No, I'm not in Guantanamero

I feel like hell, y'all.

Damn petri dishes that Sunshine calls grandkids. I can breathe through my nose again, at least. Well, mostly. Now if I could just get the fresh air into my lungs through all the crud in them, I'd have a chance at living.

I have this nightmare vision of those little green fuckers from the Mucinex commercials colonizing my lungs much like the British Empire tried to take over the world once. Gross.

It's been hard to just get through my daily routine, so I haven't had any words to share. However, I remembered that I told y'all to look for my carcass in Cuba for spreading plague if I didn't post soon, so I did want to let you know I wasn't in Guantanamero.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go cough up a lung.