I do believe that I have a case of what the medical community refers to as Influenza. Down here in the hood, we call it Dem Flewbugz, Y’all.
The symptoms: Snotty head; coughing up lung biscuits; sore neck and back; stomach cramps; headache; blurry vision; fever chills; bad hair; bad breath; zitty chin; bad BO; decreased will to live; increased sense of whininess; no ambition; no friends; no happiness; no tenderness; nobody loves me but my momma, and she could be jiving too.
Don’t tell me to go home from work, because I have frittered away all of my sick leave for the year on lesser illnesses. I do have 16 hours of vacation time, but I am saving it so I can take off work the 26th and 27th to be with family for the holidays.
How sick am I? All the Fatboy has had to eat this morning is a can of sprite, which I drank very, very slowly. That is extraordinary! As I am sure that you are aware, sprite does not contain caffeine, alcohol, or pork. Those are the three criteria for something to be ingested by me.