War of the noses...
I just ate a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.
What does that mean?--you say.
It means that I'm sick! No not sick in the head, that goes without saying. But sick, like from evil microscopic bacteria invading the frontiers of my nasal cavity and setting up camp. Little bastards! Out of more than 6 billion noses on this planet, those slimy green monsters decided to invade and conquer my poor schnozzola.
How did this happen?--you say.
Well, it all started in my Greek history class. The girl sitting behind me went into a coughing frenzy (and that's putting it nicely). At first hack, my eyes got big and I held my breath. Oh please, oh please, oh please let it be just the one. Nope. It turned out to be the first of many hair-parting gusts of dewy wind.
I sat there--each terrifying burst of wind more dangerous than the last. I nonchalantly eased my shoulders up so that my shirt collar covered the exposed and vulnerable nape of my neck. But the gags and snorts and hacks kept coming like a furious hurricane of phlegm aiming to wreak havoc on the back of my head. I wanted to yell out, "Cover your mouth you medieval mucous head!" But instead I took every bacteria-filled cough like a brave soldier in the war of the noses. And now I'm paying for it.
Now I'm a snot factory, and the little guys are preparing their spore guns, perched at the edge of my nostrils, searching for their next victim. Will it be you? Ha Ha Ha! Nah, don't worry--unlike some people, I cover my mouth and nose when I cough or sneeze. So those little bastards are gonna die in my hand, and then I'm gonna wipe their tiny corpses all over my jeans. They've messed with the wrong nose this time!
What does that mean?--you say.
It means that I'm sick! No not sick in the head, that goes without saying. But sick, like from evil microscopic bacteria invading the frontiers of my nasal cavity and setting up camp. Little bastards! Out of more than 6 billion noses on this planet, those slimy green monsters decided to invade and conquer my poor schnozzola.
How did this happen?--you say.
Well, it all started in my Greek history class. The girl sitting behind me went into a coughing frenzy (and that's putting it nicely). At first hack, my eyes got big and I held my breath. Oh please, oh please, oh please let it be just the one. Nope. It turned out to be the first of many hair-parting gusts of dewy wind.
I sat there--each terrifying burst of wind more dangerous than the last. I nonchalantly eased my shoulders up so that my shirt collar covered the exposed and vulnerable nape of my neck. But the gags and snorts and hacks kept coming like a furious hurricane of phlegm aiming to wreak havoc on the back of my head. I wanted to yell out, "Cover your mouth you medieval mucous head!" But instead I took every bacteria-filled cough like a brave soldier in the war of the noses. And now I'm paying for it.
Now I'm a snot factory, and the little guys are preparing their spore guns, perched at the edge of my nostrils, searching for their next victim. Will it be you? Ha Ha Ha! Nah, don't worry--unlike some people, I cover my mouth and nose when I cough or sneeze. So those little bastards are gonna die in my hand, and then I'm gonna wipe their tiny corpses all over my jeans. They've messed with the wrong nose this time!
posted by Grant-Will-Rant at
8:53 PM
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