Bugs and bastards

There is a chance that as you are reading this, I'm laying on a hospital bed getting a massive blood transfusion. If ever I am, then I will most likely be in a flimsy gown, enjoying a sponge bath from a hot, sexy nurse who tells me that I've been a bad, bad boy in need of a spanking. Perhaps not, who knows?

The reason that a sponge bath might be forthcoming is that I got bitten. Last week, while I was chugging down a beer and enjoying one of many cigarettes that night, I felt a sharp prick on my leg. I looked down and almost fainted at the sight of the biggest friggin' mosquito I've ever seen. I swear, I thought it was a fly until I realized I was turning pale as an involuntary blood donor. I wanted to take a whack at it, but it was just so big that I was scared shitless at what it might do if I missed. Then there's the possibility that my blood would splatter everywhere, most likely on my beer, not gonna happen. After a minute or so, the thing flew off with a pint of my blood in its abdomen.

So here I am, 5 days after and there's still a big red welt where the bug stuck its proboscis (fancy word, ain't it? Thanks wikipedia!) into me. I'm almost certain that I've been infected with a myriad of diseases and my immune system is in a losing battle. I've been taking my own prescription of "antibiotics", specifically beer and rhum, but I skipped a day so I don't think it's gonna be as effective anymore. Must remember to double the dose for the next weeks to make up for it. Then again, there is just no substitute for the proven therapeutic effects of hot nurses, so I just might let modern medicine have its way with me, over and over and over again.

*****

I was waiting for a text from a friend of mine this evening, hopefully some good news on a proposal I submitted for a big project. Not wanting to take any chances, I plugged in my phone to ensure that it didn't run out of juice for that important text or call.

Now it so happened that I had to go to the toilet, and of course I couldn't take my phone with me because there was no electrical outlet there. So I sat on the can and was starting to do my business when I heard my text message tone. Could it be that message? Ok, no need to panic, I'll get to it in a bit, I thought. Then I heard the tone again, then again, then another one, that's 4 messages in a row! This was definitely news, the urgency multiplied by the number of messages I got, I had to know RIGHT NOW!

I cut potty-time abruptly (insert really gross visual here) and ran out to my phone. There weren't any new messages, not a single one. Then I hear my text message alert tone again, waitaminute, that wasn't my phone... my neighbor had the same message alert tone as I did and had his phone's alert volume waaay up. I nearly shat my shorts in anguish. (quite literally, too)

I did the only thing I could to rectify the situation, I set my alarm to our message alert tone, cranked up the volume, and had the alarm go off every 30 seconds until I could conclude my unfinished crap. That'll teach the bastard some phone etiquette, I hope.