December 12, 2004

An Open Letter

DEAR FLU SHOT SHORTAGE,

I LOVE you! SO MUCH! Let’s make out!!! Believe me, FLU SHOT SHORTAGE, if I could find the living of personification of you, I WOULD kiss you. Oh yes indeedy, I would! RIGHT ON THE MOUTH. With tongue. A good old fashioned saliva-swap that would cause a veritable horde of individual Viruses (Virii? Virupoda?) to march from my tastebuds onto yours, and in two days, oh my FINE FEATHERED SHORTAGE, you would be SO FLIPPING SORRY for popping into personified existence in time for me to lay one on you. VERY SORRY INDEED, as you turned into a fevered, trembling, hot-then-cold snot-factory with a HUGE mucus quota to fill.

As I sit here snuffling and hacking and sipping at piping hot Panda Garden Wonton Soup, stoned as a goat on Nyquil, random sentences from student essays I saw ten years ago in grad school keep popping into my head. Funnily enough, I do not think ANY of the sentences were penned by MY students. They were sentences SO INEXPLICABLE that they became the stuff of legend among the T.A.’s
SAMPLES:

I was die of laugh and charm.
The free-flying will eat the pattern.
And my favorite: Uncle Ben…was Death!

I have three things to say about this:

1) I am feeling a lot like Uncle Ben, actually, and shall blog again when I have 4 working brain cells.
2) I wish someone would write an epic prose-poem about the free-flying. I would pay good money for it. Although to be ENTIRELY honest, I would probably wait for the paperback.
3) I forgot what three was ALREADY. My brain is shot. Perhaps it is time to back slowly away from the keyboard.

Posted by joshilyn at December 12, 2004 7:41 PM
Comments

While I have not had the flu, I have had about 33% of my State calling me to demand their shot or they will sue my arse. I refer them to our Gov. Office.
and no, I do not work for Chiron.

Posted by: Shawn B. at December 12, 2004 8:00 PM

Poor baby! Although I am impressed by your ability to write anything while taking Nyquil! Feel better soon... and look at the bright side. You're getting it over with before Christmas! But I wouldn't put money on Sam and Maisy....

Posted by: Amy at December 12, 2004 8:38 PM

To bed.
To bed.
To bed, I said.

Posted by: Heather at December 12, 2004 10:31 PM

It was Uncle BIN!

Uncle BIN was death!

And do not forget when the young author felt the same of her family's reproach... "Five finger print!"

BTW The free-flying will eat the pattern was from an essay on an essay by Stephen Jay Gould. There's an interesting lozenge for you.

Love,
SKIPPY!

Posted by: Skippy at December 18, 2004 9:47 PM

How long have you had comments viewable on here??? WOMAN! Don't prompt me!

Posted by: zippy at December 21, 2004 5:59 PM