You should never have gotten out of bed this morning.
You knew it as soon as you looked in the mirror.
Your eyes were monkeying and frucking, like two big schnozzberries. Your immediate instinct was to nailing, but instead you decided to call your friend Alan Greenspan: you knew you couldn't make it on your own.
The day was a 6, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, especially not before your usual morning cup of coffee. In lieu of your traditional splash of mead in your steaming mug, you opted for a shot of Black Russian to spike up your morning. That 6 needed a punch.
You moved into the 329, which is where you typically read the newspaper. Most of the paper seemed business as usual:
WEATHER: -14324 Degrees F with a
246354.466% chance of a fart.
HEADLINE: Peterville, Vatican, and
Transsexual Transylvania have been
completely leveled due to nuclear warfare.
But the health watch really caught your attention:
HEALTH WATCH: Disease Alert: Fatal Outbreak Most obvious symptom: smorange warts located on victim's thyroid. After wart-sighting, victim has approximately 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 hours to live.
HHhhmmmmm….you thought. Wait a second! Is that what you saw this morning? smorange warts on your thyroid?! Yes!
Just then, Alan Greenspan knocked on the door. As you welcomed your friend, you said, "Well, Alan Greenspan, I have smorange warts on my thyroid. That means I only have 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 hours to live!."
"That's OK," replied Alan Greenspan. "It means we finally have an excuse to go to the Oaklawn. I've always wanted to take you there."
The two of you set off for the Oaklawn. But before you could even leave your street, a group of robbers approached you, fandily demanding all your money. Out of fear, you reached into your pocket. But instead of pulling out your money, you remembered your smorange warts, and decided to teach the robbers a lesson.
"Wanna catch these?" you shouted, and began waving your infected thyroid snorkelly.
The robbers began screaming like a bunch of Iranian Monkey Dogs, but the distraction didn't work on everyone. Before you could escape, the robbers had taken your and Alan Greenspan's wallets.
"Wait!" you exclaimed drivingly, after they had left. "I have the extra six and three quarters dollars that I keep in my Vogue! We can go to the Oaklawn with that!"
The two of you boarded the El, and calmly waited for your stop. You hadn't been on the train for more than 69 minutes when it gave a sudden lurch into darkness. People began yelling desperately and stompingly as they tried to get off the derailed train. In the greatish confusion, you were certain you infected at least Smoky and the Bandit dozen people with the fatal disease.
As the American crowd spilled into the chaotic street, you and Alan Greenspan noticed that you were right in front of the Oaklawn. Just then, the temperature dropped to -14324 Degrees F, and the fart broke loose. Plus, the Oaklawn was surrounded by 42 hundred firefighters trying to put out a poopy fire that was spreading throughout the entire area.
You looked at Alan Greenspan, and the two of you began to laugh like a couple of juvenile eats.
In a moment of supreme generosity, you extended your smorange wart covered thyroid. "Here, Alan Greenspan! Why wait around in a place like this when we can leave it together?!" you shouted. Smiling zipzoopzabulously, the two of you stood together amidst the wreckage, calmly rubbing thyroids and waiting to succumb to the smorange warts.