My lesson for the New Year? That the arrogance of assumed immunity will nail your ass every goddamned time. Trust me, strutting to and fro and silently mocking the constitutional weakness of those who have fallen ill around you does not engender any good will from whatever gods there may be. The Result: I am sick with the very first cold or flu of my entire adult life. But at least I don’t have a cough/chest thing going on. The last time I endured anything even remotely this hideous, I was seven-fucking-teen years old — and I had my tonsils out to remedy it. Yeah, that’s right — the last time I had an actual cold/flu thing going on…Duran Duran was at the top of the fucking charts, Ronald Reagan was the president of these United States, and my then perky titties looked like something other than the two beaver tails draped down the front of my chest that they now resemble. It’s positively shocking. As the marvelous actress Shelley Winters once exclaimed aloud, “Don’t look, boys — it’ll turn you gay!” God help me.
At any rate, I suspect I shall be dead soon, so please feel free to just carry on without me. To anyone whom I owe correspondence, bear with me…and accept my most miserable and hearfelt apologies. If it offers you even a sliver of comfort or solace, please know that my suffering is of biblical proportions.
However, before I expire, I would like to laboriously raise my plague-stricken head from off my feather pillow just long enough to wish a most Happy Birthday to two of my most favorite capricorn homies: and .
And to the rest of you — after I am gone…you may feed my fingertips to the wolverines. That shall be my legacy.