Balb de la Muerte
***Warning: Self-pity Alert ***
I’m sick again, waaaah!!! Times like these, I just feel just breaking down and getting that flu shot, formaldehyde and all. And this isn’t even the flu; it’s just a cold gone awry. However will be missing out not only on work but also on Kim’s annual Another Halloween with Crazy People. Rats: I had a brilliant idea to colour my hair red and go as LaRose. (Secret, ha. Might use that next year.) Am supposed to be on hunger strike in protest, but the Mafia di Zuppa is having none of my drama and force-feeding me chicken soup. (Meh, needs salt.) But isn’t this a great poster, though? I found it while searching for Obama’s infomercial, which I missed last Wednesday. Because, yes, I need hope. And if there’s hope for America, and consequently the universe, certainly there must be some for poor lil’ ol’ me. Happy halloween. Happy birthday (”tomorrow”), Boc. (If I die today, those are my official last words.)