Watch me bounce off the walls

OTC 24-hour decongestant or speed?

I took some medicine this morning because my entire head had turned into a snot factory. Now I feel like my hearts about to bust out of my chest. My mind’s been running on cruise control set at 110 mph. I can’t keep myself focused on one thought for about 2 minutes at a time. The mucus tap, however, has been shut off. Got to give to get, I guess.

Two interesting new stories:

1. Apparently there was some snake oil salesman/doctor on the local news the other night touting his newly discovered “fat” virus. One of my co-workers gave me an abbreviated version of the report. This doctor claims that he has identified a virus present in obese people, causing their largeness. Well, damn. No fat person will ever have to claim responsibility for being fat. Either a virus, a gene, or McDonalds turned them into a Large Marge. The Ho-Ho’s they are cramming into their mouth have nothing to do with it. Riiiight.

What I want to know is where do you catch this virus? Krispy Kreme? Golden Corral? Those places seem to have a pretty high concentration of fat people. Can some unwitting skinny person be a carrier of the virus? I think my husband is. Then again, it could be all those late nights in college he plied me with macaroni and cheese and Papa John’s. Either way, he must be to blame for the pounds I packed on in school.

I actually prefer to think of myself as cursed by God with my weight issues. Sounds more significant than a virus.

Screw this whole fat virus nonsense. What the world needs is a big old dose of Operation Skinny Bitch. Put down the Boston Crème and step onto the scale, chubby.

2. My husband relayed the other story last night. Somewhere in these great States, an interesting lawsuit was just settled. For about a year, a married man and single woman carried on an affair. During each encounter, the man had enough foresight to use protection. Little did he know what was happening to the post-coital condoms once he tossed them into the trash.

After this illicit romance ended, the woman confronted her lover with “You are the father of my child.” Needless to say, this came as quite a shock to him. Apparently, the woman had taken semen from the used prophylactic and had it artificially inseminated into herself. How this information finally came to light is unknown, or even why this woman would do this. Was it a revenge thing, since the relation ship was over? Did she just want to be able to squeeze child support out of him? If so, what a completely fucked up reason to conceive a child! How totally wrong.

But wait! The story doesn’t end there. The man decided to call her bluff and take her to court for stealing his sperm and avoid a costly paternity suit and subsequent child support. In one of the more bizarre legal decisions in recent years (and there’ve been a few), the court found that the woman did not in fact steal the man’s semen from the used condom because it was “a gift”.

Motherfuck.

Now apparently every time I blow my nose at someone’s house and toss the tissue in the trash, I am giving them a little present of me. Wonder if this includes used tampons?

Give the gift that keeps on giving.

Looks like the old camping rule about leave nothing behind will now begin applying to sexual encounters. Maybe I can strike it rich making little baggies for taking home your used condoms, like smaller versions of the ones people buy at PetsMart for dog crap.

Gotta love this country.