I was never one to catch all the crazy afflictions that ran amok back in the day. No mumps, no hives, no croup. I’m not even sure I ever had the chicken pox. It’s a pity because I could have spent long afternoons on my deathbed marvelling over the morbid manner in which our forefathers went about naming their sicknesses. Either they were drunk on miracle cure concoctions, I figure, or they just liked to invent appellations that were more horrifying than the ailments they were meant to describe.

Take your pick from the following list and try to avoid breathing on me. Though I tend to have a black bet immune system, I’d rather not sully my record of health by catching something with such a nasty name as ragpicker’s disease from the likes of you.

Of course, each of these maladies can be verified with a trip to the encyclopedia or online medical database. Provided that you are feeling well enough now that you’ve been subjected to what I like to call the LaFlamme Squirts.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 28th, 2009 at 6:37 pm and is filed under Etc.. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.