juvenile germ traps
Germ Season is upon us in the mighty Northeast. Hostile microbes pelt us with the same ceaseless ferocity of the Nor'easter storms that pound our shores like a highly masculine meteorological pelvis.
The hurricanes that wreck our coastlines come through the awesomely destructive will of our Lord, and as such, they cannot be questioned. But the bacteria and viruses that ravage our immune systems come from the malnourished and intellectually stunted children who hack and gob and cough their dirty germs in the aisles of our local grocery stores and Wal-Marts.
My lungs and nostrils are finally clearing...slowly, like water dripping off icy stalactites...after nearly a week of feeling as if a steel anvil was crammed inside my skull. I believe I acquired my temp-illness while surrounded by yammering Christian children at a local power-lifting Jesus-saves hootenanny I attended as magazine research.
Small screeching clusters of Jesus youth, their tiny pink Christian lungs bellowing infectious diseases as easy as spreadin' the Gospel.
The chubbed-out, sweatpant-wearing, SUV-drivin' moms and dads of this rolling Pennsylvania valley allow their beastly sawtoothed progeny to run amok with impunity, sneezing and coughing at will. Carelessly making someone sick causes them more suffering than a quick punch to their face. Your nose might sting for a few days, but it's nowhere close to puking and sweating and being stuffed-up and then the runny nose like a slut's vagina, and then the painful coughing—for TWO FUCKING WEEKS.
Yesterday, as I was feeling a smidge better and rounding the corner at a local pharmacy, another dirty little yam-spud coughed in my face. If I get sick again, I wlll hold all child-rearing sires and sows within a fifty-mile radius responsible for it.
