Acceptance

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Diseasy Like Sunday Mornin'

My cousin suffers from social anxiety disorder, a condition where you bust my lip open because you don't know any better. Ever since that day when I was five years old and she supposedly called dibs on the jungle gym on the ride over but I really don't think it counts if I didn't hear you say it, Tammy - since that day, I've known the true terror of disorders, diseases, syndromes, conditions, and their myriad, nigh-synonymous brethren.

And yet here we are, in the twenty-something^th century, and we still turn the other cheek while all these carcinojerks keep sicking it up like it's plague night at the Renaissance Faire! Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying that the sick are bad people per se, I'm just saying that cancer's probably contagious if you fall asleep with your hand on it.

Everything's a disease. You don't have stankmouth, you have halitosis; yep, your halito is inflamed, or something. Halito being the hole out of which your tongue farts, I guess. I'm not sure how it happens, I just know I was a lot happier before I knew that my toothpaste was medicine.

You got sick, huh? Whaddaya gonna do about it? Go to the hospital? Oh, sorry; didn't you hear? There's hospital disease now. Staph infection, they call it. Staph infection is basically like if the ceilings in dentists' offices periodically rained mouth-sized bowling balls. And sorry, buddy, but the "ph" at the end doesn't make it sound any less like vd.

For your consideration: flesh eating virus. Holy shit. The only illness that will kill you the same way as a bear. I guess on the seventh day of creation, God's mom wouldn't let him rest and was all like "You've gotta spruce up your diorama!" so he's like "I know; I'll make bears that are too small to shoot." Holy shit.

And let's stop it with the illness euphemisms, huh? "I have a cold." No you don't. Cold is an adjective, and you are not a lolcat. If a slight ailment is a cold, Stephen Hawking should go around telling people he's got a fuckin' freezing.

One time an ill-advised ladyfriend tried to turn me on by singing "You Give me Fever"; everything went hazy, and I woke up about an hour later on the sidewalk with half of her brain in my pocket.

There are Two Kinds of Correctness: Right and Wrong.

There are two kinds of trees: Christmas and other. Anyone who says otherwise is demoted to wrong.

There are consequently two kinds of wood. You'll find that two very different kinds of people object to this fact and the previous one, but, whether you chain yourself to huge "other" trees or you spend all your time making bookcases out of Christmas wood, in my mind you're in the same creepy bathhouse.

There are three kinds of plants: trees, bushes, and plants. I would have conflated trees and bushes, but then some people would get the slang confused and end up with a lung full of pubes.

There are two kinds of animals: seagulls and fish. You don't have a schnauzer, you have a hairy, dry fish. Have fun picking up soccer moms in training at the dry hairy fish park.

There is no such thing as bacteria. These are a variety of seagull.

Squid are lazy octopi, and octopi are just fish anyway.

Jellyfish are bushes.

We clear on this?