my body's allergic to politics.
I just sneezed seven times in a row.
"Seven times?" you say, "She must be exaggerating."
And surprisingly enough, I am not.
Because, you see, after I got to three I thought,
"Holy shit. This could go on for awhile! I better start counting so I can tell my entire friends list on lj that I sneezed n amount of times."
(Actually, that's a lie. Well the first part wasn't, but the second part was.
I mean, you guys are nice and everything, but come on, I have a life.)
So it was there and then I started counting and made it to seven within a few minutes.
Good lord, I don't know what's gotten into my sinuses,
but I'm looking at what's coming out of them and it isn't very pretty.
Ok, make that nine. I've sneezed nine times now.
But not in a row.
Seven times in a row.
Then two extras a little while later in a small row by themselves.
They must be the loner sneezes who can't seem to keep up with the rest.
At least they have one another.
Diagram:
sneezesneezesneezesneezesneezesneezesneeze
typetypetypetype about sneezes typetypetypetype
sneezesneeze
typetype about two loner sneezes typetype
The nine sneezes just led a rebellion in my sinus cavity.
And they have now ceased fire.
I feel like they may just be pretending to have finished while what they are really doing is regrouping and plotting a new and greater blitzkrieg of my sinuses which has effectively given me some time to type this before they unleash their next attack and destroy my nose all together by blowing it off my face.
Maybe I'm just paranoid, but probably not.
I'm hated by pretty much everything else, why not my sneezes too?
Don't tell me this is out of the realm of possibilities,
because you'd be wrong.
Rational, but wrong.
It's going to be a long night.
feel like a sea cucumber.
Do you know what a sea cucumber is?
Well, you probably think it sounds familiar, but can't quite recall why.
This is a sea cucumber:
see cyoocummmbr.
"And why does Anne feel like one?" you're thinking.
Well, it's simple really... and we'll get to it in a minute.
Along with the WWIII that's going on in my sinuses,
there's a fucking coup d'etat going on in my lungs via my diaphram.
I assume my diaphram is sick of getting the shaft. It probably doesn't feel like it gets enough attention and now it's pissed.
"The lungs get all the attention," it tells me, "and what do I get? Nothing."
So it has decided to attempt to expell my lungs out of my body by making me cough every five seconds.
And this is where the small biology lesson comes in.
A sea cucumber, when upset or provoked, throws up it's internal organs to scare off predators.
(Don't believe me? Read the wikipedia article I linked, dumbass. I can't make this kind of shit up.)
And I feel like I'm doing that.
But not intentionally to scare off predators, just unintentionally to scare off potential boyfriends.
This also applies to last night, when I was puking up my guts eight times over when there was nothing left in my body.
It was fantastic.
Seriously?
No.
My body's obviously not any good at politics.
Check my voting record, and you'd agree.
"Seven times?" you say, "She must be exaggerating."
And surprisingly enough, I am not.
Because, you see, after I got to three I thought,
"Holy shit. This could go on for awhile! I better start counting so I can tell my entire friends list on lj that I sneezed n amount of times."
(Actually, that's a lie. Well the first part wasn't, but the second part was.
I mean, you guys are nice and everything, but come on, I have a life.)
So it was there and then I started counting and made it to seven within a few minutes.
Good lord, I don't know what's gotten into my sinuses,
but I'm looking at what's coming out of them and it isn't very pretty.
Ok, make that nine. I've sneezed nine times now.
But not in a row.
Seven times in a row.
Then two extras a little while later in a small row by themselves.
They must be the loner sneezes who can't seem to keep up with the rest.
At least they have one another.
Diagram:
sneezesneezesneezesneezesneezesneezesneeze
typetypetypetype about sneezes typetypetypetype
sneezesneeze
typetype about two loner sneezes typetype
The nine sneezes just led a rebellion in my sinus cavity.
And they have now ceased fire.
I feel like they may just be pretending to have finished while what they are really doing is regrouping and plotting a new and greater blitzkrieg of my sinuses which has effectively given me some time to type this before they unleash their next attack and destroy my nose all together by blowing it off my face.
Maybe I'm just paranoid, but probably not.
I'm hated by pretty much everything else, why not my sneezes too?
Don't tell me this is out of the realm of possibilities,
because you'd be wrong.
Rational, but wrong.
It's going to be a long night.
feel like a sea cucumber.
Do you know what a sea cucumber is?
Well, you probably think it sounds familiar, but can't quite recall why.
This is a sea cucumber:
see cyoocummmbr.
"And why does Anne feel like one?" you're thinking.
Well, it's simple really... and we'll get to it in a minute.
Along with the WWIII that's going on in my sinuses,
there's a fucking coup d'etat going on in my lungs via my diaphram.
I assume my diaphram is sick of getting the shaft. It probably doesn't feel like it gets enough attention and now it's pissed.
"The lungs get all the attention," it tells me, "and what do I get? Nothing."
So it has decided to attempt to expell my lungs out of my body by making me cough every five seconds.
And this is where the small biology lesson comes in.
A sea cucumber, when upset or provoked, throws up it's internal organs to scare off predators.
(Don't believe me? Read the wikipedia article I linked, dumbass. I can't make this kind of shit up.)
And I feel like I'm doing that.
But not intentionally to scare off predators, just unintentionally to scare off potential boyfriends.
This also applies to last night, when I was puking up my guts eight times over when there was nothing left in my body.
It was fantastic.
Seriously?
No.
My body's obviously not any good at politics.
Check my voting record, and you'd agree.