Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Hi. I'm Your Salmonella Hallucination.

It's me, Teddy Roosevelt. The 26th President of the United States and the hero of San Juan Hill. I'm here with Ming the Merciless and the kid who beat you up in fifth grade dressed in a buckle hat. We're going to pay you a visit about 12 hours after you finish that Thanksgiving dinner and the Salmonella Enterica develop a nasty colony in your intestines. Bully!

Kind of ironic, really. I was always a fan of taking chances and living the adventurous life. I probably would have slapped you on the back and chuckled in approval when I heard you were going to prepare one of those giant mail-order turduckens. But now I'll probably just hover over your bed with this threatening grin on my face as you become more and more dehydrated. But that's what adventures are all about, aren't they? Sometimes you win an election for governor, and people want you to battle corrupt political machines. Sometimes you improperly thaw a chunk of poultry and spend three days throwing up and begging someone up in heaven to kill you.

Ming wants me to say hello. He can't wait to sing the Ave Maria while you desperately try to claw the cap off the Advil bottle. He's been practicing and everything. I think he sounds pretty good, but you be the judge.

You know, it's not like I haven't had my share of sickness. I suffered incredibly debilitating asthma, and I was as weak as a kitten. My father drove me to exercise and take up boxing until my condition improved. Your situation will clear up much, much sooner than mine -- assuming you don't actually die when bacteria spread to your bloodstream. But let's not spoil the surprise.
Ha. I said spoil. That's kind of funny.

Before I go, I will give you a couple of tips. The second Jack Daniels will actually help you slide through this a little easier. But the third definitely will not. That'll just give you the kind of headache that will make Ming's Rack of Despair feel even worse. Also, don't get up and have some pie when you think you're on the mend. You fucked up the pie too.

Oh, and one more: When you finally make it to the bathroom it's going to give Rough Rider a whole new meaning.

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