Actually, here is an awesome benefit of having an acceptably scary sounding disease: total and ultimate pity. People are afraid of pneumonia, people have to be hospitalized for pneumonia, I am told 50 times a day to get more rest. Basically, I am ordered to take naps. This, actually, is a system I can work with.
Forget the yuckyness, if it gets me manditory naps, this might not be so bad.
So today I couldn't get over this craving for Bubba-Hotep. So, I cried. I didn't cry for Bruce Campbell, but I cried for Bruce Campbell and not having any friends that understand when I get The Ballad of Chasey Lain stuck in my head. That's what I cried for, and I know what it means, but I said it outloud to Corelyn and I think that's enough times for the day.
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