Notice how I kept that clean? With the twenty one nonsense? Because twenty-one is the latest drinking age among my readers and so I made sure I was not going to corrupt anyone. By accident or whatnot. No corruption here. All innocent and good.

underage drinking is bad

See?

Not that I’ve been drinking. Hardly that. I’ve got something living in my digtestive system. An unwanted guest. A guest I could likey Google but that’s like when you see a picture of a bed bug. Bed bugs are harmless in actual pixels but when you magnify those little motherfuckers (oops, G rated no more) everyone is all STERILIZE MY HOUSE! GET ME A THOUSAND HEPA FILTERS, PRONTO! BURN MY MATRESS!

Basically, I do not need a visual of the digestive intruder currently intruding on my digestion. If you’ve got one, keep it to yourself.

(blarch)

The kids have been vomiting since, what? I don’t know, really. It’s a blur. I haven’t slept since it all began. Might have been twenty oh two. March. I think.

My least favorite thing about barfing is this: when it comes so fast that it flies up your sinuses and it feels like your head has been filled with acid. Yay, that.

And still, managed to eke out a new post at interskew.com. I make someone cry. It’s funny.