An Open Letter to the Sickie Gnomes, Malicious Viral Imps, Minor Powers That Be, or Just Whoever Got The Health Work Order WRONG
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HIRE THIS WRITER
Okay, this sick thing can stop now. Ready for it. It can just “go away” now. I had a lot of laughs, learned a thing or two. But if it’s all the same to the Sickie Gnomes or the Malicious Viral Imps or the Minor Powers That Be or just whoever got the health work order wrong, I’m really done here, thank you. Hello? Who’s running this store, anyways? Something went wrong here, I’m pretty sure.
I think I’m quite ready for normal breathing, uninterrupted nights, regular eating, and some of that good old fashioned spunky energy. Yep, I think that “Blah” feeling can just pack its bags and “Hit The Road, Jack” if you know what I mean. Know what I mean?
I did what was expected of me and helped bank up a few pharmaceutical companies and “over the counter” symptom suppressor suppliers, I’m always willing to do my part. It’s part of being an American, you know, funneling money into the good old Market Economy that trickles into everyone’s pocket. I appreciate the benefits I’ve received and I’m quite happy to give back. Quite happy, you bet.
Now, I apologize if I missed something on my end, like pressing the “Well” button somewhere that sort of sets all that “good stuff” in motion, or filling out the work order, or affixing an expiration date, or whatever it is that I missed. I’m kind of new at this, you know. I haven’t had a hanging-on affliction in really, a good long while, rather outside of memory now that I think about it. It’s been nice and educational and all and really, something that I don’t mind taking some time for, but hey, guys, I think I’m good here. Super.
Oh, one other thing before y’all go. My voice. I’d like it back please. Yeah. Missing out on that “talking” thing. Well, without sounding like some kind of wounded animal. I mean, yeah, it IS kind of fun making strange croaking sounds like some mutant amphibian from outer space and inventing radio drama scenarios based upon the “Frogmen From Swamp Planet Zero” and such. Hilarity. I owe it all to you. And singing in the car gets a lot of kicks and giggles as I imagine various artists ravaged by some debilitating throat malady or being attacked by some maniac strangling them as they attempt sing. And I never before would have invented the K-Tel “duets” album, where various Christian artists sing their best known selections along with “Frogmen From Swamp Planet Zero”. Truly, I never had so much good times. And I owe it all to the Sickie Gnomes or Health Imps or whoever.
So, this is my stop everyone. Good to go. I’m ready to get off the sick train. Bags packed, the taxi driver’s blowing his horn and all. Hello? Gnomes? Imps? Minor Powers That Be? Whoever? Anyone?
Lord? I know I sound like some Frogman from Swamp Planet Zero, but…
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