Oh no! I guess it should not be surprising, given the dank and fetid parts of the internet you’ve been extracting on our behalf. Contact with all that medieval-inflected yellow bile of nastiness and aggression has imbalanced your humours. Light the candles, whitewash the walls, apply the leeches!
I do hope you feel better soon CF. Such times call for warm blankets, cool cloths, chicken soup, and stories being read aloud to you in soothing voice. If it lasts too long, send off for a llama fetus to bury in the garden 🙂
Feel better! And thank you for taking up the role of nudger-towards-reality of Mr. Wright. Since he asked me to depart, I’m compelled to respond only over at myoutermarat.wordpress.com, which I think you might find of interest.
Scene: Nestled at the foot of the lush Ireen Gallo Mountains on the peaceful planet Achoo, Jedi master World-Con Fen his apprentice Cami-wan Felapton had a dangerous task ahead of them. In these breathless times, when all the Galactic Republic was tossing and turning, they must find the Nazal blockage, then clear and dry it out in order to create an alternate route around the trade embargo imposed by Darth Sinus. The valiant Tishue people were waiting on standby to provide cover but the journey nevertheless would be long and arduous. Folk wisdom said it was three days coming, three days en route, and three days on the way out. But Fen and Felapton didn’t have that kind of time. Emperor Pulp-a-zine was determined to use the embargo to ruin the Empire of Reading for everyone, and he was far advanced in deceptively shambolic scheme known to the People of the Book as the Great Dragon Con. The men had to leave now or it would be too late.
Observing a strong Force in their slave-protege, Analgesic Sleepwalker, the small Jedi band took him onboard in hopes of speeding up their progress. In their absence, they entrusted the person of their lovely Queen Amygdala, she of the almond-shaped eyes and well-regulated emotions, to the goofy (yet somehow still not lovable) Representative Straw Straw Pup. Yikes. Well, no one said the Jedis’ judgement was flawless. Straw Straw had ingratiated himself as a harmless stereotype of a dumb bumbling sad puppy; he not yet revealed himself to be a dumb bumbling rabid Supreme Dark Sith Lord Devilman.
Yes indeed, life is long and the universe never forgets. There are many more chapter fives to this tale. Be patient you must, young Jedi. All will unfold as it should.
Meanwhile, believing themselves to have secured the home front, World-con Fen, Cami-wan Felapton and Analgesic Sleepwalker calmed themselves by drinking lemon tea and waited for their chance to sneak away. The moment finally arrived. A gelatinous capsule called the Antee Histameen slid into the dock and a pilot welcomed them aboard. With its smooth protective coating, the good guys would have no trouble knocking out the green Mucosa fighters as they travelled down the Nazal passage. They might even have a little shoot-em-up light saber fun along the way – zap! zing! zoom! – They reached the end, the light dawned, and they were free! The trio breathed a sweet sigh of mentholated relief.
It didn’t last long. The Antee Histamine shuddered and crashed into an desert planet known as Catooine. Where did that come from, World-Con Fen wondered, genuinely confused at the existence of an entire world not found on their updated kerfuffle map? Cami-wan Felapton’s heart sank. He knew what it was. Dammit all to hell. It was the home planet of Timmo the Catt, who talked a lot. He could not believe it. They had outrun the congestion of Darth Sinus’ Phantom Flu, only to find themselves held captive by a malevolent allergenic blob known throughout the galaxy for asserting non-evidence-based claims based only on book blurbs and personal projection. With each passing sentence from Timmo’s befouled mouth, they could feel their gag reflexes rising and their throats closing off.
There has to be a garbage chute around here somewhere, thought Cami-wan, on the verge of passing out. There is always a garbage chute.
Ginger tea. My nanny swore by it and she was mostly right. Stew up tea with peppercorns and lots of fresh ginger; drink with honey. For maximum effect, eat Nilla Wafers on the side. Feel better!
Camestros Felapton 
11 responses to “Ugh…flu or something…”
Get lots of sleep, drink lots, and I hops you feel better soon! Err, probably what you drink shouldn’t be beer, unless it is an Australian thing.
