The Swedish Cure For “Man Colds”

DON’T.  EVER.  SNEEZE.

And If You Do, Never Tell A Living Soul About It.  Try Keeping Your Weak-Assed Proselytizing Inside, Brothers.  Woe-Is-Me Gets Lickety-Split Zero Empathy In The Land Of Pandemica.  

It’s Okay, Ragazzi.  Insufferable Sufferers Of The Incurable, Inconsolable Cold-To-End-All-Colds® Don’t Need Permission To Whine, Moan And Groan All In One Futile Wheezy-Winded Exhale. 

“No Worries, I’ll Write An Excusatory Note Riddled With Creative Alibis, Cryptic Buffoonery And Such Esoteric Whatnottery No One Will Ever Ask For The Proper Version Of The Truth.”

Except The Good Folks Keeping Score In Ehtch Argh.

FUNKY FACT/CONFESSIONAL

Yesterday, I Sneezed – Twice – Which Is Exactly Two Times More Than The Permissible Number Of Sudden, Uncontrollable Expulsions Of Air From My Mouth And Nasal Cavity … Making Me A Social Pariah Of The Lowest Degree.  

Moments After An Inconvenient Tickle, Tickle Morphed Into An Annoying, Crackling Cough, Cough.  For The Second Time In 8 Weeks, I Shuffled Off To Get Tested For COVID-19.  Because.  That’s How Coo-Coo Crazy The New World Disorder Is These Days.

Is There Anything Worse Than A Man Cold?

1. Yes … 
2. A Man With A Cold. 
3. The Man Flu. 
4. A Man With The Flu.
5. Dr. Flu Manchu

“Have We Completely Flipped Out And Skipped The Guacamole Dip And Gone Straight To The Dip Shittery?”

“I’M FINE, REALLY”

I Know A “Man Cold” The Moment It Breaks.  Stuffs Up My Nose.  Gets Me Sluggish – Oomph’d Out – Prone In Bed.

When My Throat Rattles Hoarse?  Why,  I Go All “Ricola” For “Fisherman’s Friend” – Peppermint Regret And A Curated Blend Of Chamomile-Hibiscus-Lavender-Ginger-Rose Hip-Lemon Balm-Dandelion-Echinacea-Sage Are My Favs.

For Extra Relief, I Get Yummy-Chummy With Ladle-Holstered, Hip Baba’s, Babci’s, Bubbe’s, Grandmama’s And Nonna’s For A Bottomless Bowl Of Their Homemade Chicken Soup. 

These, Too:  Spooning Hylle (*).  Napping To Netflix.  Sucking Lozenges.  

“A Nip Of Hennessy … Better Now?”

POST SNEEZE

A Day-And-An-Hour Later – I’m Waiting In Quasi Quarantine (My Front Door Is Open, Letting In September’s First Love Bite) – For The Test Results I Know Are Negative.

How Do I Know?

Another Because … For Starters, I Had Guac (With Braised Chicken Soft Tacos & Seared Ahi Tuna Sliders) On Monday Night. Guac Is Pure Brain Food And Cures Everything From The Munchies To Hyperbolic Blogging, Guac Is Known To Be Highly Hallucinogenic When Taken With Peyote And A Mezcal Chaser. Once Consumed Liberally By Mayan Oracles. According To The Cracker Jacks On Ancient Aliens. That’s Just Not True, Is It?  More Importantly, I’m Not Advocating The Use Of Illegal Narcotics, Unripe Avocados Or Watching Ancient Aliens.

“Also, Please See: Mick Intuition.  Kuched Smarts.  I’ve Sneezed Before.”  

WHO’S HYLLE?  WHO’S HYLLE?

Just The Softest.  Thing.  Ever.

She’s Swedish.  Queen Size. Like Latifah. Nefertiti. RuPaul.

A Fluffy Relic Now.  Discontinued.  The Remarkably Similar SKOGSFRAKEN Replaced Her. 

“Talking About IKEA Pillows, Dudes.“

Image by Paul Moore from Pixabay