Just foolin'. There'll be no poxes unless they belong to me. And it would seem they do. I'm still trying desperately to recover from whatever it is that decided my body would make a good home. I'm certain it's Sars... at least that's what I'm telling people. It's resulted in a lot less human contact, which is kinda nice when there are so many stupid people out there. But I digress. So as soon as my immune system finishes up kicking the ass of the phlem wad that made a home in my lungs I will be right as rain to write you many more intriguing entries about the perils of the sea and the scourging of the deep. Except that I forgot I wasn't a pirate. So, oops.

Man, these drugs make me talk funny. Time for my nap (which will end promptly at 7am Monday Morning). I've got one day to get over this bug and I plan to come out victorious.

In the mean time you should all go check out one of the new blogs I've found recently... like Dogs Dinner or Gerg69 because they tend to amuse me, even when I'm not intoxicated. Oh look, pills on the floor. mmmm floor pills. No wait... that was a pebble.

"Now I'm afraid if I stop talking I'll die, Isn't Mick cool I was all afraid he'd be like 'I'm a rock star aren't I great' but he's just like you or me or Jesus over there(points at empty corner)." -Homer Simpson