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🙂
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Oh no! I guess it should not be surprising, given the dank and fetid parts of the internet you’ve been extracting on our behalf. Contact with all that medieval-inflected yellow bile of nastiness and aggression has imbalanced your humours. Light the candles, whitewash the walls, apply the leeches!
I do hope you feel better soon CF. Such times call for warm blankets, cool cloths, chicken soup, and stories being read aloud to you in soothing voice. If it lasts too long, send off for a llama fetus to bury in the garden 🙂
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I’m sick too. Hope it’s not an end-of-the-world flu or something. 🙂
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the Phantom flu?
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That would explain the trade embargo of Naboo
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Feel better! And thank you for taking up the role of nudger-towards-reality of Mr. Wright. Since he asked me to depart, I’m compelled to respond only over at myoutermarat.wordpress.com, which I think you might find of interest.
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EPISODIO UNO: THE MENACING PHANTOM FLU
A very short story for these congested times.
Scene: Nestled at the foot of the lush Ireen Gallo Mountains on the peaceful planet Achoo, Jedi master World-Con Fen his apprentice Cami-wan Felapton had a dangerous task ahead of them. In these breathless times, when all the Galactic Republic was tossing and turning, they must find the Nazal blockage, then clear and dry it out in order to create an alternate route around the trade embargo imposed by Darth Sinus. The valiant Tishue people were waiting on standby to provide cover but the journey nevertheless would be long and arduous. Folk wisdom said it was three days coming, three days en route, and three days on the way out. But Fen and Felapton didn’t have that kind of time. Emperor Pulp-a-zine was determined to use the embargo to ruin the Empire of Reading for everyone, and he was far advanced in deceptively shambolic scheme known to the People of the Book as the Great Dragon Con. The men had to leave now or it would be too late.
Observing a strong Force in their slave-protege, Analgesic Sleepwalker, the small Jedi band took him onboard in hopes of speeding up their progress. In their absence, they entrusted the person of their lovely Queen Amygdala, she of the almond-shaped eyes and well-regulated emotions, to the goofy (yet somehow still not lovable) Representative Straw Straw Pup. Yikes. Well, no one said the Jedis’ judgement was flawless. Straw Straw had ingratiated himself as a harmless stereotype of a dumb bumbling sad puppy; he not yet revealed himself to be a dumb bumbling rabid Supreme Dark Sith Lord Devilman.
Yes indeed, life is long and the universe never forgets. There are many more chapter fives to this tale. Be patient you must, young Jedi. All will unfold as it should.
Meanwhile, believing themselves to have secured the home front, World-con Fen, Cami-wan Felapton and Analgesic Sleepwalker calmed themselves by drinking lemon tea and waited for their chance to sneak away. The moment finally arrived. A gelatinous capsule called the Antee Histameen slid into the dock and a pilot welcomed them aboard. With its smooth protective coating, the good guys would have no trouble knocking out the green Mucosa fighters as they travelled down the Nazal passage. They might even have a little shoot-em-up light saber fun along the way – zap! zing! zoom! – They reached the end, the light dawned, and they were free! The trio breathed a sweet sigh of mentholated relief.
It didn’t last long. The Antee Histamine shuddered and crashed into an desert planet known as Catooine. Where did that come from, World-Con Fen wondered, genuinely confused at the existence of an entire world not found on their updated kerfuffle map? Cami-wan Felapton’s heart sank. He knew what it was. Dammit all to hell. It was the home planet of Timmo the Catt, who talked a lot. He could not believe it. They had outrun the congestion of Darth Sinus’ Phantom Flu, only to find themselves held captive by a malevolent allergenic blob known throughout the galaxy for asserting non-evidence-based claims based only on book blurbs and personal projection. With each passing sentence from Timmo’s befouled mouth, they could feel their gag reflexes rising and their throats closing off.
There has to be a garbage chute around here somewhere, thought Cami-wan, on the verge of passing out. There is always a garbage chute.
[credits roll; lights go up]
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I hope you feel better soon.
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Ginger tea. My nanny swore by it and she was mostly right. Stew up tea with peppercorns and lots of fresh ginger; drink with honey. For maximum effect, eat Nilla Wafers on the side. Feel better!
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Get better soon!
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