Bushwhacked
OhoooowoooowooooOhooooo! Help me, Jesus, Buddha, Allah, Yo' Mama -- anyone! I'm so sick I can't even see straight. My throat hurts, my head hurts, I'm dizzy, nauseated, sweating, shivering, coughing and mad as the proverbial hatter.And I sincerely mean that.
It's as if I drank a bottle of Wild Turkey in one sitting, then shoved a wild boar tusk down my throat while sitting on a block of ice in a sauna next to some huge, hairy naked guy that smells of salami (God, I'm gonna hurl).
Been a long time since I've been this sick. Like, can't get out of bed sick.
I did, however, watch the debates last night, forced myself to stay awake despite the gallons of Nyquil and the tissues stuffed up each nostril.
Now, either I was delirious with fever or Bush actually made it through the entire debate without looking foolish. I tend to believe it was the delirium. I was so delirious that I thought I heard Bush make some funnies -- and this is just how sick I really am: I giggled. I smiled. I felt the need to touch him, wrap my arms around him, smell his hair, kiss his glaringly red neck...
Arrrggghhh!
I must be dying. I am not thinking in a rational manner, and I am filled with affection toward mine enemies, which, I've heard told, is the first symptom one experiences before entering the long, dark tunnel, the first warning sign that one will soon be speeding toward that bright and loving light.
So, I will say goodbye now.
But not before I state how angry I am that Google no longer lists my two-months-old website. Been over a week with no listing, though my blog is listed (and the cache regularly updated). My hits have gone down considerably this week (well, a DUH!), and I am angry. But I know why my site isn't being listed, and it's a simple reason at that: people are linking to my blog and not to my site. And there's another simple reason for that as well: I have no "links" page on my site, so I'm not linking to folks outside of my blogroll, hence no reciprocation.
Why, you may ask, do I not have a links page? Well, it's basically because my web designer didn't put one in (negligence on my part), so I've attempted to build a links page myself.
Hahahahahaaaaaaaaaa! Woo! Heehaw!
Ain't gonna happen. Not in this lifetime it ain't. I am sadly incompetent.
And I can't get hold of my web designer. So I shall remain linkpage-less until I do. Which means I shall probably remain unlisted on Google as well as various inferior search engines that I can't believe people actually use. I mean, c'mon, why do Yahoo, Dogpile and the rest even bother? You throw something in their engines and you get fifty unrelated pages. Or you get absolute shit. "Dogpile" indeed.
What the hell was I talking about, anyway? Oh, yes, the debates...
Kerry's head popped out of my T.V. last night, bounced along my bedroom floor and up onto my bed while I screamed and screamed and screamed. The head was not pleased with my Bush-affection, you see. It snuggled down into my pillow, turned to face me with its wild eyes and repeated "I believe in science, I have a plan" over and over again until I passed out.
Can you tell I'm delirious?
I see pretty rainbows and sparkly pink beings named Jed floating in my midst. I smell burnt cherry candy, and I hear bluejays screaming my name.
Now can you tell?
Hugs and kisses till I return with faculties intact...
3 Comments:
Okay, this:
It's as if I drank a bottle of Wild Turkey in one sitting, then shoved a wild boar tusk down my throat while sitting on a block of ice in a sauna next to some huge, hairy naked guy that smells of salami should win an award for best-ever description of being sick.
AND I hope you're feeling better soon
AND yes, in case you're still wondering, you were definitely delirious
Aw, Theresa, thanks so much for the get well wishes! I'm starting to feel a bit better now...'Course, I have no choice -- being the mother of four kids, all hell breaks loose if I lie down for more than ten minutes at a time. ;-)
And hey, Rebecca, welcome! YAY! Another Google self-abuser!
I always think some Google spook is watching my every move, and he's going, "Jesus Christ, it's that Ms. Lori chick ego-searching AGAIN!" to his fellow Google spook (probably the one spying on *you*), and the both of them laugh and laugh...
I do not think so.
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