So, today I woke up with tongue cancer*.
I couldn’t eat anything all day because everything I put in my mouth hurt, including water and popsicles, so I was a ravenous beast when my husband arrived home from work.
Tristan: (after several minutes of me whining about my tongue cancer) OK, seriously, what is wrong with you?
Me: Tongue cancer (with eyeroll, as he clearly was not paying attention to me).
Tristan: *sigh* Have you WebMD’d it?**
Me: No, because it will tell me I have something WORSE than tongue cancer, and how do you get worse than tongue cancer?
He feverishly poked my details into WebMD and asked me a bunch of stupid questions about white pustules and other things too disgusting to mention before he finally got the results.
Tristan: Well, it says you either have an allergic reaction, a minor burn… or syphilis.
Me: SYPHILIS!?! Well, now I know what is worse than tongue cancer.
So, if I start posting utter nonsense, it will be my syphilis talking.
*possibly not actually true.
** My husband is an even bigger hypochondriac than I am, so he loves the shit out of WebMD.
I’ve been contemplating starting a blog for a while now.
The urge grew so strong today that I thought of about a billion posts and actually got off my arse and set one up.
And now that I’m here… I can’t remember all of my wonderful, supposedly bloggable words.
Well, crap.
halfbakedwords 