I think that either says, ‘took 2 ibuprofen and both antibiotics’ or possibly ‘gargled with squirrel juice and licked 2 emus’.”

And to top this off, the blog’s temperature has at times SOARED to 38 degrees Celsius, which, if you convert it, must be well over 900 degrees.

Touch and Go

It makes the humble blog uncomfortable saying this, but, considering our numerous near death experiences, and being subjected to weeks of New Zealand’s awful daytime TV shows, we have been far braver than the Yanks on a Train.

While we don’t begrudge the French government giving these guys all sorts of honors, the blog figures that, at the least, we deserve the Congressional Medal of Honor, an iron lung, some very old Scotch, and a new hobbit puppy.

But that’s just the blog. All heroically pathetic.

Coughing at the bottom of the world.

In the cold, New Zealand winter rain.



One Response to “Pathetic Sick Man Alert Involving Angry Chest Badgers”

  1. Lillian L.. says:

    I know you have really felt awful and I am so sorry. I also know you are mending as your humor is returning like a flash fire. Just stop drinking squirrel juice and licking emus. Stick with the Vit. C, CS, hot toddies and lots of citrus fruits. Add some garlic capsules–or fresh garlic–to you daily intake. And gargle with warm salt water. That is all.

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