Pig Flu

Two nights ago upon leaving the gym I felt somewhat woozy, as if someone had sucked the oxygen out of my head with some super powered industrial vacuum cleaner. My stomach churned and as I made my way towards the car I smelled burned hair. My first reaction was to consider I was having a stroke. For I’ve heard people strangely report smelling burned hair when having a stroke. My fears were eased when I saw a guy with long hair lighting a cigarette and he had accidentally caught his mane on fire. Naturally I would have tried to help him put out his head but I was in no condition to do so. I figured he had enough hair between him and his head that he would be able to put it out before his scalp started to sizzle like a piece of scrapple on skillet.

When I reached my car I began to shiver and my hand shook as I pulled the door open. It was then that I realized I might have contracted the blasted swine virus that had been galloping across the landscape. How I might have contracted this dreaded bug was a baffling goddamn mystery. I had thoroughly sanitized myself and my surroundings wherever I went. Yes, of course people got pissed off at me when I sprayed them with bleach when I came into contact with them but so is the cost of self-preservation. Sometimes you have to make a few enemies to stay healthy. I wore a surgical mask, rubber gloves and rubbed my body down with hand sanitizer, all to no avail. This damn pig flu had been tricky. Obviously there had been some sort of hole in my defenses but what? And then it hit me. While I was on the treadmill a very attractive women and I had been chatting. I said something witty, which of course comes naturally to me, and she playfully hit me in the arm. Aha! Yes, this was when I must have contracted the bug. I slammed my car door shut and headed back towards the gym. I would find this germ spreading seductress and suggest we ride this pig sickness out together in front of my fireplace on my giraffe fur rug, naked of course but first I needed to puke…