Tuesday, May 8, 2012

It might be time to pick out a gravestone

Things are serious around here, ya'll.

There have been a lot of complaints lately....

"...my right ear is TOTALLY PLUGGED!"

"....I can't focus- everything is BLURRY!"

"....I'm so tired I could fall asleep RIGHT NOW!"

"...Ugh! My chest is the most congested chest IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND!"

I thought that I might have to call an ambulance, but then I found the NyQuil. You see, Brock has a man cold and he is most likely dying.
Send prayers, ASAP. I'm setting up a charity fund, just in case.

Of course, I'm sick as well, but no one in my house is even aware of that fact.

"...you don't have anything even CLOSE to what I am dealing with!"

Please, keep Brock in your prayers. I need to keep him around. He's pretty useful and I like him and stuff.




11 comments:

  1. OH NO!! Not a mancold! My condolences. That is the worst sickness ever in the history of all sicks. I feel your pain, Jo. And of course you couldn't possibily be as sick as your husband. You're not A MAN. Silly woman.

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  2. Wow it really does sound like he's on his way out. Seeing as I'm not in thick with the Loard Almighty, I will ask my christian mother in-law to say a little prayer on my behalf.
    Because I care. Mainly for you. And you really wouldn't make good jail material if you decided to murder him due to his sad ass man flu status. You're way too pretty.

    Get better soon darlin x

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  3. You know, I act the same way when I am sick. I get really pathetic and sappy. Manfriend is more like you and doesn't slow down. He thinks he is too manly to be sick.

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  4. I am good as a sick man. No one knows I am sick until I collapse. Probably because I refuse to admit I am sick. I don't know which way is better.

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  5. Hope he feels better soon! Just keep pushing the NyQuil.

    Although NyQuil sometimes gives me bad dreams, so that might be worse to deal with.

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  6. Hope YOU feel better! The only reason my family knows I am not my healthy self is I sound like a frog. Oh, yeah and Brock, hope he survives...

    NyQuil: The stuffy, sneezy, how-the-hell-did-I-end-up-in-the-dog-kennel medicine.

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  7. Ha! Wussies. They're ALL wussies.

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  8. Oh Sweet Bird of Youth the fatal man cold. They must learn this at an early age because every time my son J gets a freakin' sniffle he milks it like he's a revolutionary soldier with yellow fever. Oh, the drama...

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  9. Oh poor, poor baby! I'm talking about you. Nothing like a sick husband to drive one to drinking!

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  10. The Man Cold. {{shiver}} Godspeed to you, my friend.

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