HOW IRONIC...NO SOONER do I start the flattening process, than I am flattened myself...
I'd just like to say that the above represents about five minute's worth of tissues and orange juice and that's during a relatively good five minutes. I've probably used up a whole giant sequoia's worth of tissues, for which I feel duly guilty. However, there's nothing like earth-shaking sneezes alternating with forced mouth-breathing and a nose running like an olympic sprinter and achy joints and a face that hurts and chills and horrid little coughs to make a person lose sight of the big environmental issues.
With luck, the flattened boxes from my attic will eventually make their way into another giant sequoia's worth of tissues, so that when it's your turn for this nasty virus called the common cold, you too can use fistfuls with impunity. You're welcome.
...
3 comments:
Now this is what I call plot.
(Way to go.)
Not that anybody deserves to suffer. Wish I could bring you some nice hot soup.
s
It plotted me! Came into my head (pun intended) after the fact. But thanks.
Just the thought of your nice hot soup raises my spirits...
kbs
That's the whole thrill, see? You never know what'll develop, once you put those fingers, neuronically wired, to the paper or keyboard.
(Or is it "neurotically"? Um, whatever.)
s
Post a Comment