It seems that The Golden Child has a brand new little sister.

And I have a brand new niece.

The audience for my comedic brilliance is growing…

I’m back at work today, revolting my co-workers with lamentably audible sneezing and expectoration.

Yummy.

Still can’t breathe very well, but I’m better than yesterday. Walking is still tiring, but my back isn’t clenched and aching quite as much from the laboured breathing, so that’s an improvement.

My office is very much a “stay the hell home until you’re better because we don’t want what you got” environment. People have repeatedly said to me, “Please do [insert boring task here]… AND THEN GO HOME.”

But we’re having cheesecake this afternoon and I ain’t missing that.

It’s certain to do wonders for my phlegm production.

(Space Monkey Pants — now offering 20% more nausea!)

I’m sick. All weekend I’ve been sick. The past two days, my lungs have seized up to the point that I’ve been checking my lips for cyanosis. I’ve been working so hard to breathe that my back is aching from the effort. When I walk down the stairs, I stop halfway to breathe.

And let’s not even discuss the phlegm. Oh my… the phlegm.

All in all, it sucks big fat hairy camel balls.

That’s all I have to say. Enjoy the visuals.

Excuse me. I have something to cough up.

How did the word word “unmentionables” first get used to refer to underwear?

It’s not like somebody just used it and everyone just nodded their heads and continued their conversation.

At some point, somebody had to first say “unmentionables” when they really meant “underwear”.

And someone else had to say, “Huh?”

And the first person said, “Unmentionables. You know, those… things that can’t be mentioned in polite company.” Followed by eyes looking downward and little head jerks.

And then the second person said something like, “Is something wrong with your head? Do you have the palsy?”

And the first person said, “Come ON! UN. MEN. TION. A. BLES.” while pointing at their crotch.

And then the second person said, “Oh. OH! (Pause.) You mean penises.”

And then the first person kicked the second one in their unmentionable.

I’m just saying. It probably took a little time to catch on.

Me: I remember in theatre school, whenever we did something really bad or really wrong, our instructor would always say, “That was a brave choice.”

My Lovely Wife: Ours would say we sucked.

Me: Yes, well, brave meant the same thing.