Michael Moreno » Sick

It Could Be Worse #003: Diserendipity

Michael — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 22:36:05 +0000

In science there are always little happy accidents that come around and make our lives a little easier. That may or may not be the case in It Could Be Worse #003: Diserendipity!

Yeah, I know I’m late with it, but I was super sick. And I DID say it would be up today. “Rain or shine, sick or not.” Remember?

No More Mr. Nice CD4+ T Cells!

Michael — Sun, 10 Jan 2010 20:40:18 +0000

This getting sick, then better, then SICK AGAIN AS I’M ALMOST DONE BEING SICK thing is really getting old. I’ve spent the last two days growing roots into my already sentient couch due to this stupid effin’ infirmity I have yet to which I’ve yet given a name. We’ll call it Craig. I don’t think I’ve ever known a Craig I liked. I’ve got Craig and I’ve got it bad.

It’s been plaguing me. It started about two weeks before Christmas. I’d be down a couple of days, then up but out, then I’d be alright, then I’m only a day or two away from being 100% and then WHAMO!! I’m down hard. Again. I’m coming out of the third and LAST wave of it right now. It horrible interfered with my already-scarce and oh-so-precious time with my whelps. That’s a story for another day, I’m afraid. If you don’t already know, you will.

Anywho, comics shall resume tomorrow. Rain or shine, sick or not. Scout’s honour. Yes, I was a scout. Three different kinds, too: Cub, Boy, & Cavalry. I’m that awesome.

Outted as Straight in Public

Michael — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 09:01:56 +0000

I’m standing in the checkout line at Wal-Mart (I know, shut up), praying for a swift release from this mortal coil. The warmth from my body had long since retreated to the soft, comforting embrace of my way too kingly sized matress at home. The hours since I tried to cleanse the infirmity from my body had not been kind.

The line crawled. Slowed to less than a crawl. I saw a herd of turtles pointing and laughing at me as I stood there cockeyed and dripnosed. At least I think I saw a herd of turtles. They had racing goggles over their eyes and singing slugs on their backs. I may have been delirious from the fever. I can’t be sure. One thing of which I can be sure, however, is the sharp bark from the unassuming young lady behind the counter. Her voice commanded attention. I think she scared off the turtles, though, because as I stepped forward, I checked to make sure I wouldn’t trample them. They were nowhere to be seen.

Extra strength Tylenol. BEEP. Giant jug o orange juice. BEEP. Antihistamine my mutant healing factor will metabolize before it has a chance to do me any good. BEEP. Slim-Fast. BEEP.

Slim-Fast?

I reluctantly removed the earbuds from my ears. The real world perverted my solace by forcing me to interact with another human. Normally not so bad. I’m quite the social butterfly, actually. Not today. Not tonight. Not now. Just let me go to work so I can brood the night away with my puffed-up eye, my drooling nose, and my pounding head.

Slim-Fast?

Yeah.

Wow. You usually don’t see guys buying this stuff.

You don’t say.

Yeah. I mean you’re not fat. You’re a guy… and you’re clearly not gay.

Wha–?

I have a pretty in-tune gaydar.

Um.. Thanks?

I’m thinking she may have just been trying to flirt with me. Whatever. So, yeah. I have a horrible sleep schedule and don’t eat right. I figure it’ll make for a nice supplement. New comics on the way, yo.

That’s assuming I don’t die first…