From left: an elephant, a penguin, Amos McGee, Dan Brooks (dead)
Guess who lost ten pounds in the last four days? If you guessed Ugandan refugees or someone else with real problems, you’d be right, but I would still glare balefully at you and demand soup. Then I would not eat the soup, because my throat hurts. My throat hurts so much that I make an involuntary motion with my arm every time I swallow. It hurts so much that I actually went to the doctor, who A) feigned pity and B) gave me antibiotics. So now I am fevered, swallow-averse and nauseous, and the self-pity—the real kind of pity, the purest form—rolls forth like, I dunno, breakfast. There is no Combat! blog today. Probably, there will be no Combat! blog tomorrow. I’m sorry that everything has been so crappy this week, but I’ll make it up to you on Monday. Or I will be dead. Either way, everyone will be much happier.
Even if you only spit out a paragraph, you’re still fucking funny when you’re down.
Take care bud.
I, for one, would be gravely saddened if you died. I would even briefly consider giving you my spot on a space shuttle when the Earth is being evacuated before an asteroid destroys its surface.
You should have guest bloggers. I propose Ben Al-Fowlkes. I recently read his article on Gary Goodridge and it was well-handled. I almost cared about Goodridge, someone I previously knew nothing about. Not enough to offer him my spot on the space shuttle, but more than before. Al-Fowlkes offers you a lot of links that make me interested in his politics.
Or get that guy who had the blog about hip hop and urban planning. I can’t remember his name or his blog, but he seems to pop up when you mention Das Racist.
Feel better. Though, I’m pretty sure those microbes are on a mission from God. Shouldn’t have talked so much smack about Santorum.