December 12, 2002

Learning Sinus Language I. Feel.

Learning Sinus Language

I. Feel. Like. Hell.

For the second day this week, I came into work at noon in an attempt to sleep away the awful bug infesting my system. For the most part, I think, it's gone. However, my clogged sinuses, the most irritating sympton by far, stubbornly remain. I don't know if there's a big party in my sinuses or what, but no one seems to want to leave.

The most embarrasing aspect of this lingering sinus illness is my voice, which sounds like Andre the Giant has cupped a huge hand over my face. It's bad enough having a tell-tale Minnesota accent, you betcha, but to compound the situation with this muffled voice must make me nearly unintelligible to my fellow human beings.

To make converstaion with my fellow human beings a little easier, here are some simple sinus language examples so you can follow along with my day.

Gool morgning = Good morning. I feel horrible.

Howg ig eferythink wig you = How is everything with you? I feel like tiny miners are trying to dislodge my eyes from their sockets. Should this happen, please help me retrieve them from the floor.

Preggy nige dage todage, iggn't it = Pretty nice day today, isn't it? Except for the fact this accursed weather is the primary reason I feel so entirely awful. Would you happen to have any pills consisting of 100 percent codeine I could borrow?

Surg, I guesh I cag get thacht doneg todage = Sure, I guess I can get that done today. How can you ask me to do anything even remotely work-related in the state I'm in? Can't you see how miserable I am? Isn't the perpetual stream of snot trickling forth from my nostrils a solid indication that I'm in no mood to perform tasks of any kind, unless it involves laying in bed with a gallon of 7-Up?

Yesh, Ige am a shmoking hocht shpeshimen of maleg hunkinesh = Yes, I am a smoking hot specimen of male hunkiness. Unfortunately, you've caught me on a day when I'm not at my best. Granted, I'm still drop-dead good looking, and most women would pay big money to see me in a speedo, but I'm lacking that certain edge today.

Itsh wash niceg talking wick youg = It was nice talking with you. I only hope I didn't subject you to this vile debilitation infesting my system. If so, stay away from me for four months, or however long it takes you to feel better and not give the illness back to me.

Posted by Ryan at December 12, 2002 12:58 PM
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